1. The months rolled by. The violets had long ago stopped blooming, their leaves were turning yellow, but they had beautiful green seed-caskets, full of rows of little pearls, which next year should come up in blue violets. The dog-toothed violet and the eye-bright had gone under ground, so that no more was seen of them, and Daisy wondered whither they could be gone. But she had new acquaintances, far more brilliant, and she forgot the others. The brook-side seemed all on fire with golden-rod, and the bright yellow was relieved by the rich purple tints of the asters, while the blue-fringed gentian held up its cups, that seemed as if they might have been cut out of the sky;—and still Daisy had abundance of leaves and blossoms, and felt strong and well at the root. Then the apple-tree cast down to the ground its fragrant burden of golden apples, and men came and carried them away.

2. By and by there came keen, cutting winds, and driving storms of sleet and hail; and then at night it would be so cold, so cold! and one after another the leaves and flowers fell stiff and frozen, and grew black, and turned to decay. The leaves loosened and fell from the apple-tree, and sailed away by thousands down the brook; the butterfl ies lay dead with the fl owers, but all the birds had gone singing away to the sunny south, following the summer into other lands.

3. “Tell me, dear tree,” said Daisy, “is this winter that is coming?”

“It is winter, darling,” said the tree; “but fear not. The Good Shepherd makes winter as well as summer.”

“ I still hold my blossoms,” said Daisy, for Daisy was a hardy little thing.

4. But the frosts came harder and harder every night, and fi rst they froze her blossoms, and then they froze her leaves, and fi nally all, all were gone,—there was nothing left but the poor little root, with the folded leaves of the future held in its bosom.

5. “Ah, dear tree!” said Daisy, “is not this dreadful?”

“Be patient, darling,” said the tree. “I have seen many, many winters; but the Good Shepherd loses never a seed, never a rout, never a fl ower: they will all come again.”

6. By and by came colder days and colder, and the brook froze to its little heart and stopped; and then there came bitter, driving storms, and the snow lay wreathed over Daisy’s head; but still from the bare branches of the apple-tree came a voice of cheer. “Courage, darling, and patience! Not a fl ower shall be lost: winter is only for a season.”

“It is so dreary!” murmured Daisy, deep in her bosom.

“It will be short: the spring will come again,” said the tree.

7. And at last spring did come; and the snow melted and ran away down the brook, and the sun shone out warm, and fresh green leaves jumped and sprang out of every dry twig of the apple-tree. And one bright, rejoicing day, little Daisy opened her eyes, and lo! there were all her friends once more;—there were the eye-brights and the violets and the anemones and the liverwort,—only ever so many more of them than there were last year, because each little pearl of a seed had been nursed and moistened by the snows of winter, and had come up as a little plant to have its own fl owers. The birds all came back, and began building their nests, and every thing was brighter and fairer than before; and Daisy felt strong at heart, because she had been through a winter, and learned not to fear it. She looked up into the apple-tree. “Will there be more winters, dear tree?” she said.

8. “Darling, there will; but fear not. Enjoy the present hour, and leave future winters to Him who makes them. Thou hast come through these sad hours, because the Shepherd remembered thee. He loseth never a fl ower out of his pasture, but calleth them all by name : and the snow will never drive so cold, nor the wind beat so hard, as to hurt one of his fl owers. And look! of all the fl owers of last year, what one is melted away in the snow, or forgotten in the number of green things? Every blade of grass is counted, and puts up its little head in the right time; so never fear, Daisy, for thou shalt blossom stronger and brighter for the winter.”

9. “But why must there be winter?” said Daisy.

“I never ask why,” said the tree. “My business is to blossom and bear apples. Summer comes, and I am joyful; winter comes, and I am patient. But, darling, there is another garden where thou and I shall be transplanted oneday, where there shall be winter no more. There is coming a new earth;

and not one fl ower or leaf of these green pastures shall be wanting there, but come as surely as last year’s fl owers come back this spring!”

( HARRIET B. STOWE )

中文阅读

1. 时光匆匆，眨眼几个月过去了。紫罗兰早就不开花了，它们的叶子也慢慢变黄了。不过，它们结出了美丽的绿色种荚，种荚里长满了几排小小的珍珠。来年，这些珍珠就会长出蓝色的紫罗兰。

犬齿赤莲和小米草消失在地底下，一株都不见了。小雏菊好奇地想，不知道它们去了哪里。但是，她有了新朋友，它们更加绚丽多姿，她已经把老朋友给忘到了脑后。整条小溪的溪畔似乎都燃起了明艳的一枝黄；鲜亮的黄色逐渐被紫苑浓厚的紫色代替；口裂龙胆举起酒杯一样的花朵儿，这些蓝莹莹的花朵儿仿若从蓝天上雕刻出来的。这个时节，雏菊还有很多叶子、很多花朵，她感觉自己状态良好。这时，苹果树把它馥郁的负累——金色的苹果丢到地上。人们来了，把果子捡走了。

2. 不久之后，猛烈的寒风来了，还带来了冻雨和冰雹。晚上，天气非常非常冷！树叶和花朵一片接一片、一朵接一朵冻僵了，结冰了，渐渐枯成黑色，开始腐烂。树叶从苹果树上飘落下来。成千上万片枯叶随着小溪飘走了。蝴蝶跟花儿一起冻死了。所有的鸟儿都唱着歌飞去阳光明媚的南方，它们追着夏天到别的地方去了。

3. 雏菊说：“告诉我，亲爱的大树，是冬天来了吗？”

大树说：“是冬天来了，亲爱的。不过不要怕。好牧羊人制造了冬季也制造了夏季。”

雏菊说：“我还开着花呢。”因为雏菊是个耐寒的小东西。

4. 然而，夜里的寒霜越来越重。寒霜先是冻僵了她的花儿，接着冻僵了她的叶子，最后，全都消失了——什么都没留下，除了那可怜的小根茎，和根茎胸口几片折叠着的叶子，留在来年发芽。

5. 雏菊说：“啊，亲爱的大树！这还不可怕吗？”

大树说：“耐心点儿，亲爱的。我见过很多、很多个冬天了，可是好牧羊人从来没有丢失一粒种子、一条根、一朵花。它们都会回来的。”

6. 天气越来越冷，小溪结结实实地上了冻，不再潺潺流淌了。这时，严寒挟裹着狂风暴雪来了，大雪盖住了雏菊的脑袋。然而，苹果树光秃秃的树枝犹自传出鼓舞人心的声音：“亲爱的，勇敢一些！耐心一些！没有一朵花会被落下！冬天不过是个季节。”

“真是太可怕了！”雏菊暗暗在心里说，“很快就结束了：春天会再来的。”

7. 春天终于来了；积雪融化了，随着小溪潺潺流走；太阳暖融融的，苹果树每个小枯枝上都迸出嫩绿的新叶。在一个明媚、快乐的日子里，小雏菊睁开眼睛。瞧！她的朋友们又全都回来了——有小米草、紫罗兰、银莲花和地钱——一个没少，反而比去年更多了，因为小珍珠一样的种子在冬日积雪的呵护、滋养下，长成了一株株小小的植物，绽放出自己的花朵。鸟儿全都回来了，开始筑巢垒窝。所有的一切都比以前更欢快、更美好了。雏菊觉得自己更坚强了，因为她熬过了苦冬，学会了不畏严寒。她抬起头看着苹果树，问道：“以后还会有更多的冬天吗，亲爱的大树？”

8. “亲爱的，会有的。但是，不要怕。享受现在的美好时光吧，把未来的冬天留给制造了冬天的人吧。你熬过了那些凄惨的时光，因为牧羊人记得你。他永远都不会放弃他这片草地上的一朵花，而是一一呼唤着他们的名字：大雪永远都不会冷到伤害他的花儿，寒风也永远都不会凛冽到摧残他的花儿。瞧瞧去年这些花儿，可有哪位被大雪冻僵，可有哪位在绿色的海洋中被遗忘？每一片草叶都得到了重视，在合适的时候昂起它们那小小的脑袋。所以，永远都不要害怕，雏菊，因为有了冬天，你将会绽放得更加坚强、更加艳丽。”

9. “可是为什么非要有冬天不可？”雏菊问道。

“我从来不问为什么，”大树说：“我要做的就是开花结果。夏天来了，我快乐欢喜；冬天到了，我耐心等待。但是，亲爱的，有朝一日，你我都会被带到另一座花园，那里永远不会再有冬天。那里有新鲜的泥土，这些绿地上，没有一朵花、一片叶会想去那里。但是，就像去年的花儿今春会回来一样，我们都会去往那个地方。”

（哈里特· B · 斯托） qL7VLSne/BmteInLguUnlPdFH/QsBiVVo8zFuCfToE8inh+vYdkFkMd62ZiJn514