感心系列(29)-------門階上的天使

□(美)希勒瑞·白奇埃爾德

李威 譯

　　那天早上，當本把牛奶送到我堂兄家時，不像往常那麼愉快。這個瘦小的中年男人看起來沒有和人交談的心情。
　　這是1962年11月底，我們到加利福尼亞州的勞恩德爾鎮不過幾個星期。在找房子期間，我和丈夫、孩子們一直住在堂兄家裡。
　　當本把牛奶器皿從金屬託架上拿下來的時候，終於面色陰鬱地說出了事情的大概。他告訴我，有兩個客戶沒結帳就離開了小鎮，他將不得不自己掏錢賠補。其中一個只欠10元，但另一個卻拖欠了79元，並且沒有留下地址。本對於自己允許欠帳的愚蠢行為感到萬分沮喪。
　　“她是個美麗的女人，”他說，“有6個孩子，而且另一個也快要出生了。她總是說，‘等我丈夫一找到第二職業，我很快就付你錢。’我相信了她。我多蠢!本以為我做了一件好事，但我得到了教訓。”
　　我所能說的只有，“我很遺憾。”

　　我再次看到他時，他看起來怒氣更盛。他談到那些喝光了他牛奶的髒孩子們時，氣得頭髮都豎起來了。
　　當本離開後，我發現自己對他的難題很感興趣，並希望能幫助他。我想到聖誕節快到了，並且記起我的祖母常說的一句話：“當別人拿走你東西的時候，你就給他們，這樣你就永遠不會感到遭受了掠奪。”
　　下一次，本送牛奶來，我告訴他我有辦法使他對那79元感覺好過一些。
　　“沒有什麼辦法，”他說，“不過說來聽聽。”
　　“把牛奶送給那婦人，作為聖誕禮物送給那些需要它的孩子們。”
　　“你在開玩笑嗎?”他回答，“我甚至還沒有給我妻子送過那麼貴重的禮物哩！”
　　“你知道聖經上說，‘我是一個陌生人，你接納了我。’你只是接納了她和她的孩子們。”
　　“你怎麼不說她接納了我?你的問題在於那不是你的79元。”
　　我不再說什麼，但我仍然相信我的建議是正確的。
　　他再來時，我們會拿這個開玩笑。“你還沒有給她牛奶嗎?”我會這樣說。
　　“沒有，”他會反駁說，“不過我正在考慮送一件價值79元的禮物給我的妻子，除非另一個美麗的母親又想利用我的同情心。”
　　每一次我問這個問題，他都好像變得更輕鬆一點。
　　然後，聖誕節前6天，那件事發生了。他來的時候，臉上綻放着笑容，眼睛閃閃發光。“我做過了!”他說。“我把牛奶作為聖誕禮物送給她了。這不容易，但我失去了什麼呢?都過去了，不是嗎?”
　　“是的。”我真替他高興。
　　“我真的覺得好多了。這正是聖誕節我有一個好心情的緣故。是我使那些孩子們有許多的牛奶放進他們的麥片粥里。”
　　假日來了，又過去了。兩個星期後，一月的一個陽光明媚的早晨，本差不多是跑着來的。“等一等，聽我說。”
　　他說，他的路線和以前不同了，要替另一個牛奶工送牛奶。他聽到有人叫他的名字，就回頭去，看到一個婦人正沿着街道跑過來，手裡揮着錢。他立即認出了她——那個有很多孩子、沒有付帳的女人。她正抱着一個用小毛毯裹着的嬰兒。她的長長的褐色頭髮一直遮到她的眼睛。
　　“本，等一會兒。”她喊道，“我有錢給你。”
　　本停住卡車，走出來。
　　“我很抱歉，”她說，“我真的一直想付你錢，”她解釋說，丈夫有一天晚上回家，說他找到了一個便宜點的公寓，也找到了一份晚上干的工作。於是他們搬了家，但她卻忘了留下一個寄送地址。“我已經有一點積蓄了。”她說，“這兒是20元，先還一部分。”
　　“沒關係，”本回答，“已經付過帳了。”
　　“付過了？”她驚呼，“什麼意思，誰付的?”
　　“我。”
　　她朝他看着，好像他是天使加百列(替上帝把好消息報告給世人的天使——譯者注)，然後她哭了。
　　“那麼，”我問，“你做了什麼?”
　　“我不知道該做什麼，因此我伸出一隻胳膊抱着她，不知怎麼，我也哭了，我一點都不明白我哭什麼。然後我想到了那些孩子們有牛奶放在麥片粥里，你知道怎麼樣?我真高興你對我說那些話。”
　　“你沒拿那20元?”
　　“當然沒有，”他憤怒地回答，“我是把牛奶作為聖誕禮物送給她的，不是嗎?”

Angel on a Doorstep
BY SHIRLEY BACHELDER
(Originally published in Reader's Digest)

When Ben delivered milk to my cousin's home that morning, he wasn't his usual sunny self. The slight, middle-aged man seemed in no mood for talking.
It was late November 1962, and as a newcomer to Lawndale, Calif., I was delighted that milkmen still brought bottles of milk to doorsteps. In the weeks that my husband, kids and I had been staying with my cousin while house-hunting, I had come to enjoy Ben's jovial repartee.
Today, however, he was the epitome of gloom as he dropped off his wares from hiswire carrier. It took slow, careful questioning to extract the story from him. With some embarrassment, he told me two customers had left town without paying their bills, and he would have to cover the losses. One of the debtors owed only $10
, but the other was $79 in arrears and had left no forwarding address. Ben was distraught at his stupidity for allowing this bill to grow so large.
"She was a pretty woman," he said, "with six children and another on the way. She was always saying, `I'm going to pay you soon, when my husband gets a second job. I believed her. What a fool I was! I thought I was doing a good thing, but I've learned my lesson. I've been had!"
All I could say was, "I'm so sorry."
The next time I saw him, his anger seemed worse. He bristled as he talked about the messy young ones who had drunk up all his milk. The charming family had turned into a parcel of brats.
I repeated my condolences and let the matter rest. But when Ben left, I found myself caught up in his problem and longed to help. Worried that this incident would sour a warm person, I mulled over what to do. Then, remembering that Christmas was coming, I thought of what my grandmother used to say: "When someone has taken
from you, give it to them, and then you can never be robbed."
The next time Ben delivered milk, I told him I had a way to make him feel better about the $79.
"Nothing will do that," he said, "but tell me anyway."
"Give the woman the milk. Make it a Christmas present to the kids who needed it."
"Are you kidding?" he replied. "I don't even get my wife a Christmas gift that expensive."
"You know the Bible says, 'I was a stranger and you took me in.' You just took h
er in with all her little children."
"Don't you mean she took me in? The trouble with you is, it wasn't your $79."
I let the subject drop, but I still believed in my suggestion.
We'd joke about it when he'd come. "Have you given her the milk yet?" I'd say.
"No," he'd snap back, "but I'm thinking of giving my wife a $79 present, unless another pretty mother starts playing on my sympathies."
Every time I'd ask the question, it seemed he lightened up a bit more.
Then, six days before Christmas, it happened. He arrived with a tremendous smile and a glint in his eyes. "I did it!" he said. "I gave her the milk as a Christmas present. It wasn't easy, but what did I have to lose? It was gone, wasn't it?"
"Yes," I said, rejoicing with him. "But you've got to really mean it in your heart."
"I know. I do. And I really feel better. That's why I have this good feeling about Christmas. Those kids had lots of milk on their cereal just because of me."
The holidays came and went. On a sunny January morning two weeks later, Ben almost ran up the walk. "Wait till you hear this," he said, grinning.
He explained he had been on a different route, covering for another milkman. He heard his name being called, looked over his shoulder and saw a woman running down the street, waving money. He recognized her immediately--the woman with all the kids, the one who didn't pay her bill. She was carrying an infant in a tiny blanket, and the woman's long brown hair kept getting in her eyes.
"Ben, wait a minute!" she shouted. "I've got money for you."
Ben stopped the truck and got out.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "I really have been meaning to pay you." She explained that her husband had come home one night and announced he'd found a cheaper apartment. He'd also gotten a night job. With all that had happened, she'd forgotten to leave a forwarding address. "But I've been saving," she said. "Here's $20 toward the bill."
"That's all right," Ben replied. "It's been paid."
"Paid!" she exclaimed. "What do you mean? Who paid it?"
"I did."
She looked at him as if he were the Angel Gabriel and started to cry.
"Well," I asked, "what did you do?"
"I didn't know what to do, so I put an arm around her. Before I knew what was happening, I started to cry, and I didn't have the foggiest idea what I was crying about. Then I thought of all those kids having milk on their cereal, and you know what? I was really glad you talked me into this."
"You didn't take the $20?"
"Heck no," he replied indignantly. "I gave her the milk as a Christmas present, didn't I?"