My Most Favourite Christmas Ever

生命中最愛的聖誕

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歲,覺得自己的整個世界都塌陷了,因為家裏沒有錢給我買那支步槍作為聖誕禮物，出於某種原因,那天傍晚,我們很早就做完了家務;我隻是認為爸爸想多點時間給我們一起讀《聖經》。

但爸爸並沒有拿《聖經》,而是再次穿戴嚴實,出門去了;我簡直弄不明白,我們已經做完了所有的家務;而我沒有心思去管這個,因為我正沉溺在過度的自憐裏麵。

很快,爸爸回來了;那是個清冷的夜,爸爸的胡子上沾滿了雪;“快點,馬特,”他叫道;“穿暖和點,今晚外麵很冷;”我真的很心煩意亂;但我知道爸爸叫人做什麽的時候,對磨磨蹭蹭的人不是很有耐性,於是我站起來,穿回靴子;戴上帽子;穿上外套,並戴好手套;當我打開門出門時,媽媽衝我神秘地笑了笑。一定有什麽事,但我不知道那是什麽。

到屋外,我變得更沮喪了。房子前是一隊雪橇犬,已經拴好在大雪橇上了;爸爸已經坐好了,手裏拉著韁繩;我不情願地爬上去,挨著他坐;寒風刺骨,我很不高興;我坐好後,爸爸駕著雪橇,繞過房子,停在柴棚前。他下了車,我也緊隨其後。“我覺得我們該裝上高的側板,”他說道;“來,幫幫我。”

我們裝完側板後,爸爸走進柴棚,懷抱著木柴走了出來——那些木柴是我花了整個夏季從山裏弄出來,整個秋天一塊塊鋸出來;劈出來的;他在幹嘛?最後,我說話了;“爸,”我問道,“你在做什麽?”他反問道:“你最近有路過詹森寡婦家嗎?”

寡婦詹森住在沿路兩英裏之外。她的丈夫約1年前去世了,留下了她和3個孩子,最大的才8歲;當然,我是有路過,但那又怎樣呢?“是的,”我說,“怎麽了?”爸爸說:“我今天剛坐雪橇經過,小傑基在外麵的柴堆坪下麵挖找碎木片,他們沒有木柴了,馬特。”

最終,爸爸停止了我們的搬運,然後,我們走進熏烤室,爸爸拿下一大塊火腿和一塊鹹肉遞給我,讓我拿到雪橇上等著;

當他回來時,右肩上扛著一袋麵粉,左手還拎著一小袋東西;“小袋子裏是什麽?”我問道;“鞋;他們已經沒鞋可穿了;小傑基今早在外麵的柴堆坪,隻用粗麻布袋裹著自己的雙腳;我還給孩子們帶了點糖果;沒有糖果,怎麽算聖誕節呢?”

說真的,他為什麽要做這些?詹森寡婦有比我們離得更近的鄰居,這本不該是我們關心的;我們從詹森屋子背麵走近,盡可能輕地卸下木材,然後我們拿著肉;麵粉和鞋走到門口;敲門;門開了一條縫,一個怯怯的聲音問道:“是誰呀?”“盧卡斯·邁爾斯,夫人,和我兒子,馬特;我們能進來呆會兒嗎?”

寡婦詹森開門讓我們進來;她用毯子裹著自己的雙肩。孩子們則裹著另一條毯子,圍坐在壁爐前,裏麵的火苗已經小得沒什麽熱氣了;寡婦詹森最終摸索到一根火柴點著了燈。“夫人,我們給您帶了些東西,”爸爸邊說,邊放下那袋麵粉。我把肉放在桌上，然後爸爸親手把裝著鞋的袋子遞給她。

她猶豫地打開,一雙一雙地拿出鞋子。有一雙是給她的,孩子們也是一人一雙——很結實的鞋子,最經穿的那種。我盯著她的一舉一動;她緊咬著顫抖的下唇,淚水溢滿雙眼,順著臉頰不斷流下。她看著爸爸,欲言又止。“我們還帶來了一堆木材,夫人,”爸爸說道。他轉身對我說:“馬特,去拿些夠燒一會兒的木柴進來;讓我們把火燒得旺點,讓房子暖和點。”當我再到屋外取木材時,我已不是之前的我了。我喉嚨哽咽,滿眼淚水,盡管自己討厭這樣。我的腦袋裏滿是那3個孩子相擁在壁爐前的情景,他們的媽媽站在那兒,淚流滿麵,無限感激,卻一句話也說不出來。我心潮澎湃,從未有過的快樂溢滿整個身心。之前的聖誕節,我也曾多次給予,但從未像這次這般“雪中送炭”。

詹森寡婦顯露出該是久違的笑容。終於她轉向我們道:“願上帝保佑你們;我知道是上帝派你們來的;我和孩子們都在祈禱他能派出一位天使來免除我們的苦難。”

當我們起身離去時,淚水再次滑落詹森寡婦的臉頰。爸爸依次把每個孩子抱進他寬大的懷中。他們對父親依依不舍,不願我們離去;我能看出他們想念自己的爸爸,我也很慶幸我的爸爸還在。

在戶外的雪橇上,我感到一股暖流從心底湧出,絲毫不覺寒冷。走到半路,爸爸轉過頭對我說道:“馬特,有件事我想讓你知道;我和你媽媽一年來東拚西湊攢了點錢給你買那支步槍,但錢並不夠，昨天一個欠我們一點錢多年的人的到來使事情得以圓滿，我和你媽媽真是高興,想著現在我們可以給你買步槍了,而且今早我就動身進城了，但路上,我看見小傑基腳裹粗麻布袋在柴堆坪裏挑著揀著,我知道該做什麽了，兒子,我拿錢買了鞋和糖果給孩子們;我希望你能夠理解。”我理解,我的眼睛又濕潤了。我非常理解,而且很高興爸爸這麽做了。現在步槍似乎不那麽重要了,爸爸給了我多得多的東西。他給了我詹森寡婦那感激的表情和她3個孩子臉上燦爛的笑容，在我以後的歲月裏,每當我看到詹森家的任何人,或劈木材時,我會記得,會回憶起那晚和爸爸駕雪橇回家時感受到的那種快樂。那晚爸爸給了我比步槍更好的東西,他給了我生命中最好的聖誕節。