”Such humiliation paled, though, beside the impending fall recital. I would have to play a solo on a local movie theater's stage. I wanted to skip the whole thing. Emotions boiled over in the car one Sunday afternoon. "I don't want to play a solo." I said. "You have to," replied my father.

不过，这种羞辱与即将来临的秋季演奏会相比，算不得什么。我得在当地一家影剧院舞台上独奏一曲。我想逃避这一切。一个星期天的下午，不满的情绪终于在车上爆发了。“我不想独奏，”我说。“你必须去，”父亲说。

 

"Why?" I shouted. "Because you didn't get to play your violin when you were a kid? Why should I have to play this stupid instrument when you never had to play yours?"Dad pulled the car over and pointed at me. "Because you can bring people joy. You can touch their hearts. That's a gift I won't let you throw away." He added softly, "Someday you'll have the chance I never had: you'll play beautiful music for your family. And you'll understand why you've worked so hard."

“为什么？”我叫了起来。“就因为你小时候没能拉上小提琴？你从来不用拉琴，我为什么必须拉那笨重的玩意？”爸爸把车开到路边，手指着我。“因为你能给人们带来快乐。你能拨动他们的心弦。我不会让你放弃这份才能。”爸爸又心平气和地说：“有一天你会有我从未有过的机会：你能为你的全家弹奏美妙的音乐。那时你会明白，如此努力到底是为什么。”