上世紀(jì)六十年代，我上小學(xué)三年級的時候，學(xué)校里組織我們?nèi)�參觀一個苦難展覽，我們在老師的引領(lǐng)下放聲大哭。為了能讓老師看到我的表現(xiàn)，我舍不得擦去臉上的淚水。我看到有幾位同學(xué)悄悄地將唾沫抹到臉上冒充淚水。我還看到在一片真哭假哭的同學(xué)之間，有一位同學(xué)，臉上沒有一滴淚，嘴巴里沒有一點聲音，也沒有用手掩面。他睜著大眼看著我們，眼睛里流露出驚訝或者是困惑的神情。事后，我向老師報告了這位同學(xué)的行為。為此，學(xué)校給了這位同學(xué)一個警告處分。多年之后，當(dāng)我因自己的告密向老師懺悔時，老師說，那天來找他說這件事的，有十幾個同學(xué)。這位同學(xué)十幾年前就已去世，每當(dāng)想起他，我就深感歉疚。這件事讓我悟到一個道理，那就是：當(dāng)眾人都哭時，應(yīng)該允許有的人不哭。當(dāng)哭成為一種表演時，更應(yīng)該允許有的人不哭。

When I was a third-grade student in the 1960s, my school organized a field trip to an exhibit of suffering, where, under the direction of our teacher, we cried bitter tears. I let my tears stay on my cheeks for the benefit of our teacher, and watched as some of my classmates spat in their hands and rubbed it on their faces as pretend tears. I saw one student among all those wailing children – some real, some phony – whose face was dry and who remained silent without covering his face with his hands. He just looked at us, eyes wide open in an expression of surprise or confusion. After the visit I reported him to the teacher, and he was given a disciplinary warning. Years later, when I expressed my remorse over informing on the boy, the teacher said that at least ten students had done what I did. The boy himself had died a decade or more earlier, and my conscience was deeply troubled when I thought of him. But I learned something important from this incident, and that is: When everyone around you is crying, you deserve to be allowed not to cry, and when the tears are all for show, your right not to cry is greater still.

我再講一個故事：三十多年前，我還在部隊工作。有一天晚上，我在辦公室看書，有一位老長官推門進(jìn)來，看了一眼我對面的位置，自言自語道：“噢，沒有人？”我隨即站起來，高聲說：“難道我不是人嗎？”那位老長官被我頂?shù)妹婕t耳赤，尷尬而退。為此事，我洋洋得意了許久，以為自己是個英勇的斗士，但事過多年后，我卻為此深感內(nèi)疚。

Here is another story: More than thirty years ago, when I was in the army, I was in my office reading one evening when an elderly officer opened the door and came in. He glanced down at the seat in front of me and muttered, “Hm, where is everyone?” I stood up and said in a loud voice, “Are you saying I’m no one?” The old fellow’s ears turned red from embarrassment, and he walked out. For a long time after that I was proud about what I consider a gutsy performance. Years later, that pride turned to intense qualms of conscience.

請允許我講最后一個故事，這是許多年前我爺爺講給我聽過的：有八個外出打工的泥瓦匠，為避一場暴風(fēng)雨，躲進(jìn)了一座破廟。外邊的雷聲一陣緊似一陣，一個個的火球，在廟門外滾來滾去，空中似乎還有吱吱的龍叫聲。眾人都膽戰(zhàn)心驚，面如土色。有一個人說：“我們八個人中，必定一個人干過傷天害理的壞事，誰干過壞事，就自己走出廟接受懲罰吧，免得讓好人受到牽連。”自然沒有人愿意出去。又有人提議道：“既然大家都不想出去，那我們就將自己的草帽往外拋吧，誰的草帽被刮出廟門，就說明誰干了壞事，那就請他出去接受懲罰。”于是大家就將自己的草帽往廟門外拋，七個人的草帽被刮回了廟內(nèi)，只有一個人的草帽被卷了出去。大家就催這個人出去受罰，他自然不愿出去，眾人便將他抬起來扔出了廟門。故事的結(jié)局我估計大家都猜到了——那個人剛被扔出廟門，那座破廟轟然坍塌。

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