English Original
Less than a year after my wife's funeral, I was confronted with the most terrible realities of being a widower with five children: the relentless stream of paperwork from school.
Field-trip permission slips, PTA election ballots, book order forms, sports sign-ups, medical forms, and innumerable progress reports—an onslaught courtesy of the educational bureaucracy. This "literature" had to be read, signed, or discarded, but dealt with daily.
One day, my eight-year-old daughter Rachel was helping me complete five emergency treatment forms. She filled in the generic information (name, address, phone), and I added the rest (insurance, doctor, signature). After signing, I checked for accuracy. That's when I noticed: in the slot beside "Mother's Business Phone," Rachel had written on every form: "1-800-HEAVEN."
中文翻译
妻子葬礼后不到一年，我，一个带着五个孩子的鳏夫，便直面了最残酷的现实：来自学校、永无止境的文书工作。
郊游许可单、家长教师协会选举选票、图书订购表、运动项目报名表、医疗表格，以及数不清的成绩报告单——教育系统官僚主义带来的文件洪流。这些“文献”必须阅读并签字，或是丢进废纸篓，但每天都得处理。
一天，我八岁的女儿雷切尔正在帮助我填写五份学校紧急治疗表格。她填写通用信息（姓名、地址、电话），我补充其余部分（保险号码、医生姓名、签名）。签完字后，我检查准确性。就在这时我注意到：在每一张表格“母亲工作电话”旁边的空白处，雷切尔都写下了：“1-800-天堂。”