[每天读一点英文：那些给我勇气的句子]The Daffodil Principle

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must cometo see the daffodils( [daf·fo·dil || 'dæfədɪl]n.  水仙花) before they are over. "I wanted to go, but it wasa two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead "I will come nextTuesday", I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

NextTuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly Idrove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's house I was welcomedby the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged andgreeted my grandchildren.

"Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! Theroad is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in theworld except you and these children that I want to see badly enough todrive another inch!"

My daughter smiled calmly and said, "Wedrive in this all the time, Mother." "Well, you won't get me back onthe road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.

"But first we're going to see the daffodils. It's just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

"Carolyn,"I said sternly, "Please turn around." "It's all right, Mother, Ipromise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."

Afterabout twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel(gravel  [grav·el || 'grævl]n.  砂砾; 砂砾层) road and I saw asmall church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered signwith an arrow that read, "Daffodil Garden." We got out of the car, eachtook a child's hand, and I follow wed Carolyn down the path. Then, aswe turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the mostglorious sight.

Itlooked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured itover the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers wereplanted in majestic( [ma·jes·tic || mə'dʒestɪk]adj.  宏伟的; 庄严的), swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths( [swɔːθ]n.  长而宽的一长条) ofdeep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron(saffron  [saf·fron || 'sæfrən]n.  藏红花, 番红花; 橙黄色;) andbutter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in largegroups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its ownunique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

"Who did this?" Iasked Carolyn. "Just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on theproperty. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-framehouse, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. Wewalked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster."Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking", was the headline. Thefirst answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it read. The secondanswer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and onebrain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958."

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. Ithought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty yearsbefore, had begun, one bulb( [bʌlb]n.  球茎) at a time, to bring her vision of beautyand joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, yearafter year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in whichshe lived. One day at a time, she had created something ofextraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle herdaffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.



Thatis, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at atime--often just one baby-step at time--and learning to love the doing,learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny piecesof time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we canaccomplish magnificent things. We can change the world .

"Itmakes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I haveaccomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or fortyyears ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through allthose years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow", she said.