康康map-
Caring can take a while
One day, many years ago, when I was working as a psychologist at a children"s institution in England, an adolescent boy showed up in the waiting room. I went out there where he was walking up and down restlessly. I showed him into my office and pointed to the chair on the other side of my desk. It was in late autumn, and the lilac bush outside the window had shed all its leaves. “Please sit down,” I said.
David wore a black rain coat that was buttoned all the way up to his neck. His face was pale, and he stared at his feet while wringing his hands nervously. He had lost his father as an infant, and had lived together with his mother and grandfather since. But the year before David turned 13, his grandfather died and his mother was killed in a car accident. Now he was 14 and in family care.
His head teacher had referred him to me. “This boy,” he wrote, “is understandably very sad and depressed. He refuses to talk to others and I"m very worried about him. Can you help?”
I looked at David. How could I help him? There are human tragedies psychology doesn"t have the answer to, and which no words can describe. Sometimes the best thing one can do is to listen openly and sympathetically.
The first two times we met, David didn"t say a word. He sat hunched up in the chair and only looked up to look at the children"s drawings on the wall behind me. As he was about to leave after the second visit, I put my hand on his shoulder. He didn"t shrink back, but he didn"t look at me either.
“Come back next week, if you like,” I said. I hesitated a bit. Then I said, “I know it hurts.”
He came, and I suggested we play a game of chess. He nodded. After that we played chess every Wednesday afternoon – in complete silence and without making any eye contact. It"s not easy to cheat in chess, but I admit that I made sure David won once or twice.
Usually, he arrived earlier than agreed, took the chessboard and pieces from the shelf and began setting them up before I even got a chance to sit down. It seemed as if he enjoyed my company. But why did he never look at me?
“Perhaps he simply needs someone to share his pain with,” I thought. “Perhaps he senses that I respect his suffering.” One afternoon in late winter, David took off his rain coat and put it on the back of the chair. While he was setting up the chess pieces, his face seemed more alive and his motions more lively.
Some months later, when the lilacs blossomed outside, I sat staring at David"s head, while he was bent over the chessboard. I thought about how little we know about therapy – about the mysterious process associated with healing. Suddenly, he looked up at me.
“It"s your turn,” he said.
After that day, David started talking. He got friends in school and joined a bicycle club. He wrote to me a few times (“I"m biking with some friends and I feel great”); letters about how he would try to get into university. After some time, the letters stopped. Now he had really started to live his own life.
Maybe I gave David something. At least I learned a lot from him. I learned how time makes it possible to overcome what seems to be an insuperable pain. I learned to be there for people who need me. And David showed me how one – without any words – can reach out to another person. All it takes is a hug, a shoulder to cry on, a friendly touch, a sympathetic nature – and an ear that listens.
许多年前我在英格兰一所儿童学校里当心理医生，有一天，一名少年出现在候诊室。我走了出去，他正在那儿焦躁地来回踱步。
我将他引进了我的办公室，指向办公桌另一边的椅子。时值晚秋，窗外的丁香丛叶已落尽。“请坐，”我说。
戴维穿着一件黑色的防雨外套，纽扣一直向上系到脖子处。他脸色苍白，一边盯着自己的脚一边紧张地扭动着双手。他还是婴儿时父亲就死了，然后他一直和母亲及爷爷一起生活。但是在戴维12岁那年，他的爷爷去世了，他的母亲在一起车祸中丧生。如今戴维14岁，寄养在别人家里。
他的班主任曾经跟我提起过他。“这个男孩儿，”他写道，“情绪非常低落、沮丧，这我们可以理解。他拒绝和别人说话，我非常担心他。你可以帮忙吗？”
我看着戴维。我能如何帮助他呢？有些人间悲剧是没办法用心理学解决的，也无法用语言描述。有时候，我们能做的最有效的事情就是敞开心扉，怀着一颗同情心去倾听。
最开始的两次见面中戴维一句话都没说。他弓着身子坐在椅子上，抬起眼睛时只是去看挂在我身后墙上的孩子们的画。第二次见面他要离开时，我把手放到他肩膀上。他没有退缩，但还是没有看我。
“如果你愿意，下周可以再来，”我说道。我犹豫了一下，然后说，“我知道经历这些非常痛苦。”
一周后他又来了，我建议一块儿下棋，他点头同意。从那以后，我们每周三的下午都会下棋——一句话都不说，完全没有眼神交流。想在下棋时作弊不太容易，不过我承认我偶尔让他赢了一两局。
他通常都会比约定时间早到，然后将棋盘和棋子从架子上拿下来，在我进屋坐好之前就动手将它们摆好。似乎他喜欢我陪他玩儿，不过为什么他从不看我呢？
“也许他只是想要有人来分担他的痛苦，”我心里想着，“也许他感觉到我尊重他遭受的这些痛苦。”晚冬的一天下午，他脱下外套放到椅背上。摆棋子时，他的脸色看起来比以前红润一些，他的动作也更加活泼。
几个月后，窗外的丁香已经开花。戴维弯着身子看着棋盘，我坐在那儿盯着他的头。我在想，我们对治疗方法——对将疾病治愈的这个难以捉摸的过程——实在是知之甚少。忽然，戴维抬起眼睛看着我。
“该你了，”他说。
从那天起，戴维开口了。他在校园里结交了朋友，还参加了自行车俱乐部。他给我写过几次信（他写道，“我和一些朋友一块儿骑车，感觉棒极了”），说他将来会如何努力考大学。几次之后，他便不再写信了——他已经开始他自己的生活了。
也许我教会戴维一些东西，但至少我从他那里学到了许多。我见证了时间是如何将看似无法逾越的痛苦抚平。我明白了我会在人们需要我的时候陪在他们身边。戴维让我看到了一个人如何不用任何语言向另一个人伸出援手。他需要的全部就是一个拥抱、一个可以靠住哭泣的肩膀、一个友好的抚摸、一颗同情心——还有一只倾听的耳朵。
苏萦-
许多年前我在英格兰一所儿童学校里当心理医生，有一天，一名少年出现在候诊室。我走了出去，他正在那儿焦躁地来回踱步。
我将他引进了我的办公室，指向办公桌另一边的椅子。时值晚秋，窗外的丁香丛叶已落尽。“请坐，”我说。
戴维穿着一件黑色的防雨外套，纽扣一直向上系到脖子处。他脸色苍白，一边盯着自己的脚一边紧张地扭动着双手。他还是婴儿时父亲就死了，然后他一直和母亲及爷爷一起生活。但是在戴维12岁那年，他的爷爷去世了，他的母亲在一起车祸中丧生。如今戴维14岁，寄养在别人家里。
他的班主任曾经跟我提起过他。“这个男孩儿，”他写道，“情绪非常低落、沮丧，这我们可以理解。他拒绝和别人说话，我非常担心他。你可以帮忙吗？”
我看着戴维。我能如何帮助他呢？有些人间悲剧是没办法用心理学解决的，也无法用语言描述。有时候，我们能做的最有效的事情就是敞开心扉，怀着一颗同情心去倾听。
最开始的两次见面中戴维一句话都没说。他弓着身子坐在椅子上，抬起眼睛时只是去看挂在我身后墙上的孩子们的画。第二次见面他要离开时，我把手放到他肩膀上。他没有退缩，但还是没有看我。
“如果你愿意，下周可以再来，”我说道。我犹豫了一下，然后说，“我知道经历这些非常痛苦。”
一周后他又来了，我建议一块儿下棋，他点头同意。从那以后，我们每周三的下午都会下棋——一句话都不说，完全没有眼神交流。想在下棋时作弊不太容易，不过我承认我偶尔让他赢了一两局。
他通常都会比约定时间早到，然后将棋盘和棋子从架子上拿下来，在我进屋坐好之前就动手将它们摆好。似乎他喜欢我陪他玩儿，不过为什么他从不看我呢？
“也许他只是想要有人来分担他的痛苦，”我心里想着，“也许他感觉到我尊重他遭受的这些痛苦。”晚冬的一天下午，他脱下外套放到椅背上。摆棋子时，他的脸色看起来比以前红润一些，他的动作也更加活泼。
几个月后，窗外的丁香已经开花。戴维弯着身子看着棋盘，我坐在那儿盯着他的头。我在想，我们对治疗方法——对将疾病治愈的这个难以捉摸的过程——实在是知之甚少。忽然，戴维抬起眼睛看着我。
“该你了，”他说。
从那天起，戴维开口了。他在校园里结交了朋友，还参加了自行车俱乐部。他给我写过几次信（他写道，“我和一些朋友一块儿骑车，感觉棒极了”），说他将来会如何努力考大学。几次之后，他便不再写信了——他已经开始他自己的生活了。
也许我教会戴维一些东西，但至少我从他那里学到了许多。我见证了时间是如何将看似无法逾越的痛苦抚平。我明白了我会在人们需要我的时候陪在他们身边。戴维让我看到了一个人如何不用任何语言向另一个人伸出援手。他需要的全部就是一个拥抱、一个可以靠住哭泣的肩膀、一个友好的抚摸、一颗同情心——还有一只倾听的耳朵。
nicehost-
关爱，可以持久。
可乐-
关心需要一段时间
FinCloud-
关心可以需要一段时间
Chen-
21世纪报的阅读啊 我也急需