冷玉、冰巧

　　从前，有一座圆音寺，每天都有许多人上香拜佛，香火很旺。在圆音寺庙前的横梁上有个蜘蛛结了张网，由于每天都受到香火和虔诚的祭拜的熏托，蛛蛛便有了佛性。经过了一千多年的修炼，蛛蛛佛性增加了不少。
　　忽然有一天，佛主光临了圆音寺，看见这里香火甚旺，十分高兴。离开寺庙的时候，不轻易间地抬头，看见了横梁上的蛛蛛。佛主停下来，问这只蜘蛛：“你我相见总算是有缘，我来问你个问题，看你修炼了这一千多年来，有什么真知拙见。怎么样？”蜘蛛遇见佛主很是高兴，连忙答应了。佛主问到：“世间什么才是最珍贵的？”蜘蛛想了想，回答到：“世间最珍贵的是‘得不到’和‘已失去’。”佛主点了点头，离开了。
　　就这样又过了一千年的光景，蜘蛛依旧在圆音寺的横梁上修炼，它的佛性大增。一日，佛主又来到寺前，对蜘蛛说道：“你可还好，一千年前的那个问题，你可有什么更深的认识吗？”蜘蛛说：“我觉得世间最珍贵的是‘得不到’和‘已失去’。”佛主说：“你再好好想想，我会再来找你的。”
　　又过了一千年，有一天，刮起了大风，风将一滴甘露吹到了蜘蛛网上。蜘蛛望着甘露，见它晶莹透亮，很漂亮，顿生喜爱之意。蜘蛛每天看着甘露很开心，它觉得这是三千年来最开心的几天。突然，又刮起了一阵大风，将甘露吹走了。蜘蛛一下子觉得失去了什么，感到很寂寞和难过
　　。这时佛主又来了，问蜘蛛：“蜘蛛这一千年，你可好好想过这个问题：世间什么才是最珍贵的？”蜘蛛想到了甘露，对佛主说：“世间最珍贵的是‘得不到’和‘已失去’。”佛主说：“好，既然你有这样的认识，我让你到人间走一朝吧。”
　　就这样，蜘蛛投胎到了一个官宦家庭，成了一个富家小姐，父母为她取了个名字叫蛛儿。一晃，蛛儿到了十六岁了，已经成了个婀娜多姿的少女，长的十分漂亮，楚楚动人。
　　这一日，新科状元郎甘鹿中士，皇帝决定在后花园为他举行庆功宴席。来了许多妙龄少女，包括蛛儿，还有皇帝的小公主长风公主。状元郎在席间表演诗词歌赋，大献才艺，在场的少女无一不被他折倒。但蛛儿一点也不紧张和吃醋，因为她知道，这是佛主赐予她的姻缘。
　　过了些日子，说来很巧，蛛儿陪同母亲上香拜佛的时候，正好甘鹿也陪同母亲而来。上完香拜过佛，二位长者在一边说上了话。蛛儿和甘鹿便来到走廊上聊天，蛛儿很开心，终于可以和喜欢的人在一起了，但是甘鹿并没有表现出对她的喜爱。蛛儿对甘鹿说：“你难道不曾记得十六年前，圆音寺的蜘蛛网上的事情了吗？”甘鹿很诧异，说：“蛛儿姑娘，你漂亮，也很讨人喜欢，但你想象力未免丰富了一点吧。”说罢，和母亲离开了。
　　蛛儿回到家，心想，佛主既然安排了这场姻缘，为何不让他记得那件事，甘鹿为何对我没有一点的感觉？
　　几天后，皇帝下召，命新科状元甘鹿和长风公主完婚；蛛儿和太子芝草完婚。这一消息对蛛儿如同晴空霹雳，她怎么也想不同，佛主竟然这样对她。几日来，她不吃不喝，穷究急思，灵魂就将出壳，生命危在旦夕。太子芝草知道了，急忙赶来，扑倒在床边，对奄奄一息的蛛儿说道：“那日，在后花园众姑娘中，我对你一见钟情，我苦求父皇，他才答应。如果你死了，那么我也就不活了。”说着就拿起了宝剑准备自刎。
　　就在这时，佛主来了，他对快要出壳的蛛儿灵魂说：“蜘蛛，你可曾想过，甘露（甘鹿）是由谁带到你这里来的呢？是风（长风公主）带来的，最后也是风将它带走的。甘鹿是属于长风公主的，他对你不过是生命中的一段插曲。而太子芝草是当年圆音寺门前的一棵小草，他看了你三千年，爱慕了你三千年，但你却从没有低下头看过它。蜘蛛，我再来问你，世间什么才是最珍贵的？”蜘蛛听了这些真相之后，好象一下子大
　　彻大悟了，她对佛主说：“世间最珍贵的不是‘得不到’和‘已失去’，而是现在能把握的幸福。”刚说完，佛主就离开了，蛛儿的灵魂也回
　　位了，睁开眼睛，看到正要自刎的太子芝草，她马上打落宝剑，和太子深深的抱着……
　　故事结束了，你能领会蛛儿最后一刻的所说的话吗？“世间最珍贵的不是‘得不到’和‘已失去’，而是现在能把握的幸福。”

Sometimes I really doubt whether there is love between my parents. Every day they are very busy trying to earn money in order to pay the high tuition for my brother and me. They don’t act in the romantic ways that I read in books or I see on TV. In their opinion, “I love you” is too luxurious for them to say. Sending flowers to each other on Valentine’s Day is even more out of the question. Finally my father has a bad temper. When he’s very tired from the hard work, it is easy for him to lose his temper.

     One day, my mother was sewing a quilt. I silently sat down beside her and looked at her.

　　“Mom, I have a question to ask you,” I said after a while.

　　“What?” she replied, still doing her work.

　　“Is there love between you and Dad?” I asked her in a very low voice.”

　　My mother stopped her work and raised her head with surprise in her eyes. She didn’t answer immediately. Then she bowed her head and continued to sew the quilt.

　　I was very worried because I thought I had hurt her. I was in a great embarrassment and I didn’t know what I should do. But at last I heard my mother say the following words:“Susan,” she said thoughtfully, “Look at this thread. Sometimes it appears, but most of it disappears in the quilt. The thread really makes the quilt strong and durable. If life is a quilt, then love should be a thread. It can hardly be seen anywhere or anytime, but it’s really there. Love is inside.”
   I listened carefully but I couldn’t understand her until the next spring. At that time, my father suddenly got sick seriously. My mother had to stay with him in the hospital for a month. When they returned from the hospital, they both looked very pale. It seemed both of them had had a serious illness.
　　After they were back, every day in the morning and dusk, my mother helped my father walk slowly on the country road. My father had never been so gentle. It seemed they were the most harmonious couple. Along the country road, there were many beautiful flowers, green grass and trees. The sun gently glistened through the leaves. All of these made up the most beautiful picture in the world.
　　The doctor had said my father would recover in two months. But after two months he still couldn’t walk by himself. All of us were worried about him.
　　“Dad, how are you feeling now?” I asked him one day.

　　“Susan, don’t worry about me.” he said gently. “To tell you the truth, I just like walking with your mom. I like this kind of life.” Reading his eyes, I know he loves my mother deepl

　　Once I thought love meant flowers, gifts and sweet kisses. But from this experience, I understand that love is just a thread in the quilt of our life. Love is inside, making life strong and warm..

When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed. flpsdxw jug62gt There were pieces of me all over the tidy, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, explaining it was for the best, I could do better, it was his fault and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune; perhaps one did not become immune to such felony.

He left and I tried to get on with my life. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil, <a href=http://www.xovalve.com/>电磁阀</a>I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee granule slipped in to the bone china. That was what my life had been like, endless omissions of coffee granules, somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee.

Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it. That's what Mike's leaving had been like, sudden and with an awful finality. I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished. I laughed at myself. Imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee. I must be getting old.

And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror.<a href=http://gty-sky.blogbus.com>DinmoTeam</a>
 A young woman full of promise and hope, a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world. I never loved Mike anyway. Besides there are more important things. More important than love, I insist to myself firmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.

He doesn't haunt my dreams as I feared that night.<a href=http://www.xovalve.com/tiaojiefa.html>调节阀</a> Instead I am flying far across fields and woods, looking down on those below me. Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter, brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it. I realize later, with some degree of understanding, that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly. The next night my dream is similar to the previous nights, but without the hunter. I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend, but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together, what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has only, a little piece of me.