生命中最爱的圣诞
It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn’t been enough money to buy me the rifle that I’d wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read the Bible.
But Pa didn’t get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn’t figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn’t worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity. Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. “Come on, Matt,” he said. “Bundle up good, it’s cold out tonight.” I was really upset then. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one’s feet when he’d told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn’t know what.
Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn’t happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. “I think we’ll put on the high sideboards,” he said. “Here, help me.”
After we had put on the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood -- the wood I’d spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing﹖ Finally I said something. “Pa,” I asked, “what are you doing﹖” “You been by the Widow Jensen’s lately?”he asked.
The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I’d been by, but so what﹖ “Yeah,” I said, “Why﹖” “I rode by just today,” Pa said. “Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They’re out of wood, Matt.”
Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait.
When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. “What’s in the little sack﹖” I asked. “Shoes. They’re out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without a little candy.”
Really, why was he doing any of this﹖ Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us, it shouldn’t have been our concern. We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said: “Who is it﹖”
“Lucas Miles, Ma’am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?”
Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. “We brought you a few things, Ma’am,” Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it.
She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children -- sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn’t come out. “We brought a load of wood too, Ma’am,” Pa said. He turned to me and said: “Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let’s get that fire up to size and heat this place up.” wasn’t the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn’t speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I’d never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn’t crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. “God bless you,” she said. “I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us.”
Tears were running down Widow Jensen’s face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn’t want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.
Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn’t even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, “Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn’t have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand.” I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen’s face and the radiant smiles of her three children.
For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.
1881年的平安夜,我15岁,觉得自己的整个世界都塌陷了,因为家里没有钱给我买那支步枪作为圣诞礼物，出于某种原因,那天傍晚,我们很早就做完了家务;我只是认为爸爸想多点时间给我们一起读《圣经》。
但爸爸并没有拿《圣经》,而是再次穿戴严实,出门去了;我简直弄不明白,我们已经做完了所有的家务;而我没有心思去管这个,因为我正沉溺在过度的自怜里面。
很快,爸爸回来了;那是个清冷的夜,爸爸的胡子上沾满了雪;“快点,马特,”他叫道;“穿暖和点,今晚外面很冷;”我真的很心烦意乱;但我知道爸爸叫人做什么的时候,对磨磨蹭蹭的人不是很有耐性,于是我站起来,穿回靴子;戴上帽子;穿上外套,并戴好手套;当我打开门出门时,妈妈冲我神秘地笑了笑。一定有什么事,但我不知道那是什么。
到屋外,我变得更沮丧了。房子前是一队雪橇犬,已经拴好在大雪橇上了;爸爸已经坐好了,手里拉着缰绳;我不情愿地爬上去,挨着他坐;寒风刺骨,我很不高兴;我坐好后,爸爸驾着雪橇,绕过房子,停在柴棚前。他下了车,我也紧随其后。“我觉得我们该装上高的侧板,”他说道;“来,帮帮我。”
我们装完侧板后,爸爸走进柴棚,怀抱着木柴走了出来——那些木柴是我花了整个夏季从山里弄出来,整个秋天一块块锯出来;劈出来的;他在干嘛?最后,我说话了;“爸,”我问道,“你在做什么?”他反问道:“你最近有路过詹森寡妇家吗?”
寡妇詹森住在沿路两英里之外。她的丈夫约1年前去世了,留下了她和3个孩子,最大的才8岁;当然,我是有路过,但那又怎样呢?“是的,”我说,“怎么了?”爸爸说:“我今天刚坐雪橇经过,小杰基在外面的柴堆坪下面挖找碎木片,他们没有木柴了,马特。”
最终,爸爸停止了我们的搬运,然后,我们走进熏烤室,爸爸拿下一大块火腿和一块咸肉递给我,让我拿到雪橇上等着;
当他回来时,右肩上扛着一袋面粉,左手还拎着一小袋东西;“小袋子里是什么?”我问道;“鞋;他们已经没鞋可穿了;小杰基今早在外面的柴堆坪,只用粗麻布袋裹着自己的双脚;我还给孩子们带了点糖果;没有糖果,怎么算圣诞节呢?”
说真的,他为什么要做这些?詹森寡妇有比我们离得更近的邻居,这本不该是我们关心的;我们从詹森屋子背面走近,尽可能轻地卸下木材,然后我们拿着肉;面粉和鞋走到门口;敲门;门开了一条缝,一个怯怯的声音问道:“是谁呀?”“卢卡斯·迈尔斯,夫人,和我儿子,马特;我们能进来呆会儿吗?”
寡妇詹森开门让我们进来;她用毯子裹着自己的双肩。孩子们则裹着另一条毯子,围坐在壁炉前,里面的火苗已经小得没什么热气了;寡妇詹森最终摸索到一根火柴点着了灯。“夫人,我们给您带了些东西,”爸爸边说,边放下那袋面粉。我把肉放在桌上，然后爸爸亲手把装着鞋的袋子递给她。
她犹豫地打开,一双一双地拿出鞋子。有一双是给她的,孩子们也是一人一双——很结实的鞋子,最经穿的那种。我盯着她的一举一动;她紧咬着颤抖的下唇,泪水溢满双眼,顺着脸颊不断流下。她看着爸爸,欲言又止。“我们还带来了一堆木材,夫人,”爸爸说道。他转身对我说:“马特,去拿些够烧一会儿的木柴进来;让我们把火烧得旺点,让房子暖和点。”当我再到屋外取木材时,我已不是之前的我了。我喉咙哽咽,满眼泪水,尽管自己讨厌这样。我的脑袋里满是那3个孩子相拥在壁炉前的情景,他们的妈妈站在那儿,泪流满面,无限感激,却一句话也说不出来。我心潮澎湃,从未有过的快乐溢满整个身心。之前的圣诞节,我也曾多次给予,但从未像这次这般“雪中送炭”。
詹森寡妇显露出该是久违的笑容。终于她转向我们道:“愿上帝保佑你们;我知道是上帝派你们来的;我和孩子们都在祈祷他能派出一位天使来免除我们的苦难。”
当我们起身离去时,泪水再次滑落詹森寡妇的脸颊。爸爸依次把每个孩子抱进他宽大的怀中。他们对父亲依依不舍,不愿我们离去;我能看出他们想念自己的爸爸,我也很庆幸我的爸爸还在。
在户外的雪橇上,我感到一股暖流从心底涌出,丝毫不觉寒冷。走到半路,爸爸转过头对我说道:“马特,有件事我想让你知道;我和你妈妈一年来东拼西凑攒了点钱给你买那支步枪,但钱并不够，昨天一个欠我们一点钱多年的人的到来使事情得以圆满，我和你妈妈真是高兴,想着现在我们可以给你买步枪了,而且今早我就动身进城了，但路上,我看见小杰基脚裹粗麻布袋在柴堆坪里挑着拣着,我知道该做什么了，儿子,我拿钱买了鞋和糖果给孩子们;我希望你能够理解。”我理解,我的眼睛又湿润了。我非常理解,而且很高兴爸爸这么做了。现在步枪似乎不那么重要了,爸爸给了我多得多的东西。他给了我詹森寡妇那感激的表情和她3个孩子脸上灿烂的笑容，在我以后的岁月里,每当我看到詹森家的任何人,或劈木材时,我会记得,会回忆起那晚和爸爸驾雪橇回家时感受到的那种快乐。那晚爸爸给了我比步枪更好的东西,他给了我生命中最好的圣诞节。