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亲爱的老师,亲爱的同学:
你们好!
春去秋来,花开花落,岁月匆匆。弹指间,小学六年的生活就到了尽头。回想起难忘的小学生活,真有点儿怀念。回头即将告别伴我走过六年时光的母校,告别曾为我日夜操劳的老师,,告别与我和睦相处的同学们。
从小学一年级开始到现在,学校里的每一栋房子,又坚挺的为我们服务了六年;学校里高大挺拔的树木,都增添了六个年轮;学校里的每一株小草、小花,都年复一年长得更壮。老师的脸也渐渐变得空虚了,皱纹布满了他们整个额头,已经数不清条数了,白发也生了许多,看上去也不怎么年轻了;体质变的越来越虚弱,变成体弱多病了。老师的这一切的改变,何不是因为我们,为我们操心而有的?
我记得我刚进入一年级,我们的班主任就在班级的门口等我们的到来,放学回家时,妈妈来接我时,老师跟每位家长都说了一句:你的孩子今天表现不错。我先前还不知道怎么一回事,现在明白了:老师是为了鼓励我们而对家长说的。
三年级时,班主任是何帅老师,一次,我带了好几包零食去学校,快放学时在吃,有人去告了状,我还以为会被臭骂一顿,变做好了心理准备。随之,老师并没有骂我,而是和蔼可亲的对我说:“你肚子饿了尽管吃,只要不被别人看见就可以了。”老师的这一句话,蕴含着他对我们的爱。
很快,我们都要分离说再见了,我们都要离开亲爱的母校,我们都是依依不舍。再见了,亲爱的母校。
Dear leaders,dear teachers and dear students,
Duke accepted me as an ‘early decision’ candidate and,for the first time,I felt seen,and heard and valued.One of the finest universities in the nation was willing to bet on me.I was,and I remain,eternally grateful for the opportunity to attend and graduate in the Trinity Class of 1979.My Duke degree and our Blue Devil family have opened more doors than I could have imagined and stood in support when I needed it the most.
Graduates,today,we still find ourselves in the same morass of exclusion and intolerance I experienced all those years ago.The high degree of acrimony is unyielding and discouraging,but I want to make sure you hear this: Discouragement doesn’t have to be debilitating.If anything,discouragement should drive you to open your own doors and design your own future.
And just remember when you open those doors,there will be people on the other side.Some of them will be cheerleaders,and some of them will be critics.The challenges you face on your uphill climb will often come with an audience,because the reality is this: Adversity doesn’t happen always in private.
I know this all too well.
youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.
youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity of the appetite, for adventure over the love of ease. this often exists in a man of sixty more than a body of twenty. nobody grows old merely by a number of years. we grow old by deserting our ideals.
years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.
whether sixty or sixteen, there is in every human being's heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing child-like appetite of what's next, and the joy of the game of living. in the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station; so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from the infinite, so long are you young.
when the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at twenty, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch the waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at eighty.