高三英语培优·名著阅读之心灵鸡汤精选 Don’t Stop Believing 班级：_____学号：_____姓名：_____ 心灵鸡汤精选Don’t Stop Believing 话题归类 阅读难度 词数 孩子的改变 五星 743 【文章梗概】我患有自闭症的儿子, Mickey, 惧怕理发。每次Mickey去理发，无论是对家长还是孩子都是一场身心疲惫的尴尬的场景。在治疗师的帮助下，Mickey逐步改变。现在，理发是自发而愉快的正常社交活动。但是，这样简单的15分钟的理发，却花了我们几年的时间才完成这个转变。永远相信奇迹会发生。 If you can imagine it, you can achieve it. If you can dream it, you can become it. ~William A. Ward Two days before our nineteen-year-old son Mickey leaves for sleep-away camp, he asks to get a haircut. No big deal, right But fifteen years ago this would have been unthinkable. Back then, the barbershop was the scene of some of our worst parenting moments. By 8:00 a.m. of the Dreaded Haircut Day, my husband Marc would already be muttering, “I need a Scotch before I can do this” — and he doesn’t even drink Scotch. Bracing himself in the barber chair, Marc would clench Mickey in a bear hug and scissor-lock him with his legs. Mickey would flail frantically, head-butting his father and screaming like someone undergoing surgery without anesthesia. Customers gawked. One old man snarled, “Rotten spoiled brat.” Marc sweated through his shirt. When the barber declared he was done, I’d take Mickey into my arms. Sobbing and spent, he’d collapse against my shoulder, smearing us both with snot and hair. We tipped big. Very big. Unable to face a repeat performance, we’d let long months go between haircuts. Mickey’s great-uncle Jack liked to tease him. “You look like a girl, buddy!” he’d say. Some days when we’d walk by that barbershop on our way to the deli, I could swear that as soon as the barbers saw us passing, they’d quickly pull down the white shade that said “Closed for Lunch.” But today when we enter the barbershop Mickey sings out a cheery “Hi Dom!” as he plops into the chair. Dom drapes him in a maroon cape, and picks up a shaver. A screen splits in my head: I can still picture that terrified little boy, even as I watch my son, nearly a man, sitting solemnly watching his reflection in the mirror. I wait quietly, soaking in the sounds of barbershop banter, the sports talk, the sharing of summer plans. It is all so completely ordinary. A radio is tuned to a Lite FM station; the song playing is “Don’t Stop Believing ” by Journey. I reflect how anyone who’d seen my son all those years ago would never have believed that Mickey would one day request — insist — we take him for a haircut. Yet here we are. “How’s this ” Dom asks. I stand beside Mickey and glance down; the cape is feathered in a field of light brown hairs, as covered as a forest floor. “Let’s take it down a bit more,” I suggest. “Is that okay with you, Mick ” “Yeah, Mom,” he says. I remember how we used to sneak into his bedroom at night with a pair of shears to give him a trim as he slept. I think of the time he was five ... ...
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