篮子的比喻

篮子的比喻 有一天，我的那还在读五年级的女儿莎拉眼泪汪汪地跟我说：“玛茜恨我，因为我也跟凯茜交朋友。玛茜希望我只做她一个人的朋友。她说如果我继续跟凯茜来往就不跟我玩了，可是，她们俩都是我的朋友啊。” 我还没有想出我怎样给她提建议，她突然提出一个让我为难的 要求 对教师党员的评价套管和固井爆破片与爆破装置仓库管理基本要求三甲医院都需要复审吗 ：“你跟玛茜说，告诉她我喜欢她，想做她的朋友，但我也要有别的朋友。” 我坐在那里看了她好长一会儿，不知道该怎样解开这团乱麻。突然，我想起了一个主意。我叫她等一下，然后我很快跑到客厅，倒空了两个藤篮里的东西，提那一大一小两个空篮子回到她的房间里。 莎拉奇怪地问：“你拿两个篮子来有什么用？” 我说：“它们可以让你明白人生的道理。你坐下来，我慢慢跟你说。” 她坐在床边，警觉地看着我。我把小一点的篮子放到大篮子里，然一边挎着那个大篮子在房间里走动一边跟她说：“当一个人出生的时候，上帝给了他（她）一个小篮子。这个小篮子是你的，这个大篮子是我的。你长大，篮子也一样长大。但如果你留意一下，你会发现，你的小篮子是在我的大篮子里面。你想想，这是为什么？” 她一脸茫然地盯着我。显然，她没有明白。我接着说：“你的小篮子在我的大篮子里，因为当你出生的时候，有很多事情你无法自己做，我有责任给你喂饭，换衣服，洗澡，以及为你做一切你不能自己做的事情。所以，我把你的小篮子放在我的大篮子里，一起提一段时间。” 她点了点头，但可能还是觉得我有点不可思议。 “随着你长大，你开始会自己做一些自己的事了，我开始把多一点的事放到你的篮子里。你学会自己系鞋带，系鞋带的事情就到了你自己的篮子里。现在你不想让我帮你系鞋带了，是吧？” 她深深点了一下头，小声地说：“不要，我自己会系了。” “是的，当你会穿衣服时，我就把穿衣服这事情放到你的篮子里。现在你甚至不想让我告诉你你应该穿什么衣服了。” 她微微点头 表 关于同志近三年现实表现材料材料类招标技术评分表图表与交易pdf视力表打印pdf用图表说话 pdf 示同意。 “你越长大，自己会做的事情越多。”我一边说，一边把小篮子从大篮子里拿出来递给她。“你最终得提你自己的篮子了，因为有些事情只有你自己才知道怎样做，别人没 办法 鲁班奖评选办法下载鲁班奖评选办法下载鲁班奖评选办法下载企业年金办法下载企业年金办法下载 替你完成了，比如决定交什么朋友，跟谁约会，去哪所大学读书，跟谁结婚……” 她抬头看着我，说：“我明白了。有些事情我非得自己做不可，因为它们在我的篮子里。” 太好了，她最终听明白了。我高兴地说：“是的。但你最好能够决定那些事情是在你的篮子里还是在别人的篮子里的。比如现在，你要决定你想跟谁交朋友。如果玛茜不喜欢你的决定并生气起来，那她的怒气会盛在谁的篮子里呀？” 她笑了，问道：“在玛茜自己的篮子里，对吧？” 我拥她入怀，继续说：“你说得很对。玛茜的反应不是装在你的篮子里，是装在她自己的篮子里。现在，在这篮子的 故事 滥竽充数故事班主任管理故事5分钟二年级语文看图讲故事传统美德小故事50字120个国学经典故事ppt 结束之前，你还要明白最后一点。” 那一刻，我想起了我自己的母亲和祖母，她们跟我们一起住，我想起她们以及前为我做的事情以及现在我为她们做的事情。我拿起那个大篮子，说：“有一天，我更老了，我的篮子里的一些事情我再也不能完成了。当那一天到来的时候，你得开始把那些事情从我的篮子里拿出来，把它们放到你的篮子里去。就像现在我为外婆做一些事情一样。因为我不是永远这么强壮，不能总是做得了这么多事情。” 说完，我伸手从她手里拿过小篮子，并把我提的大篮子递给她。我说：“生命是一次循环。” 她笑着抱住我，说：“妈妈，我想我可以把更多事情放到我的篮子里了。不要担心玛茜的事情，我会处理好的。” 我把那两个篮子拿回客厅时，我的妈妈刚好进来，她问我做什么。我笑着跟她简单地说了我对莎拉进行的即兴教育。妈妈笑了。几天之后，我惊喜地发现我的电脑桌上放有一个最小的篮子，小得放在我的手掌心。在它的下面，是我妈妈写的一张字条：“别忘了。你的篮子不象你想的那么大。” 原文：What Mothers Teach What Mothers Teach From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Like Mother, Like Daughter BY: From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Like Mother, Like Daughter PrintEmailShareGreat12345Rate(209 votes) Comments (0) Resize - Minus Resize - Plus Many years ago, when my daughter Sara was in the fifth grade, she came to me with a life-gripping problem. As tears welled up in her big brown eyes, she began explaining her dilemma. “Marcy hates me!” she cried. “She hates me because Kathy is my friend, too. She wants me to be her friend and nobody else’s.” Sara choked back her tears and said, “She won’t play with me if I hang out with Kathy. But, they are both my friends!” I tried my mommy-best to console her and let her know that we cannot control how others feel and react. Even though we should understand feelings, there are some things that are out of our control, and some decisions we can only make for ourselves. As I was trying to decide what motherly advice I could give her, she stumped me with, “You talk to Marcy. You tell her that I like her and want to be her friend, but I can have other friends, too!” Oh boy. I sat there staring at her for a few moments trying to figure out how I got into this mess, when suddenly the idea came to me. I excused myself and left the room, telling her I would be right back. My mind raced. It was obvious that she needed to learn that there are just some things you need to do for yourself. Only, how could I teach her this without her feeling like I had failed her? Picking up two wicker baskets from the living room, I quickly tossed their contents onto the floor and walked back into Sara’s room. She stared at me like I was nuts. “What are those for?” she asked with big, surprised eyes. “It’s a life lesson for you,” I explained. “Just sit down and let me explain.” She sat on the edge of the bed with a wary eye. Placing the smaller basket inside the big one, I placed the handle of the big basket over my arm and began to slowly walk around the room as I explained. “When everyone is born, God gives them a little basket. This little one here is yours. The big one is mine. As you grow, so does the basket. But if you notice, your little basket is inside mine. Why do you think that is?” She just glared at me. Nope. Not getting through yet. Not even close. I continued. “Your little basket is in mine because when you were born, there were too many things you couldn’t do for yourself. I had the responsibility of feeding you, changing you, bathing you, and doing everything else you couldn’t do on your own. So I put your basket in mine and carried them both for a while.” She nodded, but so far still thought I was crazy. “Well, as you grew older and began to do some things on your own, I began placing a few more things in your basket. When you learned to tie your shoes, that went in your basket. You wouldn’t want me tying your shoes now, would you?” She bowed her head a second and said softly, “No, that would be stupid. I can tie my own shoes.” “Right,” I said. “And when you learned how to put on your own clothes, I put that in your basket. You don’t even like me telling you what to wear now, never mind dressing you.” She agreed with a small nod. “As you grow older, there will be more and more things you must do on your own.” As I spoke, I gradually took her basket out of mine and handed it to her. “You will eventually carry your own basket with things only you can do, like deciding who you want to be friends with, who you will date, what college you will go to, who you will marry.” She looked up at me and said, “I understand. There are some things that I have to do for myself because they are in my basket.” Hallelujah! The light came on! “Yes,” I squealed, “but it’s even better than that because you decide the things that belong in your basket or someone else’s. Like now, you decide who you want to be friends with. If Marcy doesn’t like your decision and gets angry, whose basket needs to carry her anger?” She smiled. “Marcy’s. Right?” I hugged her and continued with the story. “You’re absolutely right. Marcy’s responses aren’t in your basket. They are in hers. Now, one last thing you need to understand before the basket story is over.” She was smiling big now and really getting into my little skit. I stood there for a moment, thinking of my own mother and grandmother who were living with us, reminiscing about the things they used to do for me that now I do for them. Even though it tugged at my heartstrings, I held up the big basket and said, “One day when I’m much older, there will be things I can no longer carry in my basket. When that time comes, eventually you will begin taking things out of my basket and placing them into your own. Just like I do now for Grandma and Momma. Eventually, the things that are in my basket will be taken out, for I won’t always be strong enough to carry everything I’m carrying right now.” I reached over and gently took the small basket from her hands and traded with her. As she felt the large handle of the big basket and watched me take the little one, she understood. Softly, I said, “Life is a circle.” As she smiled and gave me a big hug, she said, “Mom, I think I can put much more in my basket. Don’t worry about Marcy. I can do this.” As I put the magazines and the potpourri back into the baskets in the living room, my own mother entered and asked me what I was doing. Smiling, I gave her a quick overview of my impromptu skit, feeling quite smug and proud of myself. Mom just smiled. A few days later, I was surprised to see one of the tiniest baskets I’ve ever seen, sitting on the top of my computer desk. It was small enough to hide in the palm of my hand. Underneath it was a note, in my mother’s handwriting that said simply, “Just remember, your basket isn’t nearly as big as you think it is. Love, Mom.” http://www.beliefnet.com/Inspiration/Chicken-Soup-For-The-Soul/2009/02/What-Mothers-Teach.aspx