Susan returned to her sixth－grade student－teaching experience the following Monday. She told the story to her students and showed them pictures from the newspaper. Her inspired and compassionate students took action. They stopped raising money for their trip to Camp Kern and began raising money for the flood victims. They sold lollipops， wrote letters to the community asking for donations and collected their own money. Even first－graders donated money. Mountains of clothes，furniture and food piled up. Susan"s class made Easter baskets from shoe－boxes and filled them with candy and toys as well as toothpaste，soap，toothbrushes and shampoo.
She and I loaded her mom"s black Chevy Beretta to the ceiling with the Easter baskets. On the trip there，I wondered what I would see；I couldn"t imagine losing almost everything. Dusk was beginning to set in，and I felt nervous when we arrived. My stomach dropped when I saw some houses reduced to the railroad ties that had been their foundation. The smell of river water permeated the air. No carpet，furniture，plumbing or appliances remained. Knowing that only days ago this had been someone"s home pained my heart. How many children had grown up here？What kind of memories lingered？Would the house ever be rebuilt？The monster flood had dulled its roar and retreated，but its impact would be long－lasting.
We drove from house to house，knocking on doors，ready to begin our mission. I was filled with trepidation. Would families who had been devastated by floodwater want an Easter basket？The gesture was beginning to seem useless. "Hello，I"m Susan Moore，and this is my friend，Allison. My sixth－graders at Pennyroyal Elementary made Easter baskets for you when they heard about the flooding because they wanted to help. "
Their faces lit up as they opened their gifts. As we entered one home，a husband and wife were crouched over their floor with hammer and nails. When he opened the box，he began to cry. "I can"t believe those kids did this. Let me give you some money for their school. "As I glanced at what was left of his home，I could not believe his generous spirit. He eventually conceded to write a thank－you note instead. One woman ran out to find us after opening her box，tears rolling down her face. "I collected bunny rabbits，and I lost them all in the flood. There was a small pink rabbit in my box. I can start my collection again. Thank you. "The burly man standing next to her also had tears in his eyes.
My heart was warmed as I played the small role of messenger in this tribute to the good in the human spirit. So often we hear of the shortcomings of our youth，but these youngsters answered a cry for help and gave proof that generosity and love prevail.
半夜时分，下起了瓢泼大雨。俄亥俄州杰克逊的人们被雨声惊醒，但很快地又进入了梦乡。第二天，雨未停，水开始上涨了。据统计，杰克逊每100年发一次水灾，但谁也没有想到这次大雨导致了这场世纪之灾。人们顾不上携带财物，匆匆从家里撤离，逃向高地。洼地里的建筑浸泡在水中。人们眼睁睁地看着狗、猫、牛和其他动物被大水冲走，连汽车和卡车也被冲到离家几英里外的地方。看着老天爷发威，人们束手无策。
苏珊在接下来的周一回到她在六年级的教学实习中。她给学生讲了这件事，并给他们看报纸上的照片，这些富有同情心的学生得到了鼓舞，立即采取行动。他们停止了为坎普克恩之旅筹资，而开始为洪水的受难者募集。他们去卖棒棒糖，写信给社区寻求捐助，还捐出了自己的积蓄。甚至一年级学生也参与了捐助活动。衣服、家具和食品堆得像小山一样。苏珊班里的同学们还用鞋盒子做成复活节礼筐，里面装上糖果、玩具、牙膏、肥皂、牙刷和洗发液等。
我和苏珊把她妈妈的黑色贝里塔车装满了复活节礼筐。在去那里的途中，我思忖着将会看到什么：我想象不到几乎失去一切的景象。夜幕开始降临了，到达的时候，我感到有些紧张。原来盖在铁路路基上的房屋被大水冲走，又露出了路基。看到这种情况，我的心情陡然沉重起来。空气中河水的味道弥漫。毛毯、家具、管道或器具都荡然无存。一想到几天前这还是某人的家时，我就感到心痛。在这儿曾有多少孩子长大成人？会留下什么样的记忆？这房子会重修吗？洪魔已无力咆哮，开始撤退，但他的影响将持续下去。
我们驱车挨门逐户拜访，一家一家地敲门，准备开始我们的任务。我心中有些忧虑。这些被洪水毁坏了的家庭会接收复活节礼筐吗？这些举措显得有些苍白无力了。"你好，我是苏珊？摩尔，这是我的朋友艾利逊。我们潘尼罗耶小学六年级的学生听说这儿发了洪水，特意为您制作了复活节礼筐，因为他们想提供帮助。"
人们打开礼物时都露出欣喜之情。我们走入一户人家，丈夫和妻子正蹲伏在地上，手里拿着锤子和钉子。丈夫打开盒子后，哭了起来。"我真不敢相信这些孩子会这样做。让我拿些钱带给他们学校。"我扫视了一下室内，大水过后，家中财产所剩无几，他的慷慨之举，令人难以置信。经我们劝说，他最终同意不再捐钱，只写了一封感谢信表达他的谢意。一位妇女在打开盒子后连忙追了出来，脸上流着泪："我收集了许多小兔子，但在洪水中全丢了。你们送我的盒子里有一只小粉兔，我又可以开始收集了。谢谢你们！"站在她身边那个魁伟的男人眼里也含着泪
此次，我不过是尽人性之善的使者，微不足道，但能尽微薄之力倍感温謦。经常听到人们指责我们这代年轻人的缺点，但正是这些年轻人在天灾之时，回应了人们的求助，证实了人世间充满了慷慨和爱心。
Three Peach Stones
三颗核桃
Observe a child； any one will do. You will see that not a day passes in which he does not find something or other to make him happy， though he may be in tears the next moment. Then look at a man； any one of us will do. You will notice that weeks and months can pass in which day is greeted with nothing more than resignation， and endure with every polite indifference. Indeed， most men are as miserable as sinners， though they are too bored to sin-perhaps their sin is their indifference. But it is true that they so seldom smile that when they do we do not recognize their face， so distorted is it from the fixed mask we take for granted. And even then a man can not smile like a child， for a child smiles with his eyes， whereas a man smiles with his lips alone. It is not a smile； but a grin； something to do with humor， but little to do with happiness. And then， as anyone can see， there is a point （but who can define that point？） when a man becomes an old man， and then he will smile again.
It would seem that happiness is something to do with simplicity， and that it is the ability to extract pleasure form the simplest things-such as a peach stone， for instance.
It is obvious that it is nothing to do with success. For Sir Henry Stewart was certainly successful. It is twenty years ago since he came down to our village from London ， and bought a couple of old cottages， which he had knocked into one. He used his house as weekend refuge. He was a barrister. And the village followed his brilliant career with something almost amounting to paternal pride.
I remember some ten years ago when he was made a King"s Counsel， Amos and I， seeing him get off the London train， went to congratulate him. We grinned with pleasure； he merely looked as miserable as though he"d received a penal sentence. It was the same when he was knighted； he never smiled a bit， he didn"t even bother to celebrate with a round of drinks at the "Blue Fox". He took his success as a child does his medicine. And not one of his achievements brought even a ghost of a smile to his tired eyes.