本帖最后由 ヮ成熟、羙° 于 2013-11-22 18:14 编辑
你令爱了不起
荷叶/译
放松点。他就是你昨天爱着的男孩。我微笑着，试图忍住眼泪。“不，他不是。昨天，我梦想着他做宇航员，今天，我希望他学会说话。”
这有点像老天和我开了个玩笑。我依然记得决定我命运的那一天。那是十月份，在渥太华，夏日的习习凉风已让位于秋天的哗哗落叶，雪很快就要降临，霜冻的凉意已弥漫在空气中。我不经意地提到怀亚特的行为举止，这引起了马丁医生的担忧。他开始询问我许多涉及马丁的活动，言谈和情绪的问题。当医生转向我说：“听起来他差不多患有孤僻症。”时，我仍然清晰地记得那个消过毒的房间以及房间里所有的摆设。
我无法处理大脑中的情景。我逃离了这个令我痛苦的地方，它提醒我，我儿子的生活将会是异常的，
当在饭馆里我的问题遇到怀亚特两眼茫然的回应时，我不记得有多少次告诉自己：“这是正常的。他只是一个小男孩，还没有开始说话。”当怀亚特玩着别人想不到的游戏，不去加入其他男孩一起在公园里玩，挤在沙桶旁玩沙子，玩玩具车时，我不记得多少次吹嘘：“他喜欢一个人玩，一玩就是几个小时，从不惹麻烦。”我的生活改变了方向，怀亚特的生活也改变了方向。
我开始让怀亚特避开朋友和邻居，尤其是最好的朋友。有一个朋友，我们在一起度过了八个月的怀孕生活，这两个孩子只差六天。我们常常打电话长谈，分享育儿的乐趣和失落。让别人知道我的孩子举止异常太痛苦了。这是本该快乐精彩生活中的一个污点。
那是一个星期四的下午，我发现厨房里一把大剪刀少了一半。这把剪刀非常锋利，可以拆开，便于清洗和磨砺。我知道怀亚特拿走了不见的那一半刀片。
“怀亚特，”我开始尽可能耐心地说：“看这里，你知道这是什么吗？”
怀亚特往嘴里塞了许多水果圈。没有反应。
“怀亚特，”我强迫自己与他目光交流，“看这儿，那一半哪儿去了？”我把那一半剪刀让他看，“这把剪刀在这个抽屉里，那一半哪儿去了？”
他咧开大嘴笑，吃着水果圈，把电视打开又关掉，仍然没有反应。
我不知道怎么做了。这真得很难。“怀亚特，”我再一次尝试，“妈妈想用这把剪刀。你能帮妈妈把它拿来吗？如果你把剪刀拿来，妈妈会很高兴。”
“去看海绵宝宝了”怀亚特一边说一边从厨房的凳子上溜下来，跑掉了。丢下我摇着头，不知情况会怎样发展。
五分钟后，我扭头看到怀亚特正在下楼，一手拿着他喜欢的布娃娃，一手拿着那一半剪刀。我立刻跑过去，接过了剪刀。
“怀亚特，”我抱起了他，“谢谢你给我拿来的剪刀！做得好！你做到了！这把剪刀应该留在厨房里。这是妈妈的剪刀！”
怀亚特笑了，直视着我的眼睛说：“妈妈真开心！”
我差点哭出来。我开始慢慢认识到他是我所得到的最好的礼物，虽然他不像别的孩子一样正常。我为什么要把他看成一个见不得人的可怕的秘密而藏起来呢？不！他是我的骄傲。使他达到现在的样子，能够表达自己的需要和想法而不因懊恼而诉诸暴力，是一个长期而艰难的过程。事实上，每一天都会带来一系列新的挑战，我们已经学了很多方法来对抗自闭症。用爱心和耐心我得到了一个漂亮而快乐的男孩，他会教我更多关于生活的道理。
这就是我对于赐予我的冥冥之谜的解决方案。
附：原文
Relax. He is the same little boy you loved yesterday. I smiled trying to hold back the tears."No he isn't. Yesterday I dreamed he would be an astronaut. Today I am hoping he will learn to talk." It was like some sort of cosmic joke. I could still recall the day that determined my fate. It was October in Ottawa and the summer breezes had given way to the autumn rainfall of leaves. The snow would begin soon. The crispness of coming frost was in the air. My casually mentioning Wyatt's behavior to Dr. Martin aroused his worries. He started asking me questions about Wyatt's activities, speech pattern and emotions. Istill see clearly in my mind the sterility of the room and all its belongings when the doctor turned to me and said, "He almost sounds autistic. I couldn't cope with that picture in my mind. I had to run to get away from this all too painful place that was reminding me of what was to be my child's life-being strange. I could not remember how many times I told myself, "This is normal.He is a little boy who is not talking yet," when my asking questions metwith his blank-eyed response in a restaurant; how many times I would brag,"He loves to play on his own for hours at a time and he never gets into trouble," when Wyatt was playing games that no one else could conceive of, let alone joinin while other boys in the park were playing together or in small group shuddled around a sand pail or toy truck. My life was changing direction. So wasWyatt's. I started to hide Wyatt from my friends and neighbor especially from agood friend. For eight months a friend and I had been pregnant together. Our boys were six days apart. We used to have long phone talks about our babies toshare some fun and loss. It was too painful to let others know about my boy acting strange. It was like a blot in my life that was supposed to be happy and wonderful. It was a Thursday afternoon and I found one half of a great pair of kitchen scissors was missing. They were unbelievably sharp and could be taken apart so they could be washed or the blades sharpened. I knew Wyatt had taken the missing blade. "Wyatt," I began as patiently as I could, "Do you seethis" I held up the blade. "Do you know what this is?" Wyatt stuffed a bunch of Fruit Loops in his mouth. No response. "Wyatt!" I forced eye contact with him. "Where are the other scissors See these" I showed him the half pair. "These are in this drawer. Where are the other ones?" He grinned big. Ate Fruit Loops. Turned the TV on and off. Still no response. I didn't know what to do. It was really hard. "Wyatt," I tried once more, "Mommy wants these scissors. Can you go get them for Mommy. It will make Mommy so happy if you bring me the scissors." "Watch Spongebob" Wyatt asked as he slid down from his kitchen stool and ran off, leaving me shaking my head and wondering in exactly which way this situation was going to end badly. Five minutes later, I turned my head to see Wyatt coming downstairs his favorite doll in one hand, the missing half pair of kitchen scissors in theother. I immediately ran over and took it from him. "Wyatt!" I hugged him. "Thank you for bringing me the scissors!Good job! You did it! These scissors need to stay in the kitchen. These are Mommy's scissors!" Wyatt laughed, looked me straight in the eye and said, "Mommy sohappy!" I was onthe verge of tears. A realization dawned on me that he was the best gift I hadever gotten even though he was not as normal as other children. And why did I hide him from others as if he were some dark and terrible secret No! He was my pride. It was a long, hard battle to get him to this point, expressing hiswants and needs without resorting to violence in frustration. In fact, each new day brings out a new set of challenges and we have learned a lot about fightingthis thing called autism. With love and patience I have found the beautiful,happy boy who would teach me more about life. And that is the solution to my cosmic riddle. | 
发表于 2013-11-21 20:04:13
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