真正的勇氣[What Courage Looks Like?]
作者：Member 文章來(lái)源：本站原創(chuàng ) 點(diǎn)擊數：3843 更新時(shí)間：2006-7-21
What Courage Looks Like?
I know what courage looks like. I saw it on a flight I took six years ago,
and only now can I speak of it without tears filling eyes at the memory.
When our L1011 left the Orlando airport that Friday morning, we were a
chipper, high-energy group. The early-morning flights hosted mainly
professional people going to Atlanta for a day or two of business. As I
looked around, I saw lots of designer suites, CEO-caliber haircuts,
leather briefcases and all the trimmings of seasoned business travelers. I
settled back for some light reading and the brief flight ahead.
Immediately upon takeoff, it was clear that something was amiss. The
aircraft was bumping up and down and jerking left to right. All the
experienced travelers, including me, looked around with knowing grins. Our
communal looks acknowledged to one another that we had experienced minor
problems and disturbances before. If you fly much, you see these things
and learn to act blasé about them.
We did not remain blasé for long. Minutes after we were airborne, our
plane began dipping wildly and one wing lunged downward. The plane climbed
higher but that didn’t help. It didn’t. The pilot soon made a grave
announcement.
“We are having some difficulties,” he said. “At this time, it appears we
have no nose-wheel steering. Our indicators show that our hydraulic system
has failed. We will be returning to the Orlando airport at this time.
Because of the lack of hydraulics, we are not sure our landing gear will
lock, so the flight attendants will prepare you for a bumpy landing. Also,
if you look out the windows, you will see that we are dumping fuel from
the airplane. We want to have as little on board as possible in the event
of a rough touchdown. ”
In other words, we were about to crash. No sight has ever been so sobering
as that fuel, hundreds of gallons of it, streaming past my window out of
the plane’s tanks. The flight attendants helped people get into position
and comforted those who were already hysterical.
As I looked at the faces of my fellow business travelers, I was stunned by
the changes I saw in their faces. Many looked visibly frightened now. Even
the most stoic looked grim and ashen. Yes, their faces actually looked
gray in color, something I’d never seen before. There was not one
exception. No one faces death without fear, I thought. Everyone lost
composure in one way or another.
I began searching the crowd for one person who felt peace and calm that
true courage or great faith gives people in these events. I saw no one.
Then a couple of rows to my left, I heard a still calm voice, a woman’s
voice, speaking in an absolutely normal conversational tone. There was no
tremor or tension. It was a lovely, even tone. I had to find the source of
this voice.
All around, people cried. Many wailed and screamed. A few of the men hold
onto their composure by gripping armrests and clenching teeth, but their
fear was written all over them. Although my faith kept me from hysteria, I
could not have spoken so calmly, so sweetly at this moment as the assuring
voice I heard. Finally I saw her.
In the midst of all the chaos, a mother was talking, just talking, to her
child. The woman, in her mid-30’s and unremarkable looking in any other
way, was staring full into the face of her daughter, who looked to be four
years old. The child listened closely, sensing the importance of her
mother’s words. The mother’s gaze held the child so fixed and intent that
she seemed untouched by the sounds of grief and fear around her.
A picture flashed into my mind of another little girl who had recently
survived a terrible plane crash. Speculation had it that she had lived
because her mother had strapped her own body over the little girl’s in
order to protect her. The mother did not survive. The newspapers had been
tracking how the little girl had been treated by psychologists for weeks
afterward to ward off feelings of guilt and unworthiness that often haunt
survivors. The child was told over and over again that it had not been her
fault that her mommy had gone away. I hoped this situation would not end
the same way.
I strained to hear what this mother was telling her child. I was compelled
to hear. I need to hear. Finally, I leaned over and by some miracle could
hear this soft, sure voice with the tone of reassurance. Over and over
again, the mother said, “I love you so much. Do you know for sure that I
love you more than anything﹖”
“Yes, Mommy,” the little girl said.
“And remember, no matter what happens, that I love you always. And that
you are a good girl. Sometimes things happen that are not your fault. You
are still a good girl and my love will always be with you.”
Then the mother put her body over her daughter’s, strapped the seat belt
over both of them and prepared to crash. For no earthly reason, our
landing gear held and our touchdown was not the tragedy it seemed destined
to be. It was over in seconds.
The voice I heard that day never wavered, never acknowledged doubt, and
maintained an evenness that seemed emotionally and physically impossible.
Not one of us hardened business people could have spoken without a
tremoring voice. Only the greatest courage, undergirded by even greater
love, could have borne that mother up and lifted her above the chaos
around her. That mom showed me what a real hero looks like. And for those
few minutes, I heard the voice of courage.
真正的勇氣
我知道真正的勇氣是什么樣子了,是6年前在一架航班上見(jiàn)識的｡僅僅到了現在,憑記憶述說(shuō)這件事的時(shí)候,我才不致熱淚盈眶｡
那個(gè)星期五的早上,當L1011航班飛離奧蘭多機場(chǎng)的時(shí)候,我們這群人是穿著(zhù)入時(shí)､精神抖擻的｡清晨航班搭載的主要是前往亞特蘭大出差一兩天的職業(yè)人士｡向四周打量一下,看到的多是品牌西裝､標準經(jīng)理人式發(fā)型､皮質(zhì)公文包以及老練的商務(wù)旅行者用的各種裝束｡我身子往后一靠,準備輕輕松松讀點(diǎn)什么,度過(guò)時(shí)下這短暫的飛行｡
剛起飛,就分明讓人感到出了什么差錯｡飛機上下顛簸,左右搖晃｡有出門(mén)經(jīng)驗的人,連我在內,都四下環(huán)顧著(zhù),會(huì )心地笑了｡大伙兒的表情在告訴彼此,像這樣的小麻煩和混亂我們以前都遇到過(guò)｡如果你飛機坐多了,這類(lèi)事情見(jiàn)多了,也就學(xué)會(huì )對此無(wú)動(dòng)于衷了｡
但是,我們這次可沒(méi)無(wú)動(dòng)于衷多久｡在空中飛行不幾分鐘,飛機就一只機翼朝下,開(kāi)始瘋了似的下墜｡盡管飛機爬高了些,但無(wú)濟于事,一點(diǎn)用都沒(méi)有｡飛行員很快就嚴肅地向乘客作了通報｡
“我們現在遇到了麻煩,”
他說(shuō)｡“目前看來(lái)前輪轉向裝置已經(jīng)壞了｡指示器顯示,液壓系統失靈｡我們得返回奧蘭多機場(chǎng)｡因為沒(méi)有液壓裝置,所以不能肯定起落架能不能固定得住｡乘務(wù)人員將幫助你們作好著(zhù)陸時(shí)防沖擊的準備｡還有,你們看一下窗外,就會(huì )看見(jiàn)我們正在把飛機上的燃油倒掉｡我們想盡量減輕飛機的負荷,以應對著(zhù)陸時(shí)的顛簸｡”
也就是說(shuō),我們就要墜機了｡從飛機油箱里倒出的幾百加侖燃油在我眼前的舷窗外飛流直下,沒(méi)有比這種景象更能讓人清醒的了｡乘務(wù)人員幫助大家作好防沖擊姿勢,還盡力安慰那些已經(jīng)歇斯底里的人們｡
我看了一下這些出公差的旅伴們,大吃一驚地發(fā)現他們已經(jīng)神情突變｡此時(shí)許多人顯然嚇壞了｡甚至那些最泰然自若的人也顯得表情嚴峻､面如土色｡沒(méi)錯,他們的臉色實(shí)際上看起來(lái)發(fā)灰,這種臉色我可從來(lái)沒(méi)見(jiàn)過(guò)｡在場(chǎng)的沒(méi)有一個(gè)例外｡面對死神誰(shuí)都會(huì )害怕的,我暗自思忖｡每個(gè)人都這般或那般地失態(tài)｡
我的目光在人群中掃過(guò),看看有沒(méi)有人,在這種形勢下,仰賴(lài)其真正的勇氣和偉大的信仰,依然能保持沉著(zhù)冷靜,但是沒(méi)發(fā)現一個(gè)｡后來(lái),在左邊幾排遠的地方,我聽(tīng)到了一個(gè)從容依舊的聲音,一位女性的聲音｡語(yǔ)調絕對正常,就像普通聊天一樣,既沒(méi)有顫抖也沒(méi)有緊張,而是一種悅耳､平靜的語(yǔ)調｡我想弄清這聲音是誰(shuí)發(fā)出的｡
四周都有人在哭｡許多人號啕著(zhù),尖叫著(zhù)｡幾個(gè)男人死死抓住座位扶手,咬緊牙關(guān),竭力保持鎮靜,但是渾身上下卻透出了惶恐｡盡管我的信仰使自己沒(méi)有失控,但是此刻卻怎么也做不到像聽(tīng)到的那個(gè)暖人的聲音那樣,那么鎮定,那么溫柔｡最后,我看到了她｡
在一片混亂中,一位母親正在說(shuō)話(huà),一個(gè)勁兒地對著(zhù)自己的孩子說(shuō)話(huà)｡這位婦女35歲左右的樣子,無(wú)論怎么看都貌不出眾｡她正目不轉睛地注視著(zhù)女兒的臉,女兒看起來(lái)有4歲了｡孩子察覺(jué)到了母親話(huà)的分量,正在全神貫注地聽(tīng)｡母親凝視的目光讓孩子聽(tīng)得聚精會(huì )神,似乎一點(diǎn)也不為周?chē)藗儼腕@恐的聲音所動(dòng)｡
我腦子里閃現出另一個(gè)小姑娘的形象,她是最近一場(chǎng)空難的幸存者｡據推測,她之所以能活下來(lái),全虧了母親用安全帶把她們捆在一起,把她壓在身下保護了她｡母親卻沒(méi)能活下來(lái)｡報紙用幾個(gè)星期的時(shí)間追蹤報道了事后心理醫生對她的治療｡治療的目的是驅除常常困擾幸存者的負罪感和自賤感｡醫生一遍又一遍地告訴小女孩,母親喪命并非她的過(guò)錯｡但愿眼前這事不要出現這種結局｡
我竭力想聽(tīng)清眼前這位母親在告訴孩子些什么｡我身不由己,也需要聽(tīng)一聽(tīng)｡終于,側過(guò)身去,奇妙得很,我居然聽(tīng)清了這溫柔而自信的聲音,那語(yǔ)調是那么讓人寬心｡母親一遍遍地說(shuō):“我十分愛(ài)你｡你相信我愛(ài)你勝過(guò)一切嗎?”
“是的,媽媽,”小姑娘答道｡
“記住,不管發(fā)生什么事情,我永遠愛(ài)你｡你是個(gè)好孩子｡有時(shí)出事不是你的過(guò)錯,你還是好孩子｡我的愛(ài)將永遠與你伴隨｡”
接著(zhù),母親便伏身遮住女兒,把座位上的安全帶系在兩個(gè)人身上,等待空難的降臨｡如有神助一般,我們的起落架居然挺住了｡原本似乎注定的著(zhù)陸慘劇卻沒(méi)有發(fā)生｡一切都在幾秒鐘內結束了｡
那天我聽(tīng)到的那個(gè)聲音沒(méi)有絲毫的動(dòng)搖,沒(méi)有流露出半點(diǎn)猶豫｡它擁有一份無(wú)論從感情上還是從身體上來(lái)講都令人難以置信的平和｡我們這些飽經(jīng)世事的買(mǎi)賣(mài)人當時(shí)沒(méi)有一個(gè)說(shuō)話(huà)聲音不打顫的｡只有最偉大的勇氣,再加上更博大的愛(ài)心的支撐,才使這位母親挺住了,超然于周?chē)幕靵y之上｡這位母親讓我見(jiàn)識了什么是真正的英雄本色｡在那幾分鐘內,我聽(tīng)到的是勇敢發(fā)出的聲音｡
(by Casey Hawley/王國琮 許效禮 譯)
