When I was growing up, I was embarrassed to be seen with my father. He was severely crippled and very short, and when we would walk together, his hand on my arm for balance, people would stare. I would inwardly squirm at the unwanted attention. If he ever noticed or was bothered, he never let on.
It was difficult to coordinate our steps -- his halting, mine impatient -- and because of that, we didnt say much as we went along. But as we started out, he always said, You set the pace. I will try to adjust to you.
Our usual walk was to or from the subway, which was how he got to work. He went to work sick, and despite nasty weather. He almost never missed a day, and would make it to the office even if others could not. A matter of pride.
When snow or ice was on the ground, it was impossible for him to walk, even with help. At such times my sisters or I would pull him through the streets of Brooklyn, NY, on a childs sleigh to the subway entrance. once there, he would cling to the handrail until he reached the lower steps that the warmer tunnel air kept ice-free. In Manhattan the subway station was the ba百度竞价推广ent of his office building, and he would not have to go outside again until we met him in Brooklyn on his way home.
When I think of it now, I marvel at how much courage it must have taken for a grown man to subject himself to such indignity and stress. And at how he did it -- without bitterness or complaint .
He never talked about himself as an object of pity, nor did he show any envy of the more fortunate or able. What he looked for in others was a good heart, and if he found one, the owner was good enough for him.
Now that I am older, I believe that is a proper standard by which to judge people, even though I still don t know precisely what a good heart is. But I know the times I dont have one myself.
Unable to engage in many activities, my father still tried to participate in some way. When a local sandlot baseball team found itself |without a manager, he kept it going. He was a knowledgeable baseball fan and often took me to Ebbets Field to see the Brooklyn Dodgers play. He liked to go to dances and parties, where he could have a good time just sitting and watching.
On one memorable occasion a fight broke out at a beach party, with everyone punching and shoving. He wasnt content to sit and watch, but he couldnt stand unaided on the soft sand. In frustration he began to shout, I ll fight anyone who will tit down with me!
Nobody did. But the next day people kidded him by saying it was the first time any fighter was urged to take a dive even before the bout began.
I now know he participated in some things vicariously through me, his only son. When I played ball , he played too. When I joined the Navy he joined too. And when I came home on leave, he saw to it that I visited his office. Introducing me, he was really saying, This is my son, but it is also me, and I could have done this, too, if things had been different. Those words were never said aloud.
He has been gone many years now, but I think of him often. I wonder if he sensed my reluctance to be seen with him during our walks. If he did, I am sorry I never told him how sorry I was, how unworthy I was, how I regretted it. I think of him when I complain about trifles, when I am envious of anothers good fortune, when I dont have a good heart.
At such times I put my hand on his arm to regain my balance, and say, You set the pace, I will try to adjust to you.
在我成长的过程中，我一直羞于让其他人看见的和爸爸在一块。我的爸爸身材矮小，腿上有紧急的残疾。当大家一块走路时，他一直挽着我以维持身体平衡，这个时候总招来一些异样的目光，令我无地自容。可是假如他注意到了这类，不管他内心多么痛苦，也从不表现出来。
走路时，大家非常难相互协调起来----他的步子慢慢腾腾，我的步子焦燥不安。所以一路上大家交谈得极少。但每次出行前，他一直说，你走你的，我想法儿跟上你。
大家常常往返于从家到他上班乘坐的地铁站的那段路上。他有病也要上班，就算天气恶劣。他几乎从未误过一天工，就是在其他人不可以去的状况下，他也要设法去上班。实在值得骄傲!
每当冰封大地，雪花飘飘的时候，如果是没帮助，他简直步履蹒跚。每当此时，我或我的姐妹们就用儿童雪橇把他拉过纽约布鲁克林区的街道，一直送他到地铁的入口处。一到那儿，他便手抓扶手一直走到底下的台阶时才放开手，由于那里通道的空气暖和些，地面上没结冰。到了曼哈顿，地铁站就在他办公楼的地下一层，在大家在布鲁克林接他回家之前他无须再走出楼来。
现在每当我想起这类，我惊叹一个成年男子要经受信这种侮辱和重压得需要多么大的勇气啊!叹服他居然可以做到这一点，不带任何痛苦，没丝毫抱怨。
他从不说自己可怜，也从不嫉妒其他人的幸运和能力。他所期望的是人家善良的心，当他得到时，人家真的对他非常不错。
现在我已经长大成人，我了解了善良的心是评价人的适合的规范，尽管我仍不非常了解它的确切涵义，但我却了解我有缺少善心的时候。
虽然爸爸不可以参加很多活动，但他仍然没法以某种方法参与进去。当一个地方棒球队发现缺少一个领队时，他便作了领队。由于他是个棒球迷，有丰富的棒球常识，他过去常带我地埃比茨棒球场观看布鲁克林的鬼精灵队的比赛。他喜欢参加舞会和晚会，乐意坐着看。
记得有一次的海边晚会上，有人打架，动了拳头，推推搡搡。他不甘于坐在那里当观众，但又没办法在松软的沙滩上自己站起来。于是，失望之下，他吼了起来：哪个想坐下和我打?
无人响应。但第二天，大家都取笑他说比赛还没有开始，拳击手就被劝认输，这还是头一次看见。
目前我了解一些事情他是通过我--他唯一的儿子来做的。当我打球时，他也在打球。当我参加海军时，他也参加。当时我回家休息时，他必须要让我去他的办公室，在介绍我时，他真真切切地说，这是我儿子，但也是我一个人，倘若事情不是如此的话，我也会去参军的?爸爸离开大家已经不少年了，但我时常想起他。我不了解他是不是意识到我过去不想叫人看到和他走在一块的心理。倘若他了解这所有，我目前感到非常遗憾，由于我从没告诉过他我是多么愧疚、多么不孝、多么悔恨。每当我为一些琐事而抱怨时，为其他人的好运而妒忌时，为我一个人缺少善心时，我就会想起我的爸爸。
此时，我会挽着他的胳膊维持身体平衡，并且说，你走你的，我想法儿跟上你。
（编辑：英语之家）
