English Original
It was a cold night in Washington, D.C., and I was heading back to the hotel when a man approached me. He asked if I would give him some money so he could get something to eat. I'd read the signs: "Don't give money to panhandlers." So I shook my head and kept walking.
I wasn't prepared for a reply, but with resignation, he said, "I really am homeless and I really am hungry! You can come with me and watch me eat!" But I kept on walking.
The incident bothered me for the rest of the week. I had money in my pocket and it wouldn't have killed me to hand over a buck or two even if he had been lying. On a frigid night, no less, I assumed the worst of a fellow human being.
Flying back to Anchorage, I couldn't help thinking of him. I tried to rationalize my failure to help by assuming government agencies, churches and charities were there to feed him. Besides, you're not supposed to give money to panhandlers.
Somewhere over Seattle, I started to write my weekly garden column for The Anchorage Daily News. Out of the blue, I came up with an idea. Bean's Cafe, the soup kitchen in Anchorage, feeds hundreds of hungry Alaskans every day. Why not try to get all my readers to plant one row in their gardens dedicated to Bean's? Dedicate a row and take it down to Bean's. Clean and simple.
We didn't keep records back then, but the idea began to take off. Folks would contact me when they took something in. Those who only grew flowers donated them. Food for the spirit. And salve for my conscience.
In 1995, the Garden Writers Association of America held their annual convention in Anchorage. After learning of Anchorage's program, "Plant a Row for Bean's" became "Plant a Row For The Hungry." The original idea was to have every member write or talk about planting a row for the hungry sometime during April.
As more people started working with the concept, new variations emerged. Many companies gave free seeds to customers and displayed the logo, which also appeared in national gardening publications. Row markers with the logo were distributed to gardeners to set apart their "Row for the Hungry."
Garden editor Joan Jackson, backed by The San Jose Mercury News and California's nearly year-round growing season, raised more than 30,000 pounds of fruits and vegetables her first year, showing how the program could really work. Texas fruit farms donated food to their local food bank after being inspired by Plant a Row. Today the program continues to thrive and grow.
I am stunned that millions of Americans are threatened by hunger. If every gardener in America — and we're seventy million strong — plants one row for the hungry, we can make quite a dent in the number of neighbors who don't have enough to eat. Maybe then I will stop feeling guilty about abandoning a hungry man I could have helped.
中文翻译
华盛顿特区一个寒冷的夜晚，我正返回酒店，一名男子向我走来。他问我能否给他一些钱买点吃的。我曾看过告示：“不要给乞丐钱。”于是我摇摇头，继续往前走。
我没料到他会回应，但他带着无奈说道：“我真的无家可归，真的饿了！你可以跟我一起去，看着我吃！”但我还是走开了。
这件事困扰了我整整一周。我口袋里有零钱，即使他在撒谎，给他一两块钱也没什么大不了的。在一个如此寒冷的夜晚，我却以最坏的恶意揣测了一个同胞。
飞回安克雷奇的途中，我忍不住想起他。我试图为自己的冷漠开脱，心想政府机构、教堂和慈善组织会给他提供食物。而且，人们本就不该给乞丐钱。
飞机飞越西雅图上空时，我开始为《安克雷奇每日新闻》撰写每周的园艺专栏。一个念头突然闪现。安克雷奇的施粥所“豆子咖啡馆”每天为数百名饥饿的阿拉斯加人提供食物。何不号召我的所有读者在自家花园里专门为“豆子咖啡馆”种一行菜呢？种一行，然后送去。简单明了。
起初我们没有记录，但这个想法开始传播开来。人们送去东西时会联系我。那些只种花的人也捐出了鲜花。这是精神的食粮，也抚慰了我的良心。
1995年，美国园艺作家协会在安克雷奇举行年会。了解到安克雷奇的项目后，“为豆子咖啡馆种一行菜”演变为“为饥饿者种一行菜”。最初的设想是让协会的每位成员在四月的某个时候，撰写或谈论为饥饿者种一行菜。
随着越来越多的人参与进来，新的形式不断涌现。许多公司向顾客免费提供种子并展示活动标识，该标识也出现在全国性的园艺出版物上。带有标识的“行标”被分发给园丁们，用以标记他们的“为饥饿者种的一行”。
园艺编辑琼·杰克逊在《圣何塞水星报》的支持下，凭借加州近乎全年的生长季节，第一年就收获了超过三万磅的水果和蔬菜，向协会展示了这个项目如何真正发挥作用。德克萨斯州的水果农场受此启发，也向当地食物银行捐赠了食物。如今，这个项目仍在蓬勃发展。
数百万美国人面临饥饿威胁，这令我震惊。如果美国的每一位园丁——我们有七千万之众——都为饥饿者种一行菜，我们就能显著减少食不果腹的邻居数量。也许到那时，我才能不再为当初拒绝帮助那个饥饿的人而感到内疚。