以下是整理的《喬布斯教我為人子，為人父的那些事》，希望大家喜歡！
A couple of months ago, right after my first son wasborn, I thought about the lessons I wanted to pass along to him that I had learned a little latein life. Among the morals I scribbled down in my mind one that stood out began with a storyinvolving Steve Jobs and ended with the serving of my mother’s last meal.
幾個月前，我的第一個兒子出生時，我想著自己人生中各種遲遲才學(xué)到的經(jīng)驗教訓(xùn)，能夠傳授給他。在我銘記于心的種種道德準(zhǔn)則中，最突出的一條始于一個同史蒂夫·喬布斯(Steve Jobs)有關(guān)的故事，終結(jié)于我母親的最后一餐。
The Jobs portion of the story occurred on a late-October morning in 2010, when he was sittingwith a mutual friend in the restaurant of the Four Seasons hotel in San Francisco. The waitress,a shy woman who looked to be in her mid-30s, according to the friend, approached them andasked what they wanted for breakfast. Mr. Jobs said he wanted freshly squeezed orange juice.
喬布斯的故事發(fā)生在2010年10月底的一個清晨，當(dāng)時他和我們共同的一位朋友坐在舊金山四季酒店的餐廳里。侍者是個羞澀的女人，大約35歲左右，朋友說，她走過來問他們早餐要吃什么。喬布斯說想要鮮榨橙汁。
After a few minutes, the waitress returned with a large glass of juice. Mr. Jobs took a tiny sipand told her tersely that the drink was not freshly squeezed. He sent the beverage back,demanding another.
幾分鐘后，侍者拿來一大杯橙汁。喬布斯嘗了一小口，就簡短生硬地告訴她，這果汁不是鮮榨的。他退還了這杯飲料，要她換一杯。
A few minutes later, the waitress returned with another large glass of juice, this time freshlysqueezed. When he took a sip he told her in an aggressive tone that the drink had pulp alongthe top. He sent that one back, too.
幾分鐘后，女侍者又拿來一大杯果汁，這一次是鮮榨的了。他又嘗了一小口，用嚴(yán)厲的口吻告訴她，果汁里有果肉浮在最上面。他把這杯也退回去了。
My friend said he looked at Mr. Jobs and asked, “Steve, why are you being such a jerk?”
我的朋友說他看著喬布斯，問：“史蒂夫，你干嘛要這么混蛋。”
Mr. Jobs replied that if the woman had chosen waitressing as her vocation, “then she shouldbe the best.”
喬布斯回答說，如果那個女人選擇當(dāng)侍者作為自己的職業(yè)，“那么她就應(yīng)該做到?！?BR> Hearing this story, I was immediately put off by how Mr. Jobs had acted; he was being — toborrow from his breakfast companion — a jerk. But looking past his rudeness (Maybe he washaving a bad day?), I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind: No matter what you do for a living,should you do the best work possible?
聽了這個故事，我一下子就對喬布斯的所作所為產(chǎn)生了反感； 用與之共進早餐的朋友的話來說，他確實是個混蛋。但是如果除去他的粗魯（也許他那天正好心情不好？），我無法把這個念頭趕出腦海：不管你靠什么謀生，難道不應(yīng)該做到嗎？
Of course, this question breaks down a bit when a job is just a job; it’s not your vocation. Itcan be especially disheartening when you don’t believe that what you’re doing for a living isappreciated or that it is having very little impact on other people’s lives.
當(dāng)然，如果你的工作只是一份工作，而不是你的“職業(yè)”，這個問題就有點不成立了。當(dāng)你不相信自己謀生的工作受人欣賞，或者對其他人的生活有那么一丁點影響，這會讓人非常沮喪。
I get it. I was a waiter for many years. I was a line cook. I worked in the garment district inNew York City carrying spools of fabric between warehouses. I worked in a salon washingwomen’s hair. And I worked for a birthday-party camp, dressing up in one of those giant furrycharacter outfits (they stink inside) and doing magic tricks for kids who were not impressed bymy card skills.
我明白這種感覺。我曾經(jīng)當(dāng)過好多年的侍者。我還當(dāng)過流水線廚師。我曾經(jīng)在紐約市的服裝區(qū)工作，在一個個倉庫之間運送大匹大匹的面料。我曾經(jīng)在發(fā)廊里為女士們洗頭。我還曾經(jīng)在一個生日派對營工作，和其他人一起扮成巨大的毛絨玩具（那些衣服里面真的很臭），給孩子們變魔術(shù)，不過他們對我玩撲克的技巧不怎么欣賞。
And yet it wasn’t until my mother found out that she had terminal cancer in mid-March andwas given a prognosis of only two weeks to live that I learned even if a job is just a job, youcan still have a profound impact on someone else’s life. You just may not know it.
但是直到3月中，母親被診出癌癥晚期，只有兩個月生命的時候，我才明白，就算一份工作只是一份工作，你仍然可以對他人的生活產(chǎn)生深遠(yuǎn)的影響。你可能只是覺察不到而已。
My mother loved shrimp. She had no qualms about where her shrimp came from, if they werefresh or frozen, large or small. She would eat them in a grimy airport cafe or a five-starrestaurant. And when she was done with her crustaceans, she always beamed a big smile and,in her posh British accent, said, “Oh, that was just lovely.”
母親喜歡吃蝦。不管蝦來自哪里，不在乎它們是新鮮的還是冷凍的、大的還是小的。不管是在臟兮兮的機場餐廳抑或五飯店，她都要吃蝦。飽餐之后，她總是露出燦爛的笑容，用漂亮的英音說，“不錯不錯?！?BR> My mother was the one who taught me how to cook shrimp — and everything else. (When Iwas really young, I was allowed to lick the leftover chocolate cake icing out of the bowl when Ihelped in the kitchen.) So I jumped at the chance to become her personal chef for the last twoweeks of her life.
正是母親教會了我怎么做蝦——還有各種其他菜肴（小時候，如果我在廚房打下手，她就允許我舔去碗里剩下的巧克力蛋糕糖衣）。所以在她人生的最后兩星期里，我就抓住機會當(dāng)上了她的私人大廚。
When she asked for some vegetables to nibble on, I fastidiously julienned a cucumber into thinslices, layering them atop one another in a semicircle on a florid porcelain plate.
她想要吃可以慢慢嚼的青菜，我便一絲不茍地把一根黃瓜切得薄薄的，一片片列成半圓形，用華麗的瓷盤盛著。
When she asked for a pita and hummus, I cut the bread into perfect little triangles, foundelegant small bowls in her cupboards, and carefully quenelled three dipping options, as ifThomas Keller were watching over my shoulder.
她要吃皮塔餅和鷹嘴豆泥，我就把面包切成完美的三角形，從她的柜櫥找出精致的小碗，小心翼翼盛上三種蘸醬，就像托馬斯·凱勒（Thomas Keller，美國名廚——譯注）在身邊監(jiān)視。
I proudly took every meal to her on her finest china, placed carefully on an ornate tray andfinished off with a single English flower. I prepared every menu with meticulous detail, unsure ifthe meal I was taking to her bedside would be her last.
我滿心自豪地用她的瓷器盛放每一餐，用裝飾華麗的托盤精心盛放，還要在旁邊點綴一種英國花卉。每道菜我都一絲不茍地注重細(xì)節(jié)，因為不知道我為她準(zhǔn)備的哪頓飯會成為她的最后一餐。
As the days went by, her appetite started to wane, as did her mind. The meals she asked forgrew smaller and smaller. There were fewer slices of cucumber and one less dipping sauce. Thenshe stopped eating altogether, barely able to finish a cup of white tea.
隨著時間過去，她的飯量愈來愈小，神志也開始變得不清醒。她要的菜愈來愈少。盤子里的黃瓜片和蘸醬只有一點。最后她完全無法進食，連一杯白茶也喝不完。
We all knew the end was near.
我們都明白她大限將至。
Then one evening my mother became incredibly lucid and called for me. She was cravingshrimp, she said. “I’m on it,” I told her as I ran down to the kitchen. “Shrimp coming right up!”
一天晚上，母親突然異常清醒，把我叫到身邊，說她想吃蝦?！拔胰ヅ蔽疫呎f邊跑進廚房?！拔r馬上就來！”
The problem was, I didn’t have any. So I did what anyone in that situation would do: I called fortakeout. From my mother’s house in Leeds, England, the closest place was Sukhothai, a tinynondescript Thai restaurant a few miles away. My sister ordered, and we headed over in thecar as quickly as we could.
問題是，我根本就沒有蝦。所以我做了任何人在這種情況下都會做的事：打電話叫外賣。母親的家在英格蘭利茲，附近最近的餐館是幾英里外一家名不見經(jīng)傳的小小泰餐館，名叫素可泰(Sukhothai)。我的姊妹打電話點了單，我們飛快地沖進車子。
The restaurant was bustling. In the open kitchen in the back I could see a dozen men andwomen frantically slaving over the hot stoves and dishwashers, with busboys and waitersrushing in and out.
那家餐館里亂哄哄的。我看見后面的敞開式廚房里有十幾個男男女女在爐灶和洗碗機邊熱火朝天地賣命苦干，小工和侍者們不停進進出出。
While I stood waiting for my mother’s shrimp, I watched all these people toiling away and Ithought about what Mr. Jobs had said about the waitress from a few years earlier. Though hisrudeness may have been uncalled-for, there was something to be said for the idea that weshould do our best at whatever job we take on.
我站在那兒，等著給母親的蝦，看著這些人忙忙碌碌，突然想起幾年前喬布斯說過的關(guān)于侍者的那番話。盡管他的粗魯完全沒有必要，但“不管做什么工作都應(yīng)當(dāng)做到”這個理念確實有一定道理。
This should be the case, not because someone else expects it. Rather, as I want to teach myson, we should do it because our jobs, no matter how seemingly small, can have a profoundeffect on someone else’s life; we just don’t often get to see how we’re touching them.
事情理應(yīng)如此，并不是因為別人的期待。我想告訴兒子的是：這是因為我們的工作不管看上去多么渺小，都可能會對他人的生活產(chǎn)生深遠(yuǎn)的影響；我們只是無法經(jīng)常親眼目睹我們是以什么樣的方式觸動他們。
Certainly, the men and women who worked at that little Thai restaurant in northern Englanddidn’t know that when they went into work that evening, they would have the privilege ofcooking someone’s last meal.
是的，這些在英國北部的小小泰餐館里工作的男女們不知道，他們?nèi)绯９ぷ鞯倪@個晚上，將會有幸為某人烹制一生中的最后一餐。
It was a meal that I would unwrap from the takeout packaging in my mother’s kitchen, carefullyplucking four shrimp from the box and meticulously laying them out on one of her ornate chinaplates before taking it to her room. It was a meal that would end with my mother smiling for thelast time before slipping away from consciousness and, in her posh British accent, saying, “Oh,that was just lovely.”
就是這一餐：我在母親的廚房里打開外賣包裝，小心翼翼地從盒子里拿出四只大蝦，悉心放在一只精美的瓷盤里，拿進她的房間。就是這一餐，母親吃完，最后一次露出笑容，用她那漂亮的英音說，“不錯不錯”，然后慢慢陷入了長眠。
幾個月前，我的第一個兒子出生時，我想著自己人生中各種遲遲才學(xué)到的經(jīng)驗教訓(xùn)，能夠傳授給他。在我銘記于心的種種道德準(zhǔn)則中，最突出的一條始于一個同史蒂夫·喬布斯(Steve Jobs)有關(guān)的故事，終結(jié)于我母親的最后一餐。
The Jobs portion of the story occurred on a late-October morning in 2010, when he was sittingwith a mutual friend in the restaurant of the Four Seasons hotel in San Francisco. The waitress,a shy woman who looked to be in her mid-30s, according to the friend, approached them andasked what they wanted for breakfast. Mr. Jobs said he wanted freshly squeezed orange juice.
喬布斯的故事發(fā)生在2010年10月底的一個清晨，當(dāng)時他和我們共同的一位朋友坐在舊金山四季酒店的餐廳里。侍者是個羞澀的女人，大約35歲左右，朋友說，她走過來問他們早餐要吃什么。喬布斯說想要鮮榨橙汁。
After a few minutes, the waitress returned with a large glass of juice. Mr. Jobs took a tiny sipand told her tersely that the drink was not freshly squeezed. He sent the beverage back,demanding another.
幾分鐘后，侍者拿來一大杯橙汁。喬布斯嘗了一小口，就簡短生硬地告訴她，這果汁不是鮮榨的。他退還了這杯飲料，要她換一杯。
A few minutes later, the waitress returned with another large glass of juice, this time freshlysqueezed. When he took a sip he told her in an aggressive tone that the drink had pulp alongthe top. He sent that one back, too.
幾分鐘后，女侍者又拿來一大杯果汁，這一次是鮮榨的了。他又嘗了一小口，用嚴(yán)厲的口吻告訴她，果汁里有果肉浮在最上面。他把這杯也退回去了。
My friend said he looked at Mr. Jobs and asked, “Steve, why are you being such a jerk?”
我的朋友說他看著喬布斯，問：“史蒂夫，你干嘛要這么混蛋。”
Mr. Jobs replied that if the woman had chosen waitressing as her vocation, “then she shouldbe the best.”
喬布斯回答說，如果那個女人選擇當(dāng)侍者作為自己的職業(yè)，“那么她就應(yīng)該做到?！?BR> Hearing this story, I was immediately put off by how Mr. Jobs had acted; he was being — toborrow from his breakfast companion — a jerk. But looking past his rudeness (Maybe he washaving a bad day?), I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind: No matter what you do for a living,should you do the best work possible?
聽了這個故事，我一下子就對喬布斯的所作所為產(chǎn)生了反感； 用與之共進早餐的朋友的話來說，他確實是個混蛋。但是如果除去他的粗魯（也許他那天正好心情不好？），我無法把這個念頭趕出腦海：不管你靠什么謀生，難道不應(yīng)該做到嗎？
Of course, this question breaks down a bit when a job is just a job; it’s not your vocation. Itcan be especially disheartening when you don’t believe that what you’re doing for a living isappreciated or that it is having very little impact on other people’s lives.
當(dāng)然，如果你的工作只是一份工作，而不是你的“職業(yè)”，這個問題就有點不成立了。當(dāng)你不相信自己謀生的工作受人欣賞，或者對其他人的生活有那么一丁點影響，這會讓人非常沮喪。
I get it. I was a waiter for many years. I was a line cook. I worked in the garment district inNew York City carrying spools of fabric between warehouses. I worked in a salon washingwomen’s hair. And I worked for a birthday-party camp, dressing up in one of those giant furrycharacter outfits (they stink inside) and doing magic tricks for kids who were not impressed bymy card skills.
我明白這種感覺。我曾經(jīng)當(dāng)過好多年的侍者。我還當(dāng)過流水線廚師。我曾經(jīng)在紐約市的服裝區(qū)工作，在一個個倉庫之間運送大匹大匹的面料。我曾經(jīng)在發(fā)廊里為女士們洗頭。我還曾經(jīng)在一個生日派對營工作，和其他人一起扮成巨大的毛絨玩具（那些衣服里面真的很臭），給孩子們變魔術(shù)，不過他們對我玩撲克的技巧不怎么欣賞。
And yet it wasn’t until my mother found out that she had terminal cancer in mid-March andwas given a prognosis of only two weeks to live that I learned even if a job is just a job, youcan still have a profound impact on someone else’s life. You just may not know it.
但是直到3月中，母親被診出癌癥晚期，只有兩個月生命的時候，我才明白，就算一份工作只是一份工作，你仍然可以對他人的生活產(chǎn)生深遠(yuǎn)的影響。你可能只是覺察不到而已。
My mother loved shrimp. She had no qualms about where her shrimp came from, if they werefresh or frozen, large or small. She would eat them in a grimy airport cafe or a five-starrestaurant. And when she was done with her crustaceans, she always beamed a big smile and,in her posh British accent, said, “Oh, that was just lovely.”
母親喜歡吃蝦。不管蝦來自哪里，不在乎它們是新鮮的還是冷凍的、大的還是小的。不管是在臟兮兮的機場餐廳抑或五飯店，她都要吃蝦。飽餐之后，她總是露出燦爛的笑容，用漂亮的英音說，“不錯不錯?！?BR> My mother was the one who taught me how to cook shrimp — and everything else. (When Iwas really young, I was allowed to lick the leftover chocolate cake icing out of the bowl when Ihelped in the kitchen.) So I jumped at the chance to become her personal chef for the last twoweeks of her life.
正是母親教會了我怎么做蝦——還有各種其他菜肴（小時候，如果我在廚房打下手，她就允許我舔去碗里剩下的巧克力蛋糕糖衣）。所以在她人生的最后兩星期里，我就抓住機會當(dāng)上了她的私人大廚。
When she asked for some vegetables to nibble on, I fastidiously julienned a cucumber into thinslices, layering them atop one another in a semicircle on a florid porcelain plate.
她想要吃可以慢慢嚼的青菜，我便一絲不茍地把一根黃瓜切得薄薄的，一片片列成半圓形，用華麗的瓷盤盛著。
When she asked for a pita and hummus, I cut the bread into perfect little triangles, foundelegant small bowls in her cupboards, and carefully quenelled three dipping options, as ifThomas Keller were watching over my shoulder.
她要吃皮塔餅和鷹嘴豆泥，我就把面包切成完美的三角形，從她的柜櫥找出精致的小碗，小心翼翼盛上三種蘸醬，就像托馬斯·凱勒（Thomas Keller，美國名廚——譯注）在身邊監(jiān)視。
I proudly took every meal to her on her finest china, placed carefully on an ornate tray andfinished off with a single English flower. I prepared every menu with meticulous detail, unsure ifthe meal I was taking to her bedside would be her last.
我滿心自豪地用她的瓷器盛放每一餐，用裝飾華麗的托盤精心盛放，還要在旁邊點綴一種英國花卉。每道菜我都一絲不茍地注重細(xì)節(jié)，因為不知道我為她準(zhǔn)備的哪頓飯會成為她的最后一餐。
As the days went by, her appetite started to wane, as did her mind. The meals she asked forgrew smaller and smaller. There were fewer slices of cucumber and one less dipping sauce. Thenshe stopped eating altogether, barely able to finish a cup of white tea.
隨著時間過去，她的飯量愈來愈小，神志也開始變得不清醒。她要的菜愈來愈少。盤子里的黃瓜片和蘸醬只有一點。最后她完全無法進食，連一杯白茶也喝不完。
We all knew the end was near.
我們都明白她大限將至。
Then one evening my mother became incredibly lucid and called for me. She was cravingshrimp, she said. “I’m on it,” I told her as I ran down to the kitchen. “Shrimp coming right up!”
一天晚上，母親突然異常清醒，把我叫到身邊，說她想吃蝦?！拔胰ヅ蔽疫呎f邊跑進廚房?！拔r馬上就來！”
The problem was, I didn’t have any. So I did what anyone in that situation would do: I called fortakeout. From my mother’s house in Leeds, England, the closest place was Sukhothai, a tinynondescript Thai restaurant a few miles away. My sister ordered, and we headed over in thecar as quickly as we could.
問題是，我根本就沒有蝦。所以我做了任何人在這種情況下都會做的事：打電話叫外賣。母親的家在英格蘭利茲，附近最近的餐館是幾英里外一家名不見經(jīng)傳的小小泰餐館，名叫素可泰(Sukhothai)。我的姊妹打電話點了單，我們飛快地沖進車子。
The restaurant was bustling. In the open kitchen in the back I could see a dozen men andwomen frantically slaving over the hot stoves and dishwashers, with busboys and waitersrushing in and out.
那家餐館里亂哄哄的。我看見后面的敞開式廚房里有十幾個男男女女在爐灶和洗碗機邊熱火朝天地賣命苦干，小工和侍者們不停進進出出。
While I stood waiting for my mother’s shrimp, I watched all these people toiling away and Ithought about what Mr. Jobs had said about the waitress from a few years earlier. Though hisrudeness may have been uncalled-for, there was something to be said for the idea that weshould do our best at whatever job we take on.
我站在那兒，等著給母親的蝦，看著這些人忙忙碌碌，突然想起幾年前喬布斯說過的關(guān)于侍者的那番話。盡管他的粗魯完全沒有必要，但“不管做什么工作都應(yīng)當(dāng)做到”這個理念確實有一定道理。
This should be the case, not because someone else expects it. Rather, as I want to teach myson, we should do it because our jobs, no matter how seemingly small, can have a profoundeffect on someone else’s life; we just don’t often get to see how we’re touching them.
事情理應(yīng)如此，并不是因為別人的期待。我想告訴兒子的是：這是因為我們的工作不管看上去多么渺小，都可能會對他人的生活產(chǎn)生深遠(yuǎn)的影響；我們只是無法經(jīng)常親眼目睹我們是以什么樣的方式觸動他們。
Certainly, the men and women who worked at that little Thai restaurant in northern Englanddidn’t know that when they went into work that evening, they would have the privilege ofcooking someone’s last meal.
是的，這些在英國北部的小小泰餐館里工作的男女們不知道，他們?nèi)绯９ぷ鞯倪@個晚上，將會有幸為某人烹制一生中的最后一餐。
It was a meal that I would unwrap from the takeout packaging in my mother’s kitchen, carefullyplucking four shrimp from the box and meticulously laying them out on one of her ornate chinaplates before taking it to her room. It was a meal that would end with my mother smiling for thelast time before slipping away from consciousness and, in her posh British accent, saying, “Oh,that was just lovely.”
就是這一餐：我在母親的廚房里打開外賣包裝，小心翼翼地從盒子里拿出四只大蝦，悉心放在一只精美的瓷盤里，拿進她的房間。就是這一餐，母親吃完，最后一次露出笑容，用她那漂亮的英音說，“不錯不錯”，然后慢慢陷入了長眠。