“I want to make you a promise. I will be a friend，”I said，“I will treat you as you deserve to be treated，with respect and kindness. You deserve that，”I said，“Everybody does.”I slipped out of the chair and closed the door behind me.
Jack avoided me the rest of the week. Proposals，specs，and letters appeared on my desk while I was at lunch，and the corrected versions were not seen again. I brought cookies to the office one day and left a batch on Jack’s desk. Another day I left a note.“Hope your day is going great，”it read.
Over the next few weeks，Jack reappeared. He was reserved，but there were no other episodes. Co-workers cornered me in the break room.
“Guess you got to Jack，”they said，“you must have told him off good.”I shook my head.“Jack and I are becoming friends，”I said in faith. I refused to talk about him. Every time I saw Jack in the hall，I smiled at him. After all，that’s what friends do.
One year after our“talk”，I discovered I had breast cancer. I was 32，the mother of three beautiful young children，and scared. The cancer had metastasized to my lymph nodes and the statistics were not great for long-term survival. After surgery，I visited friends and loved ones who tried to find the right words to say. No one knew what to say. Many said the wrong things. Others wept，and I tried to encourage them. I clung to hope.
The last day of my hospital stay，the door darkened and Jack stood awkwardly on the threshold. I waved him in with a smile and he walked over to my bed and，without a word，placed a bundle beside me. Inside lay several bulbs.
“Tulips，”he said.
I smiled，not understanding.
He cleared his throat.“If you plant them when you get home，they’ll come up next spring.”He shuffled his feet.“I just wanted you to know that I think you’ll be there to see them when they come up.”
Tears clouded my eyes and I reached out my hand.
“Thank you，”I whispered.
Jack grasped my hand and gruffly replied，“You’re welcome. You can’t see it now，but next spring you’ll see the colors I picked out for you.”He turned and left without a word.
I have seen those red and white striped tulips push through the soil every spring for over ten years now. In fact，this September the doctor will declare me cured. I’ve seen my children graduate from high school and enter college.
In a moment when I prayed for just the right word，a man with very few words said all the right things.
After all，that’s what friends do.
朋友间就该这么做
艾略特
杰克把文件扔到我桌上，皱着眉头，气愤地瞪着我。
“怎么了？”我问道。
他狠狠地指着计划书说：“下次做什么改动前，先征求一下我的意见。”然后转身走了，留下我一个人在那里生闷气。
他怎能这样对我！我想，我只是改了一个长句，更正了语法错误，但这都是我的分内之事。
其实也有人提醒过我，我的上一任就曾大骂过他。我第一天上班时，就有同事把我拉到一旁小声说：“他已经辞掉两个秘书了。”
几周后，我逐渐对杰克有些鄙视了，而这又有悖于我的信条——有人打你的左脸，你要把右脸也伸过去，要爱自己的敌人。但无论怎么做，总会挨杰克的骂。说真的，我很想灭灭他嚣张的气焰，而不是去爱他。我还为此默默祈祷过。
一天，因为一件事，我又被他气哭了。我冲进他的办公室，准备在被炒鱿鱼前让他知道我的感受。我推开门，杰克抬头看了我一眼。
“有事吗？”他突然说道。
我猛地意识到该怎么做了。毕竟，他罪有应得。
我在他对面坐下，“杰克，你对待我的方式有很大的问题。没人对我说过那样的话。作为一个职业人士，你这么做是不对的，我不该容忍这样的事情持续存在。”
杰克不安地笑了笑，向后靠了靠。我闭了一下眼睛，祈祷着，希望上帝能帮帮我。
“我保证自己可以成为你的朋友。我会尊敬你，礼貌地对待你，这是我应做的。每个人都应得到这样的礼遇。”我说完后，就起身离开了。
那个星期余下的几天，杰克一直躲着我。他总趁我吃午饭时，把计划书、技术说明和信件放在我桌上，并且，我修改过的文件不再被打回了。一天，我买了些饼干去办公室，顺便在杰克桌上留了一包。第二天，我又留了一张字条，写道：“祝你今天一切顺利。”
接下来的几个星期，杰克不再躲避我了，但沉默了许多，办公室里也没再发生不愉快的事情。于是，同事们在休息室把我团团围了起来。
“听说杰克被你镇住了，”他们说，“你肯定大骂了他一顿。”我摇了摇头，一字一顿地说：“我们会成为朋友。”我没有和人们说太多别的话。每次在大厅看见他时，我总冲他微笑。毕竟，朋友就该这样。
一年后，我32岁，是3个漂亮孩子的母亲。但我被确诊为乳腺癌，这让我极端恐惧。癌细胞已经扩散到我的淋巴腺。根据临床数值来看，我时日不多了。手术后，我拜访了亲朋好友，他们都尽力宽慰我，可不知道说什么好，有些人反而说错话了，另外一些人则为我难过，还得我去安慰他们。我始终没有放弃希望。
就在我出院的前一天，门外有个人影，是杰克，他尴尬地站在门口。我微笑着招呼他进来，他走到我床边，默默地把一包东西放在我旁边，那里边是几个球茎。
“这是郁金香。”他说。
我笑着，不明白他的用意。
他清了清嗓子，“回家后把它们种下，到明年春天就长出来了。”他挪了挪脚，“我希望你知道，你一定看得到它们发芽开花。”
我泪眼朦胧地伸出手。
“谢谢你。”我低声说。
杰克抓住我的手，生硬地说：“不必客气。到明年长出来后，你就能看到我为你挑的是什么颜色的郁金香了。”而后，他没说一句话便转身离开了。
转眼间，十多年过去了，每年春天，我都会看着这些红白相间的郁金香破土而出。事实上，到今年九月，医生就会宣布我已痊愈了。我的孩子们也都高中毕业，进入了大学。
在那绝望的时刻，我祈求他人的安慰，而这个男人仅用寥寥数语，却情真意切，温暖着我脆弱的心。
毕竟，朋友之间就该这么做。
实战提升篇
核心单词
propose [prE5pEuz] v. 提议，建议，提出
despise [dis5paiz] v. 鄙视；看不起
professional [prE5feFEnl] adj. 职业(上)的；从事特定专业
correct [kE5rekt] adj. 正确的，对的
statistics [stE5tistiks] n
