小故事大智慧·感動心靈的英文哲理故事

　　一滴水蘊藏著浩瀚的大海，一個小故事孕育著博大的智慧。愿感動心靈的英文哲理故事的每一篇故事似涓涓細流，在你心田緩緩流淌，滲透在生命的每個腳步中，使你獲得心靈的洗禮，在品味中得到智慧啟迪與愉悅感悟。為此陽光網(wǎng)小編為大家推薦了小故事大智慧·感動心靈的英文哲理故事，希望對大家有用。

　　小故事大智慧·感動心靈的英文哲理故事篇一

　　Love Notes

　　From the time each of my children started school, I packed their lunches. And in each lunch I packed, I included a note. Often written on a napkin, the note might be a thank you for a special moment, a reminder of something we were happily anticipating, or a bit of encouragement for an upcoming test or sporting event.

　　In early grade school they loved their notes-they commented on them after school, and when I went back to teaching, they even put notes in my lunches. But as kids grow older they become self?conscious, and by the time he reached high school, my older son, Marc, informed me he no longer needed my daily missives. Informing him that they had been written as much for me as for him, and that he no longer needed to read them but I still needed to write them, I continued the tradition until the day he graduated.

　　Six years after high school graduation, Marc called and asked if he could move home for a couple of months. He had spent those years well, graduating Phi Beta Kappa magna cum laude from college, completing two congressional internships in Washington, D.C., winning the Jesse Marvin Unruh Fellowship to the California State Legislature, and finally, becoming a legislative assistant in Sacramento. Other than short vacation visits, however, he had lived away from home. With his younger sister leaving for college, I was especially thrilled to have Marc coming home.

　　A couple weeks after Marc arrived home to rest, regroup and write for a while, he was back at work-he had been recruited to do campaign work. Since I was still making lunch every day for his younger brother, I packed one for Marc, too. Imagine my surprise when I got a call from my 24?year?old son, complaining about his lunch.

　　"Did I do something wrong? Aren't I still your kid? Don't you love me any more, Mom?" were just a few of the queries he threw at me as I laughingly asked him what was wrong.

　　"My note, Mom," he answered. "Where's my note?"

　　This year my youngest son will be a senior in high school. He, too, has now announced that he is too old for notes. But like his older brother and sister before him, he will receive those notes till the day he graduates-and in whatever lunches I pack for him afterwards.

　　小故事大智慧·感動心靈的英文哲理故事篇二

　　祈禱之手 The Praying Hands

　　The true story behind a well-known piece of art:

　　德國藝術大師Albrecht Durer有一幅名畫“祈禱之手”，這幅畫的背后有一則愛與犧牲的故事。

　　Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.

　　十五世紀時，在德國的一個小村莊里，住了一個有十八個孩子的家庭。父親是一名冶金匠，為了維持一家生計，他每天工作十八個小時。

　　生活盡管窘迫逼人，然而這個家庭其中兩個孩子卻有一個同樣的夢想。他們兩人都希望可以發(fā)展自己在藝術方面的天份。不過他們也了解，父親無法在經(jīng)濟上供他們倆到紐倫堡藝術學院讀書。

　　After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring the mines.

　　晚上，兩兄弟在床上經(jīng)過多次討論后，得出結論：以擲銅板決定──勝者到藝術學院讀書，敗者則到附近的礦場工作賺錢;四年后，在礦場工作的那一個再到藝術學院讀書，由學成畢業(yè)那一個賺錢支持。如果需要，可能也要到礦場工作。

　　They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.

　　星期日早上做完禮拜，他們擲了銅板，結果，弟弟Albrecht Durer勝出，去了紐倫堡藝術學院。哥哥Albert則去了危險的礦場工作，四年來一直為弟弟提供經(jīng)濟支持。Albrecht在藝術學院表現(xiàn)很突出，他的油畫簡直比教授的還要好。到畢業(yè)時，他的作品已經(jīng)能賺不少錢了。

　　When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."

　　在這位年輕的藝術家返回家鄉(xiāng)的那一天，家人為他準備了盛宴，慶祝他學成歸來。當漫長而難忘的宴席快要結束時，伴隨著音樂和笑聲，亞爾伯起身答謝敬愛的哥哥幾年來對他的支持，他說：“現(xiàn)在輪到你了，親愛的哥哥，我會全力支持你到紐倫堡藝術學院攻讀，實現(xiàn)你的夢想!”

　　All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No no no no."

　　所有的目光都急切地轉移到桌子的另一端，坐在那里的Albert雙淚直流，只見他垂下頭，邊搖頭邊重復說著：“不……不……”

　　Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look look what four years in the mines has done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother for me it is too late."

　　終于，Albert站了起來他，擦干臉頰上的淚水，看了看長桌兩邊他所愛的親友們的臉，把雙手移近右臉頰，說：“不，弟弟，我上不了紐倫堡藝術學院了。太遲了�？纯次业碾p手──四年來在礦場工作，毀了我的手，關節(jié)動彈不得，現(xiàn)在我的手連舉杯為你慶賀也不可能，何況是揮動畫筆或雕刻刀呢?不，弟弟……已經(jīng)太遲了……”

　　More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.

　　四百五十多年過去了，Albrecht Durer有成千上百部的杰作流傳下來，他的速寫、素描、水彩畫、木刻、銅刻等可以在世界各地博物館找到;然而，大多數(shù)人最為熟悉的，卻是其中的一件作品。也許，你的家里或者辦公室里就懸掛著一件它的復制品。

　　One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

　　為了補償哥哥所做的犧牲，表達對哥哥的敬意，一天，Albrecht Durer下了很大的工夫把哥哥合起的粗糙的雙手刻了下來。他把這幅偉大的作品簡單地稱為“雙手”，然而，全世界的人都立刻敞開心扉，瞻仰這幅杰作，把這幅愛的作品重新命名為“祈禱之手”。

　　The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one -no one ever makes it alone!

　　下次當你看到這幅感人的作品，仔細看一下。如果你也需要這么一幅畫，就讓它成為你的提醒，沒有──它是世上獨一無二的事物。

　　小故事大智慧·感動心靈的英文哲理故事篇三

　　The little country schoolhouse was heated by an old-fashioned, potbellied coal stove. A little boy had the job of coming to school early each day to start the fire and warm the room before his teacher and his classmates arrived.

　　One morning they arrived to find the schoolhouse engulfed in flames. They dragged the unconscious little boy out of the flaming building more dead than alive. He had major burns over the lower half of his body and was taken to the nearby county hospital.

　　From his bed the dreadfully burned, semi-conscious little boy faintly heard the doctor talking to his mother. The doctor told his mother that her son would surely die—which was for the best, really—for the terrible fire had devastated the lower half of his body.

　　But the brave boy didn't want to die. He made up his mind that he would survive. Somehow, to the amazement of the physician, he did survive. When the mortal danger was past, he again heard the doctor and his mother speaking quietly. The mother was told that since the fire had destroyed so much flesh in the lower part of his body, it would almost be better if he had died, since he was doomed to be a lifetime cripple with no use at all of his lower limbs.

　　Once more the brave boy made up his mind. He would not be a cripple. He would walk. But unfortunately from the waist down, he had no motor ability. His thin legs just dangled there, all but lifeless.

　　Ultimately he was released from the hospital. Every day his mother would massage his little legs, but there was no feeling, no control, nothing. Yet his determination that he would walk was as strong as ever.

　　When he wasn't in bed, he was confined to a wheelchair. One sunny day his mother wheeled him out into the yard to get some fresh air. This day, instead of sitting there, he threw himself from the chair. He pulled himself across the grass, dragging his legs behind him.

　　He worked his way to the white picket fence bordering their lot. With great effort, he raised himself up on the fence. Then, stake by stake, he began dragging himself along the fence, resolved that he would walk. He started to do this every day until he wore a smooth path all around the yard beside the fence. There was nothing he wanted more than to develop life in those legs.

　　Ultimately through his daily massages, his iron persistence and his resolute determination, he did develop the ability to stand up, then to walk haltingly, then to walk by himself—and then—to run.

　　He began to walk to school, then to run to school, to run for the sheer joy of running. Later in college he made the track team.

　　Still later in Madison Square Garden this young man who was not expected to survive, who would surely never walk, who could never hope to run—this determined young man, Dr. Glenn Cunningham, ran the world's fastest mile!

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