佚名/Anonymous
早在15世纪时，纽伦堡附近的一个小村庄里，有一个家庭有18个孩子。18个！为了解决这个大家庭的温饱，身为金匠的一家之主的父亲每天要工作近18个小时，而且，还得在邻居那找些杂活做。尽管他们的处境很困窘，但阿尔布雷希特？丢勒的两个儿子阿尔布雷希特和阿尔贝特，依然拥有梦想。他们都想继续发展自己的艺术才能，但也都清楚地意识到他们的父亲甚至不可能供他们中的任何一个去纽伦堡上美术学院。无数个夜晚，他们挤在床头彻夜长谈。最后，两兄弟终于达成一个协议——掷硬币，谁输了，谁就去附近的矿井，用挣来的钱供他的兄弟上美术学院。然后，等赢的那个完成四年的学业后，就支持另一个上学，可以用卖画的钱，或者，如有必要，还要当矿工。
一个星期天的早晨，做完礼拜后，他们掷了硬币。阿尔布雷希特？丢勒赢了，他去了纽伦堡。阿尔贝特则下到危险的矿井里，整整四年供他的兄弟上学。他的兄弟很快轰动了美术学院，阿尔布雷希特的蚀刻画、木版画和油画甚至远远超过了他的一些教授的水平。快要毕业时，他已经靠替人作画获得了一笔可观的收入。当这个年轻的画家回到故乡，丢勒一家在自家门口的草坪上，举办宴席以庆祝阿尔布雷希特衣锦还乡。难忘的宴席持续进行了很长时间，汇成了歌声和欢笑声的海洋。阿尔布雷希特从荣耀的座位上站起来，向他敬爱的兄弟敬酒，感谢他为自己作出的牺牲，使自己梦想成真。他最后说道：“现在，阿尔贝特，我可敬的兄弟，轮到你去上学了。你可以去纽伦堡追逐你的梦想了，我会照顾你的。”所有的人都迫切地转向远在桌角的阿尔贝特，他坐在那儿，眼泪滑过他苍白的面孔，他的头低垂着，不停地摇晃。他呜咽着一遍又一遍地说：“不……不……不……不。”
最终，阿尔贝特站起来，擦掉脸上的泪，扫视着长桌旁亲人们的面庞。然后，他举起手放到右脸颊旁，轻声说道：“不，兄弟，我不能去纽伦堡了，这对我来说，太晚了。在矿井的四年，看看我的手被折磨成什么样了！手上的每一根骨头至少折过一次。最近，我的右手患了严重的关节炎，我甚至都不能举起酒杯来回敬你，更别说拿笔或刷在纸上画细腻的线条了。不用了，兄弟，这对我太晚了。”450多年过去了，如今，全世界各大博物馆里都珍藏着阿尔布雷希特？丢勒成千上万的杰作。不过，你也许和大多数人一样，可能只熟悉他的一幅作品，也可能不仅是熟悉，你家里或办公室里也许就挂着这幅画的复制品。为了向阿尔贝特作出的牺牲表示敬意，阿尔布雷希特？丢勒将他兄弟饱经摧残的手指和掌心，细致入微地描绘了下来，干枯的手指伸向天空。他将这幅力作简单地命名为《手》，全世界很快为之轰动，人们将这爱的献礼重新命名为《祈祷之手》。下次看到这幅感人的画作的复制品时，你要多留心。如果需要，就让它时刻提醒你：没有人能单枪匹马取得成功！
Back in the Fifteenth Century，in a tiny village near Nuremberg，lived a family with eighteen children.Eighteen！In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob，the father and head of the household，a goldsmith by profession，worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.Despite their seemingly hopeless condition，two of Albrecht Durer the Elder’s children，Albrecht and Albert，had a dream.They both wanted to pursue their talent for art，but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the academy.After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed，the two boys finally worked out a pact.They would toss a coin.The loser would go down into the nearby mines and，with his earnings，support his brother while he attended the academy.
Then，when the brother who won the toss completed his studies，in four years，he would support the other brother at the academy，either with sales of his artwork or，if necessary，also by laboring in the mines.They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church.Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg.Albert went down into the dangerous mines and，for the next four years，financed his brother，whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation.Albrecht’s etchings，his woodcuts，and his oils were
far better than those of most of his professors，and by the time he graduated，he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
When the young artist returned to his village，the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht’s triumphant home-coming.After a long and memorable meal，punctuated with music and laughter，Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition.His closing words were，“And now，Albert，blessed brother of mine，now it is your turn.Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream，and I will take care of you.”All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat，tears streaming down his pale face，shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated over and over，“No...no...no...no.”Finally，Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks.He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved，and then，holding his hands close to his right cheek，he said softly，“No，brother.I cannot go to Nuremberg.It is too late for me.Look，what four years in the mines have done to my hands！The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once，and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast，much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush.
No，my brother...for me it is too late.”More than 450 years have passed.By now，Albrecht Durer’s hundreds of masterful portraits hang in every great museum in the world，but the odds are great that you，like most people，are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer’s works.More than merely being familiar with it，you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.To pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed，Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother’s abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward.He called his powerful drawing simply Hands，but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love The Praying Hands.The next time you see a copy of that touching creation，take a second look.Let it be your reminder，if you still need one，that no one—no one—ever makes it alone！