孩子，請聽我說。雖然你睡得正熟，一隻小手掌壓在臉頰下，你的頭髮微濕，卷曲的黏貼在上面。我偷偷溜進你的臥房，因為剛才在書房看報的時候，內心不斷地受苛貴，終於帶著愧疚的心情來到你的床前。
我想了許多事，孩子，我常常對你發脾氣。早上你穿好衣服準備上學，胡亂用毛巾在臉上碰一下。我責備你；你沒有把鞋子擦乾淨，我責備你；看你把東西亂扔，我更生氣對你吼叫。
早餐的時候也一樣。我常罵你打翻東西，吃飯不細嚼慢嚥，把兩肘放在桌上，奶油塗得太厚等等。等到你離開餐桌去玩，我也準備出門，你轉過身，揮著小手喊：『再見，爸爸！』我仍皺著眉頭回答：『肩膀挺好！』
到了傍晚，情況還是一樣。我走在路上，偷偷觀察你，看見你跪在地上玩玻璃彈珠，腳上的襪子都磨破了。我不顧你的顏面，當著別的孩子面前叫你回家。並對你吼說長襪子是很貴的，你要穿就得愛惜一點！想想看，孩子，這話居然出自為人父親的口裡！
記得嗎？就是剛才，我在書房裡看報，不耐煩的叫道：『你要什麼？』你不說一句話，只是快步跑過來，雙手攬住我的脖子親吻。你小手的力量顯示出一份情愛，那是上帝種在你的心田裡，任何漠視都不能使其凋萎。你親過我就跑上樓了。
孩子，就是那時候，報紙從我手中滑落，我突然覺得害怕。我養成了這麼一個壞習慣啊！挑錯、呵斥的習慣──這就是我對待一個小男孩的方法！孩子，不是我不愛你，只是對你，只是對你的期望過高，不自覺地用自己年齡的標準去衡量你了。
其實，你的本性裡有許多真善美，你小小的心靈就像剛從山頭昇起的陽光一樣無限美好，這可以從你天真自然、不顧一切跑過來親吻、道晚安的動作看出來。孩子，今晚其餘的一切都不重要了，我在黑暗中跪到你床邊，深覺愧疚！
這是一種無力的贖罪。我知道你未必懂得我說的這一切。但是，從明天起，我會認真做一個真正的父親！要和你結為好朋友，你痛苦的時候和你一起痛苦，歡樂的時候同你一起歡笑。我會每天告訴自己：『他只不過是個男孩.......一個小男孩！』
我實在不該把你當成大人，孩子，我要求的實在太多太多了。
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原文：
Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.
There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.
At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and I frowned, and said in reply,"Hold your shoulders back!"
Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!
Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?" I snapped.
You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightended with an affection that God had set blooming in our
heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.
Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.
And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to
rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!
It is feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!"
I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.
轉自 http://tw.myblog.yahoo.com/bigaann/article?mid=-2&next=1893&l=a&fid=38
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