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第12部分（第2页）

通往广场的路不止一条。人生也是如此。如果一条道路无法到达你想去的地方，那就试试其他的路。

More　Than　One　Way　to　the　Square

Elsa　Schiaparelli

We　were　standing　at　the　top　of　a　church　tower。　My　father　had　brought　me　to　this　spot　in　a　small　Italian　town　not　far　from　our　home　in　Rome。　I　wondered　why。

“Look　down；　Elsa。”　Father　said。　I　gathered　all　my　courage　and　looked　down。　I　saw　the　square　in　the　center　of　the　village。　And　I　saw　the　crisscross　of　twisting；　turning　streets　leading　to　the　square。

“See；　my　dear；”　Father　said　gently。　“There　is　more　than　one　way　to　the　square。　Life　is　like　that。　If　you　can’t　get　to　the　place　where　you　want　to　go　by　one　road；　try　another。”

Now　I　understood　why　I　was　there。　Earlier　that　day　I　had　begged　my　mother　to　do　something　about　the　awful　lunches　that　were　served　at　school。　But　she　refused　because　she　could　not　believe　the　lunches　were　as　bad　as　I　said。

When　I　turned　to　Father　for　help；　he　would　not　interfere。　Instead；　he　brought　me　to　this　high　tower　to　give　me　a　lesson—the　value　of　an　open；　searching　mind。　By　the　time　we　reached　home；　I　had　a　plan。

At　school　the　next　day；　I　secretly　poured　my　luncheon　soup　into　a　bottle　and　brought　it　home。　Then　I　talked　the　cook　into　serving　it　to　Mother　at　dinner。　The　plan　worked　perfectly。　She　swallowed　one　spoonful　and　sputtered。　“The　cook　must　have　gone　mad！”　Quickly　I　told　what　I　had　done；　and　Mother　stated　firmly　that　she　would　take　up　the　matter　of　lunches　at　school　the　next　day！

In　the　years　that　followed　I　often　remembered　the　lesson　Father　taught　me。　I　knew　where　I　wanted　to　go　in　life。　I　wanted　to　be　a　fashion　designer。　And　on　the　way　to　my　first　small　success　I　found　the　road　blocked。　What　could　I　do？　Accept　the　roadblock　and　fail。　Or　use　imagination　and　wits　to　find　another　road　to　my　goal。

I　had　e　to　Paris；　the　center　of　the　world　of　fashion；　with　my　sketches。　But　none　of　the　famous　fashion　designers　seemed　interested　in　buying　them。　Then　one　day　I　met　a　friend　who　was　wearing　a　very　beautiful　sweater。　It　was　plain　in　color；　but　it　had　a　lovely　and　unusual　stitch。

通往广场的路不止一条（3）

“Did　you　knit　that　sweater？”　I　asked　her。

“No；”　she　answered。　“It　was　done　by　a　woman　here　in　Paris。”

“What　an　interesting　stitch！”I　continued。

My　friend　had　an　explanation。“The　woman—her　name　is　Mrs。　Vidian—told　me　she　learned　the　stitch　in　Armenia；　her　native　country。”

Suddenly　I　pictured　a　daring　design　knitted　into　such　a　sweater。　Then　an　even　more　daring　idea　came　to　me。　Why　not　open　my　own　house　of　fashion？　Why　not　design；　make　and　sell　clothes—from　the　house　of　Schiaparelli！I　would　do　it；　and　I　would　begin　with　a　sweater。

I　drew　a　bold　black　and　white　butterfly　pattern　and　took　it　to　Mrs。　Vidian。　She　knitted　it　into　a　sweater。　The　result；　I　thought；　was　wonderful。　Then　came　the　test。　I　wore　the　sweater　to　a　luncheon　which　people　in　the　fashion　business　would　attend。　To　my　great　pleasure；　the　sweater　was　noticed。　In　fact；　the　representative　of　a　large　New　York　store　wanted　40　sweaters　to　be　ready　in　two　weeks。　I　accepted　the　order　and　walked　out　on　a　cloud　of　happiness。

My　cloud　disappeared　suddenly；　however；　when　I　stood　in　front　of　Mrs。　Vidian。　“But　it　took　me　almost　a　week　to　knit　that　one　sweater；”　she　said。　“Forty　sweaters　in　two　weeks？　It　is　not　possible！”

I　was　crushed—to　be　so　close　to　success　and　then　to　be　blocked！Sadly　I　walked　away。　All　at　once　I　stopped　short。　There　must　be　another　way。　This　stitch　did　take　special　skill。　But　surely　there　must　be　other　Armenian　women　in　Paris　who　knew　how　to　do　it。

I　went　back　to　Mrs。　Vidian　and　explained　my　plan。　She　really　didn’t　think　it　would　work；　but　she　agreed　to　help。

We　were　like　detectives；　Mrs。　Vidian　and　I。　We　put　ourselves　on　the　trail　of　any　Armenians　who　lived　in　Paris。　One　friend　led　us　to　another。　At　last　we　tracked　down　20　women；　each　of　whom　could　knit　the　special　stitch。　Two　weeks　later　the　sweaters　were　finished。　And　the　first　shipment　from　the　new　house　of　Schiaparelli　was　on　its　way　to　the　United　States！

From　that　day　a　steady　stream　of　clothes　and　perfumes　flowed　from　the　house　of　Schiaparelli。　I　found　the　world　of　fashion　gay　and　exciting；　full　of　challenge　and　adventure。　I　shall　never　forget　one　showing　which　was　really　a　challenge。　Once　again　Father’s　advice　helped　me。　I　was　busy　getting　ready　to　show　my　winter　fashions。　Then—just　13　days　before　the　presentation—the　sewing　girls　were　called　out　on　strike。　I　found　myself　left　with　one　tailor　and　the　woman　who　was　in　charge　of　the　sewing　room！　I　was　as　gloomy　as　my　models　and　salesgirls。　“We’ll　never　make　it；”　one　of　them　cried。

Here；　I　thought；　is　the　test　of　all　tests　for　Father’s　advice。　Where　is　the　way　out　this　time？　I　wondered　and　worried。　I　was　certain　we　would　have　to　call　off　the　presentation—or　else　show　the　clothes　unfinished。　Then　it　dawned　on　me。　Why　not　show　the　clothes　unfinished？

We　worked　at　fever　pitch。　And；　exactly　13　days　later；　right　on　time；　the　Schiaparelli　showing　took　place。

What　a　showing　it　was！　Some　coats　had　no　sleeves；　others　had　only　one。　Many　of　our　clothes　were　still　in　an　early　stage。　They　were　only　patterns　made　of　heavy　cotton　cloth。　But　on　these　we　pinned　sketches　and　pieces　of　material。　In　this　way　we　were　able　to　show　what　colors　and　textures　the　clothes　would　have　when　they　were　finished。

All　in　all；　the　showing　was　different。　It　was　so　different　that　it　was　a　great　success。　Our　unusual　showing　caught　the　attention　of　the　public；　and　orders　for　the　clothes　poured　in。

Father’s　wise　words　had　guided　me　once　again。　There　is　more　than　one　way　to　the　square—always。

重新把握命运

玛格丽特？米德

过去，孩子们通常会玩这样的游戏——突然指着一个人说：“你是干什么的？”有些人会回答：“我是一个人。”或回答是哪国人，或是哪个宗教的信徒。当新一代的孩子这样问我时，我答道：“我是一个人类学家。”人类学是对人类所有生活方式的研究，需要一个人将全部的精力与时间都投入其中。所以，在谈论信仰时，我无法将自己作为一个人的信仰与作为一个人类学家的信仰区分开来。

我相信，把人类看作整个世界的一部分，对了解人类