[原创]孩子：因为你的与众不同，所以我如此爱你！

沃得前言：

      
       相信很多人都有这样的经历——在我们小时候，总是被家长拿来和这个比，和那个比，而往往比的都是自己不擅长的。这简直就是童年的阴影，这就是我们的教育方式，批判永远大于鼓励，效果可想而知！还记得这样的话吗，你一定觉得很熟悉：
       “你看，张小明在学钢琴，已经考到五级了，你也要开始学了！”
       “瞧瞧人家李小明的国画都拿了国际大奖了，你也要学画画！”
       “不喜欢？没有你喜欢不喜欢，只要有用就都得学！你就会打游戏，那是浪费时间的没用东西！”
       在国内，很多孩子都是在父母这样的谆谆教导之下“茁壮成长”的，他们恨不得三头六臂，被迫要琴棋书画样样精通，而他们喜欢吗？父母不关心，老师不关心，到了最后，连孩子们自己也不关心了。
       无论喜欢不喜欢，父母都不会听孩子的意见。
       而孩子最恨听到的，就是别人家的孩子......什么都会！
       孩子们还没走进社会，就被迫被父母，老师，社会舆论贴上了标签，
       三好学生，数学天才，演艺小童星......
       而与之相对的，也有一些标签看起来并不怎么光彩，
       差生，留级生，小混混，弱智......
       这很大程度上就是中国父母的心理，总是拿别的孩子的长处来比自己孩子的短处，其实这对孩子而言并不公平，因为作为孩子自己，需要拿自己不擅长的东西，去PK 很多孩子最擅长的东西！一对多，这明显要是让孩子成为“超人”的节奏……而这个世界上有超人吗？
       造物主创造的每一个孩子都是美好而又与众不同的，不要用别人的成就来束缚自己的孩子，请帮他们找到自己的优秀出色，请爱他们的Special！
       Shawn是个优秀的、年轻的小朋友，可他已经是我们的老朋友了！在沃得天下的媒体平台上，我们能经常看到Shawn的文章，和我们分享很多有趣的事情。今天Shawn和我们分享的是什么呢？我一起来看看吧！
      
       (This  story  helps  children  and  adults  realize  they  shouldn't  automatically accept other people's negative comments and assessments of them. Do your best  and  be  proud  of  yourself.  In  the  entire  world,  there  has  never  been  another person like you. You are rare. – Ralph Courtney, Executive Director)                                            
       by Max Lucado
       The  Wemmicks  were  small  wooden  people.  Each  of  the  wooden  people  was  carved  by  a  woodworker named Eli. His workshop sat on a hill overlooking their village. Every Wemmick  was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short.  Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the  village.  And  all  day,  every  day,  the  Wemmicks  did  the  same  thing:  They  gave  each  other  stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of gray dot stickers. Up and  down  the  streets  all  over  the  city,  people  could  be  seen  sticking  stars  or  dots  on  one  another.    The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got stars. But if the wood was  rough  or  the  paint  chipped,  the  Wemmicks  gave  dots.  The  talented  ones  got  stars,  too.  Some  could lift big sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others knew big words  or could sing very pretty songs. Everyone gave them stars.   Some Wemmicks had stars all over them! Every time they got a star it made them feel so good  that they did something else and got another star. Others, though, could do little. They got dots.   Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. And when  he fell, the others would gather around and give him dots.   Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his wood, so the people would give him more dots. He  would try to explain why he fell and say something silly, and the Wemmicks would give him  more dots. After a while he had so many dots that he didn't want to go outside. He was afraid he  would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give  him  another dot. In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and give  him one without reason. "He deserves lots of dots," the wooden people  would agree with one  another. "He's not a good wooden person."   After a while Punchinello believed  them. "I'm not a good Wemmick," he would say. The few  times he went outside, he hung  around other Wemmicks who had a lot of dots. He felt better  around them.   One day he met a Wemmick who was unlike any he'd ever met. She had no dots or stars. She  was just wooden. Her name was Lucia. It wasn't that people didn't try to give her stickers; it's just  that the stickers didn't stick. Some admired Lucia for having no dots, so they would run up and  give her a star. But it would fall off. Some would look down on her for having no stars, so they  would  give  her  a  dot.  But  it  wouldn't  stay  either.  “That's  the  way  I  want  to  be,”  thought  Punchinello. “I don't want anyone's marks.”  So he asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did  it.  
      
       "It's easy," Lucia replied. "Every day I go see Eli."   "Eli?"   "Yes, Eli. The woodcarver. I sit in the workshop with him."   "Why?"  "Why don't you find out for yourself? Go up the hill. He's there."   And with that the Wemmick with no marks turned and skipped away. "But he won't want to see  me!" Punchinello cried out. Lucia didn't hear. So Punchinello went home. He sat near a window  and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other stars and dots. "It's not  right," he muttered to himself. And he resolved to go see Eli. He walked up the narrow path to  the  top  of  the  hill  and  stepped  into  the  big  shop.  His  wooden  eyes  widened  at  the  size  of  everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tiptoes to see the top of the  workbench.  A  hammer  was  as  long  as  his  arm.  Punchinello  swallowed  hard.  "I'm  not  staying  here!" and he turned to leave. Then he heard his name.   "Punchinello?" The voice was deep and strong. Punchinello stopped. "Punchinello! How good to  see you. Come and let me have a look at you."   Punchinello  turned slowly and looked at the large bearded craftsman. "You know my name?"  the little Wemmick asked.   "Of course I do. I made you." Eli stooped down and picked him up and set him on the bench.  "Hmm," the maker spoke thoughtfully as he inspected the gray  circles. "Looks like you've been  given some bad marks."   "I didn't mean to, Eli. I really tried hard."  "Oh,  you  don't  have  to  defend  yourself  to  me,  child.  I  don't  care  what  the  other  Wemmicks  think."  "You don't?"   “No, and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots?  They're Wemmicks just like  you. What they think doesn't matter, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think  you are pretty special."  Punchinello  laughed.  "Me,  special? Why?  I  can't  walk  fast.  I  can't  jump.  My  paint  is  peeling.  Why do I matter to you?"   Eli  looked  at  Punchinello,  put  his  hands  on  those  small  wooden  shoulders,  and  spoke  very  slowly. "Because you're mine. That's why you matter to me."  
      
       Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this  -  much less his maker. He didn't know  what to say.  "Every day I've been hoping you'd come," Eli explained.  "I came because I met someone who had no marks."  "I know. She told me about you."  "Why don't the stickers stay on her?"  "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers  only stick if you let them."   "What?"  "The  stickers  only  stick  if  they  matter  to  you.  The  more  you  trust  my  love,  the  less  you  care  about the stickers."  "I'm not sure I understand."  "You will, but it will take time. You've got a lot of marks. For now, just come to see me every  day and let me remind you how much I care." Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on  the  ground.  "Remember,"  Eli  said  as  the  Wemmick  walked  out  the  door.  "You  are  special  because I made you. And I don't make mistakes."   Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, "I think he really means it."  And when he  did, a dot fell to the ground.                                                                                                     
      

       May all your dots fall silently to the ground, for if given by man, they matter only to other men.  When given the choice, pass out stars, drop the dots in the trash.