少一点忧愁，多亲近自然　Less Grief, More Green

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.

～Kenji Miyazawa

As the new year dawned, I was at one of the lowest points of my life. In March, my beloved sister Sherry died.My dear friend Bob died in August.Even my sweet dog Molly died that November.In addition, my husband Alan's medical condition was getting progressively worse.Alan had a massive heart attack and cardiac arrest five years earlier that left him with a severe brain injury from lack of oxygen.The brain injury led to dementia and Parkinson's disease.Although Alan excelled at being his best self, he needed and deserved my love and care around the clock.

Living in this world of illness, grief, and loss left me wrung out physically, emotionally and spiritually. I knew I needed to replenish my energy and outlook even as I rode the tides of ongoing grief.

Nature has always been a source of healing, reflection, and rejuvenation for me. My favorite sanctuary is the Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University in Boston, a marvelous 265-acre living museum of trees from all over the world.Inside the Arboretum gates, visitors can explore meadows, hills, and miles of paths away from the city streets and rushing traffic.

One afternoon, I sat in a nook formed by the spreading roots of a copper beech tree. Protected by a generous mantle of boughs, I let my mind roam over the sorrows and happier occasions of the past year.After so much loss, I felt a need to give myself to the turning of seasons-the snow-covered dormancy of winter, followed by the unfolding of new life in spring.I wanted time away from the worry and constant, serious responsibility that every caregiver knows so well.I decided to find new ways to get involved with nature as one way of bringing a restorative balance to my life.As I walked home, my New Year's resolution took shape in my mind.My resolution became“Less grief, more green.”

“Less grief, more green”was my rallying motto and I looked for ways to put it in action. I joined the Arnold Arboretum training program for volunteer school field guides.The field guides provide outdoor learning experiences for Boston public school students in grades three to five.As a lifelong urban dweller, I welcomed the chance to introduce children to nature as a source of pleasure and curiosity for years to come.

In order to meet the volunteer commitment, I had to deepen my trust, take some risks and make some changes. Instead of being home with Alan all the time, I had to entrust more of his care to our dedicated and competent home health aide.This was a big transition, but Alan, a scientist and teacher, supported the idea as long as I brought home what I was learning to share with him.

Nancy, the program director, provided guides with several bountiful days of training. I dived into the spring curriculum on pollination.The thick notebook brimmed with information and diagrams about how flowers and tree flowers bud, bloom, and produce the seeds that assure that the species will continue.

While in training, I relished being a student again, instead of the expert I had to be to manage Alan's care. In the circle of guides, who ranged from college students and mothers to retired plant experts, illness was not a distraction or topic of conversation.Instead we asked each other，“Which azalea bushes have the most pollen this week?”and“How do I explain the male and female flower parts to fourth-grade boys without making them snicker?”

A morning spent dissecting daffodils under a microscope made me happier and more energetic than I'd felt in months. Back at home I set up a selection of flowers and fruits on the kitchen table and gave Alan a magnifying glass to identify the stamen, pistols, and ovules.He and Uche, our Nigerian aide, were enthusiastic students.“Demonstrations are the best part of science，”said Alan, a retired physics professor.

After weeks of training, it was time to guide. A field trip to the Arnold Arboretum gives students a day full of information, excitement, and surprises.When sixty third-graders piled off the yellow school bus for the“Flowers Change”class, we gathered into small groups in the lecture hall to look at buttercups with a hand lens and practice words for the parts.

The kids watched an old-fashioned movie reel about the life cycle of cherry blossoms. They loved the ending when the mother bird feeds her babies the ripe cherry fruit and we talk about how birds spread cherry seeds.

Then the students built a model flower, acting out the roles of the stamen, pistol, and petals. The child manning the bee puppet hammed it up as he buzzed in to gather pollen and deposit it firmly on the head of the student playing the sticky stigma.

Finally the teams of junior scientists swarmed the Arboretum armed with hand lenses, fuzzy black pipe cleaners to gather pollen, and the most important tools of all-their senses. As we moved from the spectacular Elizabeth magnolias to the tulip poplar trees and kat-sura dogwoods, the kids collected colorful specimens and drew the stages of a flower.I encouraged the students to stoke the ridged bark of an oak tree, sniff skunk cabbage, and pause to listen to bird song and spring peepers.On a super-good day they might meet Bertha, the ancient snapping turtle meandering to the pond to lay her eggs.

Throughout my first spring of practicing“Less grief, more green”，my senses came alive and expanded. My self-image tenderly bloomed beyond being a wounded caregiver to being a guide in my sanctuary.I moved beyond wonder and astonishment about nature to a better understanding.I learned about the workings of a child's mind along with the workings of trees and flowers.

Although I continued to grieve, those days spent under blue skies observing the cycles of life brought me joy and gave me a connection to the world beyond myself and my family.

I went on to be a proud and enthusiastic Arnold Arboretum field guide for four seasons. I still carry all that understanding and curiosity about what I don't know each time I'm out in nature.And I still look at a tulip through the eyes of a third-grader.

～Janet M.Cromer

我们要勇敢面对痛苦，并把它化作前进的动力。

——宫泽贤治

新年在即，我却处于人生的最低谷。三月份时，挚爱的姐姐雪莉去世了。八月份时，好朋友鲍勃离开人世。连最爱的狗狗莫里也在十一月份永远离我而去了。此外，丈夫艾伦的病情也每况愈下。五年前，艾伦心脏病发作，心肌间歇让他的大脑由于缺氧而严重受损。大脑损伤诱发了痴呆和帕金森（氏）病。虽然艾伦努力克服困难，但还是时刻离不开我的关爱和照顾。

生活在这样一个满是疾病、痛苦和失落的世界，让我身心俱疲，打不起一点精神。我知道即使再悲痛欲绝，也得振作精神、乐观向前。

大自然是治愈伤痛的良药，能让我反思，帮我恢复活力。我最喜欢的世外桃源就是位于波士顿的哈佛大学阿诺德植物园。植物园占地约265英亩23，仿佛是宏伟的树木博物馆。在这里，人们可以欣赏到全世界各种各样的树木。走进植物园大门，游览者能看见草地、山丘和绵延数公里的小径，远离城市街道以及拥堵的交通。

一天下午，我待在园中幽静的角落里，坐在一棵欧洲山毛榉蔓延开来的树根上。头顶处树荫蔽日，我回忆起这一年来的悲伤和欢乐。经历这么多失落和苦难，我觉得是时候改变生活的状态了——死寂的冬天来了，生机盎然的春天还会遥远吗？和每个照顾别人的人一样，我需要找到片刻的解脱，不去操心费神，放下无边的重荷。我想找到亲近自然的新方法，以此调剂生活，恢复自身活力。在我步行回家的路上，新年决心渐渐在脑中成形。这个决心就是：少一点忧愁，多亲近自然。

“少一点忧愁，多亲近自然”是帮助我恢复活力的箴言，我寻找各种方法付诸实践。我参加了阿诺德植物园志愿者培训项目，培训完后专门为学生做野外导游，负责给波士顿公立小学三到五年级的学生介绍大自然的知识。我常年都住在城里，我非常希望在未来几年给孩子介绍介绍大自然，既让孩子们从中获得快乐，又能满足他们的好奇心。

为了符合志愿者的要求，我必须学会信赖别人，敢于冒险，灵活调整。我无法经常和艾伦待在家里，所以必须信任做事认真、勤劳能干的家庭护理员，把大部分照顾艾伦的活都交给他。这是巨大的改变。艾伦是科学家，也是教师，他支持我的想法，不过要求我每次回家都告诉他学到了什么。

南希是志愿者项目的教导员，她培训了我们好几天，每天的内容都很充实。我全身心投入春季课程，内容是关于授粉的。我厚厚的笔记本记满了各种信息和图表，比如花或树木怎样抽芽、怎样开花、怎样结出种子以确保物种生息繁衍。

接受培训时，我不再是照顾艾伦起居的专家，而似乎回到了学生时代，心里美滋滋的。这些导游有大学生、有母亲，也有退休的植物专家，所以大家不会讨论疾病之类的话题，自然也不会因为这个而分心。我们会问对方：“这周哪一簇杜鹃花的花粉最多？”以及“我该怎么和四年级的小男孩介绍雄花和雌花的区别，才能不把他们逗乐？”

我一上午都在显微镜下解剖水仙花，这让我心情更加愉悦，全身上下也更有劲儿了，好几个月来都没感觉这么棒过。回到家后，我挑出了一些花朵和果实，放在厨房的桌子上，然后给艾伦拿一个放大镜，教他如何识别雄蕊、雌蕊和胚珠。他和乌切（来自尼日利亚的家庭护工）都对这些知识很感兴趣。“科学最精彩的部分就是实际演示。”艾伦说道。要知道，他可是退休的物理学教授。

几个星期的培训后，该正式上岗了。花一天时间来阿诺德植物园郊游，孩子们可以学到很多知识，而且肯定会惊喜连连。63名三年级学生走下黄色校车，聚在一起，准备来植物园学习“花的成长过程”。我们赶紧集合成小组，来到演讲厅，一边手拿放大镜仔细看着毛茛，一边排练解说词。

孩子先看了一部老式电影，内容是关于樱桃花从绽放到凋谢的整个过程。电影结束时，鸟妈妈把成熟的樱桃喂给小鸟。我们也告诉了他们鸟类是如何传播樱桃种子的。他们很喜欢这部电影的结尾。

接着，孩子开始做花朵的模型，动手做出雄蕊、雌蕊和花瓣。有一个孩子拿着蜜蜂模型，还有一个孩子扮演黏糊糊的柱头。拿蜜蜂模型的孩子演得很夸张，嗡嗡地模仿蜜蜂的叫声，起劲地从另一个孩子的头上采集花粉。

最后，这些“小小科学家”涌入植物园，手里拿着放大镜和黑色的毛绒烟斗通条。这些都不是最重要的工具，最重要的是他们都有敏锐的观察力。我们欣赏完美丽夺目的伊丽莎白木兰花后，就去观赏美国鹅掌楸和连香树。孩子们采集了五颜六色的标本，还画出了花开的过程。我鼓励孩子嚼一嚼凹凸不平的橡树皮，闻一闻臭菘的味道，停下脚步听一听悦耳的鸟鸣和春雨蛙的叫声。天气很好的时候，他们还能碰见贝莎。贝莎是一只古老的啮龟24，有时会爬到池塘边下蛋。

第一个春季，我很好地实践了“少一点忧愁，多亲近自然”的决心，又变得精力充沛。我也像一朵温婉绽放的花朵，从郁郁寡欢的“看护员”变成世外桃源的导游。如今我不再仅仅惊诧于大自然的神奇，而是更加了解大自然。我既学会了如何陶冶孩子们的情操，也学会了如何与花草树木打交道。

尽管我还是会忧愁，但是这些在蓝天白云下记录植物的生长历程的日子，不仅让我倍感欣喜，也使我与自己小家庭之外更广泛的世界建立了联系。

我兴致勃勃地在阿诺德植物园做了一年的学生导游。我为此感到很自豪。每当我和大自然亲密接触时，总是怀着对未知的理解和好奇。我也仍然喜欢透过三年级孩子的眼睛欣赏每一朵美丽的郁金香。

——珍妮特·M.克罗默