Daffodil Principle
佚名 / Anonymous
Several times my daughter had telephoned to say， “Mother， you must come see the daffodils before they are over.” I wanted to go， but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. “I will come next Tuesday，” I promised， a little reluctantly， on her third call.
Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still， I had promised， and so drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren I said， “Forget the daffodils， Carolyn！ The road is invisible in the clouds and fog， and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch！”
My daughter smiled calmly， “We drive in this all the time， Mother.” “Well， you won’t get me back on the road until it clears—and then I’m heading for home！” I assured her， “I was hoping you’d take me over to the garage to pick up my car.”
“How far will we have to drive？” “Just a few blocks，” Carolyn said， “I’ll drive. I’m used to this.”
After several minutes I had to ask， “Where are we going？ This isn’t the way to the garage！” “We’re going to my garage the long way，” Carolyn smiled， “by way of the daffodils.” “Carolyn，” I said sternly， “please turn around.” “It’s all right， Mother. I promise you will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.” After about twenty minutes we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church.
On the far side of the church I saw a hand-lettered sign “Daffodil Garden”. We got out of the car and each took a child’s hand， and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then we turned a corner of the path， and I looked up and gasped.
Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic， swirling patterns， great ribbons and swaths of deep orange， white， lemon yellow， salmon pink， saffron， and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. Five acres of flowers！
“But who has done this？” I asked Carolyn. “It’s just one woman，” Carolyn answered， “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio we saw a poster：
“Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking” was the headline. The first answer was a simple one： “50，000 bulbs，” it read. The second answer was， “One bulb at a time， two hands， two feet， and very little brain.” The third answer was， “Began in 1958.” There it was. The Daffodil Principle. For me that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met， who， more than forty years before， had begun—one bulb at a time—to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top. Still， just planting one bulb at a time， year after year， had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived.
女儿给我打了几次电话说：“妈，在水仙花凋零前，您一定要过来看看。”我想去，但是从拉古纳开车到阿罗黑德湖要花两小时。“我下周二肯定去。”她第三次打电话来时，我有点不情愿地答应道。接下来的那个星期二上午很冷，还下着雨。但是我已经答应在先，所以还是去了。最终，当我走进卡罗琳的家，拥抱着问候外孙们时，我说：“忘了那些水仙花吧，卡罗琳！雾气笼罩着道路，能见度很低，要不是为了见你和孩子们，我是绝对不会开车来的。”
女儿平静地笑着说：“妈，我们总是在这样的天气里开车。”“反正你别想再把我拉到路上去，雨停了我就回家！”我想让她死心。“我想请你开车带我去修车店，把我的车子取回来。”
“要开多远？”“就几条街，”卡罗琳说，“我来开，我习惯在这种天气开车。”
几分钟后我忍不住问：“我们这是上哪儿去？去修车店不走这条路啊！”“我们去一个较远的修车店。”卡罗琳笑着说，“从水仙花旁经过。”“卡罗琳，”我严厉地说，“调头！”“好啦，妈妈。我敢保证，如果你错过了这次经历，会后悔一辈子。”大约20分钟后，我们拐到一条碎石铺成的路上，然后我看到了一座小教堂。
我看到教堂的另一边有一个手写的牌子：“水仙园”。我们下了车，每人牵着一个小孩，跟着卡罗琳，沿着小路前行。然后转了个弯，我抬头一看，不禁大吃一惊。
我眼前的景象是如此壮观，就像有人把一大桶金子泼在山顶和斜坡上。花儿呈壮观的涡流状，一条条像缎带似的，有深橙色、白色、柠檬黄、橙红色、金黄色和油黄色。每种不同的颜色都栽成一列，像一泓泓有着独特色调的河水在蜿蜒流动。
“这是谁的杰作啊？”我问卡罗琳。“一位女士，”卡罗琳说，“她以此为生，那就是她的家。”卡罗琳指着一栋修葺良好的A字型小木屋。在灿烂的花海中，它显得那么不起眼。我们走到屋前，看到天井里的一个布告：
标题是“我知道您想问什么，答案如下”。第一个答案很简单：“50，000株。”第二个答案是：“每次一株，两只手，两只脚，没什么天赋。”第三个答案是：“始于1958年。”这就是“水仙花法则”。对我而言，这是生命的一个转折时刻。我想象着这位我素未谋面的女士，40年前开始在这个无名小山上，每次一株地实现她关于美丽和欢乐的梦想。就这样每次一株，年复一年，最终改变了环境。这个不知名的女人永远地改变了她所处的环境。
1. My daughter calmly， “We drive in this all the time， Mother.”“Well， you won’t get me on the road until it clears—and then I’m heading for ！” I assured her， “I was hoping you’d take me over to the to pick up my car.”
2. On the far side of the I saw a hand-lettered sign“Daffodil Garden”.We got out of the car and each a child’s hand， and I followed Carolyn down the path. we turned a corner of the path， and I looked and gasped.
1. 大约20分钟后，我们拐到一条碎石铺成的路上，然后我看到了一座小教堂。
2. 我眼前的景象是如此壮观，就像有人把一大桶金子泼在山顶和斜坡上。
3. 我想象着这位我素未谋面的女士，40年前开始在这个无名小山上，每次一株地实现她关于美丽和欢乐的梦想。
1. Well， you won’t get me back on the road until it clears...
get back：回来；恢复；取回；重新上台
2. I was hoping you’d take me over to the garage to pick up my car.
pick up：捡起；获得；收拾