Another pleasure of prose in English translation
In the drizzle, my sister Jill and I ran out of the Methodist church, eager to go home and play with the presents that Santa Claus prepared for us and our little sister Sharon. Opposite the church is a Pan American gas station, where the Greyhound bus will stop. It was closed for Christmas, but I noticed a family standing outside the locked door, huddled under the narrow protrusions trying to stay dry. I once wondered why they were there, but then I forgot them because I ran to catch up with Jill.
Once we get home, we hardly have time to enjoy our gifts. We have to go to our grandparents' home for the annual Christmas dinner. When we crossed the town along the road, I noticed that the family was still there, standing outside the closed gas station.
My father drives very slowly on the highway. The closer we get to the fork in the road to my grandparents' house, the slower we drive. Suddenly, my father turned around in the middle of the road and said, "I can't stand it!" "
"What?" My mother asked.
"It's those who stand in the rain at Pan Am. They have children. Today is Christmas. I can't stand it. "
When my father pulled into the gas station, I saw there were five of them: parents and three children-two girls and a little boy.
My father rolled down the window. "Merry Christmas," he said.
"Hello," the man replied. He was so tall that he had to bend down slightly to look into the car. Jill, Sharon and I stared at the children, and they stared at us.
"Are you waiting for the bus?" My father asked.
The man said yes. They are going to Birmingham, where he has a brother who is expected to find a job.
"Well, that bus won't come for a few hours. You'll get wet standing here. Wimborne is just a few miles down the road. They have a shed with a cover and some benches there, "my father said." "Why don't you get in the car? I'll drive you there."
The man thought for a moment, and then motioned to his family. They climbed into the car. They have no luggage, only the clothes they are wearing.
After they settled down, my father turned to ask the children if Santa Claus had found them. Three unhappy faces silently gave him the answer.
"Well, I don't think so," my father said, winking at my mother. "Because when I saw Santa Claus this morning, he told me that it was difficult for him to find all the toys. He asked me if he could put your toys in my house. Let's get it before I take you to the bus stop. "
Suddenly, the faces of the three children lit up, and they began to jump and laugh in the back seat.
When we got off at home, three children ran into the front door and went straight to the toys under the Christmas tree. One of the girls found Jill's doll and immediately held it to her chest. I remember that little boy grabbed Sharon's ball. Another girl took my things. All this happened a long time ago, but the memory is still clear. It was a Christmas, and my sisters and I learned to make others happy.
Mother noticed that the second child was wearing short sleeves, so she gave Jill's only sweater to the girl.
My father invited them to our grandparents' home for Christmas dinner, but their parents refused. Even though we all tried to persuade them to come, their decision was firm.
Back on the bus, on the way to Wimborne, my father asked the man if he had money to take the bus.
The man said that his brother had sent the tickets.
My father reached into his pocket and took out two dollars, which was all his savings before his next payday. He thrust the money into the man's hand. The man wanted to return it, but my father insisted on returning it. "It's very late when you get to Birmingham, and these children will be hungry before that. Take it. I've been bankrupt before, and I know what it's like when you can't support your family. "
We left them at the bus stop in Wimborne. When we drove away, I looked out of the window as long as possible and looked back at the little girl with the new doll.
It was raining in Mao Mao, and my sister Jill and I ran out of the Methodist Church, hoping to go home soon and play with the gift toys that Santa Claus prepared for us and our little sister Sharon. Opposite the church is the Pan American gas station, where the Greyhound coach will stop. Because it was Christmas, the gas station was closed that day, but I found my family standing outside the locked station door, huddled under the narrow canopy, trying not to get wet by the rain. I flashed a question, why are they standing there? But when I caught up with Jill, I left the mystery behind.
When we get home, we actually don't have time to enjoy our presents, because we have to go to our grandparents' home for the annual Christmas dinner. When I was driving across the street just now, I saw that the family was still standing outside the closed gas station.
Dad's car is driving very slowly on that main road. The closer we get to the fork in the road to grandparents' house, the slower the car will be. Suddenly, my father made a 180 degree turn in the middle of the road and drove the car back. He said, "I really can't stand it!
"What?" Mother asked him.
"That a few people standing outside the Pan American gas station in the rain. They have children. At the moment of Christmas, I really can't bear it. "
Dad drove to the gas station and stopped. I see there are five people in that family: parents and three children-two girls and a little boy.
Dad rolled down the window and said to them, "Merry Christmas!" "
"Hello," the man replied. He is tall, so he should bend down and look at our car. Jill, Sharon and I stared at the children, and they stared at us.
"Are you waiting for the bus?" Dad asked them.
The man replied that they were going to Birmingham. He has a brother there, hoping to find a job.
"The bus will take at least a few hours to get here. Stand here and wait for the bus, you'll get wet. A few miles ahead is Wimbledon station, where there is a shed to shelter from the rain and some benches. Why don't you get on the bus and I'll take you there? "
The man thought for a moment, and then motioned for his family to come over. They got on the bus without any luggage except the clothes they were wearing.
When they were seated, dad turned to ask the children if Santa Claus had found them. Three sad faces answered him silently.
"I don't think so," my father said, winking at my mother. "I met Santa Claus this morning. He said he couldn't find you and wanted to put your gift in our house for the time being. Let's get the present now, and I'll take you to the station later.
The faces of the three children suddenly disappeared, and they were still jumping in the back seat, laughing and shouting.
When I got off at my house, the three children went through the gate and went straight to the presents under the Christmas tree. One of the little girls found Jill's doll present and immediately held it in her arms. I remember that the little boy took Sharon's ball and another girl took one of my things. These things were a long time ago, but the memories are still so clear, because at that Christmas, my sister and I experienced the joy of making others happy.
Mother saw that their second child was wearing a skirt with short sleeves, so she gave Jill the only sweater to wear.
Dad invited them to have a Christmas dinner with their grandparents, but the couple refused. No matter how hard we lobbied, they still refused our kindness.
Back in the car, on the way to Wimbledon, dad asked the man if he had money to buy a ticket.
He said that his brother sent a ticket.
Dad took out the only two dollars from his pocket, which could have lasted until our next salary, but he put the money into the man's hand. The man tried to push the money back, but his father forced him to accept it. "It will be late in Birmingham, and the children will be hungry on the road. Take it. I used to be poor, and it was difficult for me to starve my family. I know. "
After sending them to Wimbledon station, we drove away. I looked back from the window and stared at the little girl with her new doll for a long time.
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