Crocus

番紅花

It was an autumn morning shortly after my husband and I moved into our first house. Our children were upstairs unpacking， and I was looking out the window at my father moving around mysteriously on the front lawn. My parents lived nearby， and Dad had visited us several times already. "What are you doing out there?” I called to him.

He looked up， smiling. "I 'm making you a surprise. " Knowing my father, I thought it could be just about anything. A self-employed jobber, he was always building things out of odds and ends. When we were kids, he once rigged up a jungle gym out of wheels and pulleys. For one of my Halloween parties, he created an electrical pumpkin and mounted， it on a broomstick. As guests came to our door, he would light the pumpkin and have it pop out in front of them from a hiding place in the bushes.

Today, however, Dad would say no more, and, caught ups in the busyness of our new life, I eventually forgot about his surprise.

Until one raw day the following March when I glanced out the window. Dismal. Overcast. Little piles of dirty snow still stubbornly littering the lawn, Would winter ever end?

And yet...was it a mirage? I strained to see what I thought was something pink, miraculously peeking out of a drift. And was that a dot of blue across the yard, a small note of optimism in this gloomy expanse? I grabbed my coat and. headed outside for a closer look.

They were crocuses, scattered whimsically throughout the front lawn. Lavender, blue, yellow and my favorite pink-little faces bobbing in the bitter wind.

Dad. I smiled, remembering the bulbs he had secretly planted last autumn. He knew how the darkness and dreariness of winter always got me down. What could have been more perfectly timed, more attuned to my needs? How blessed I was, not only for the flowers but for him.

My father' s crocuses bloomed each spring for the next four or five seasons, bringing that same assurance every time they arrived: Hard times almost over. Hold on, keep going, light is coming soon.

Then a spring came with only half the usual blooms. The next spring there were none. I missed the crocuses, but my life was busier than ever, and I had never been much of a gardener. I would ask Dad to come over and plant new bulbs. But I never did.

He died suddenly one October day. My family grieved deeply, leaning on our faith. I missed him terribly, though I knew he would always be a part of us.

Four years passed, and on a dismal spring afternoon I was running errands and found myself feeling depressed. You've got the winter blahs again, I told myself. You get them every year.

It was Dad ' s birthday, and I found myself thinking about him. This was not unusual--my family often talked about him, remembering how he lived his faith. Once I saw him give his coat to a homeless man. Often he ' d chat with strangers, and if he learned they were poor and hungry, he would invite them home for a meal. But now, in the car, I could not help wondering: How is he now? Where is he? Is there really a heaven?

I felt guilty for having doubts, but sometimes, I thought as I turned into our driveway, faith is so hard.

Suddenly I slowed, stopped and stared at the lawn. Muddy grass and small gray mounds of melting snow. And there, bravely waving in the wind, was one pink crocus.

How could a flower bloom from a bulb more than 18 years old, one that had not blossomed in over a decade? But there was the crocus. Tears filled my eyes as I realized its significance.

Hold on, keep going, light is coming soon. The pink crocus bloomed for only a day. But it built my faith for a lifetime.

那是一個秋日的早晨，全家剛搬進我們第一處住宅不久。孩子們在樓上從包果裏往外拿東西。我望著窗外，見父親正神秘地在屋前的草地上打轉。父母住在附近，父親已到我家來過幾次了。我向他喊道：“您在外邊幹什麽呢?”

他笑著抬起頭來說：“我要給你一個驚喜。”我了解父親，他會做出點事來的。他是個體手藝人，總是用零星東西做些小玩藝兒。當我們還是孩子的時候，有一次他用幾個輪子和滑輪裝配了一個攀登架。有一次萬聖節，他為我做了個電南瓜，還把它裝在一個掃帚把上。客人到我家門前時，他就把點亮藏在樹叢中的南瓜燈，在他們走到跟前突然伸出來。

不過今天爸爸卻不願多說什麽，況且我們新生活的還有千頭萬緒要理，結果我也就忘了他的什麽驚喜了。

第二年三月的一天，我感到潮濕陰冷於是朝窗外望了望，外麵陰沉沉，灰蒙蒙的，草坪上到處是一堆堆不“化”的汙雪。難道冬天就不會走了嗎?

可是...這該不是幻覺吧?我瞪大眼睛看，似乎有粉色的什麽東西從吹積成的雪堆中神奇地冒出來。那是院子那頭的一個小藍點，是這鬱悶壓抑的陰霾中的一個快樂的小音符嗎?我抓起外衣向外奔去，我要去看個究竟。

是番紅花，在屋前草坪上星羅棋布到處都是。淡紫色、藍色、黃色和我鍾愛的粉色——一個個小臉在凜冽的寒風中搖曳著。

爸爸。我笑了，想起了他去年秋天他偷偷種下的球莖。他知道，在萬物凋零的冬天我總是情緒低落。還有什麽比番紅花更適合時宜的呢？還有什麽比番紅花更合我的需求呢?我好幸福，因為有了這些花，更因為有這樣的爸爸。

以後的四五年中，父親種的番紅花年年在競相吐豔，每逢花開都給我帶來同樣的信心：艱難時刻就要結束。堅持不懈，繼續努力，光明就會來臨。

一年後的春天，開的花隻有以往的一半。有過一年，一株花也不見了。我思念番紅花，可我的妻子比平時更加忙碌而我又不擅長養花弄草。本想叫爸爸過來再種些球莖，可我一直也沒付諸行動。

有一年十月的一天，他突然仙逝了。全家人都沉浸在悲痛之中，我們靠信念支撐著。我深深地懷念他，我知道他將永遠和我們在一起。

四年過去了，這年春天的一個下午，天氣陰沉鬱悶，我外出辦事感到心情壓抑。難道你又犯冬季無聊症了，我心裏想。你年年犯這個毛病。

這天是爸爸的生日，我不由得想到了他，這並不奇怪——家裏人經常談起他，回憶他在生活中實踐自己的信念的件件往事。有一次，我曾見他把自己的外衣送給一個無家可歸的人。他常和陌生人聊天，要是聽說他們處於困頓饑餓之境，他會把他們請到家裏吃上一頓飯。而今，坐在汽車中我不禁自問：他現在怎樣了?他在哪兒?真有天國存在嗎?

我為有此疑惑而感到內疚，可有時，我認為堅守信念太難了。此時，我把車拐進了我家的車道上。

我猛地放慢了速度，停下車注視著草坪。草上粘滿泥汙，一個個灰色小雪堆正在溶化。就在這裏，有一株粉紅色的番紅花卻在不屈地迎風搖曳著。

18年前種下的已有10多年未曾生長開花的球莖，如今怎會從新開放呢?可那確是番紅花。當我認識到其深刻含義時，不禁熱淚盈眶。

堅持不懈，繼續努力，光明就會來臨。這株粉色番紅花隻開了一天。但卻為我的一生樹立了信念。