佚名/Anonymous
我和姐姐吉尔从卫理公会教堂跑出来时，天空中正飘着毛毛雨。我们一心只想快点回家，玩圣诞老人送给我们和小妹莎伦的玩具礼物。灰狗长途汽车会在教堂对面的泛美加油站停靠。因为那天是圣诞节，加油站没营业。但我发现有一家人站在紧闭的加油站门外，他们挤在狭窄的檐篷下，尽量避免被雨淋湿。我的脑海中突然闪现出一个问题：他们为什么要站在那儿呢？但在我追赶吉尔时，这个疑问很快便被抛之脑后了。
其实到家后根本没时间让我们尽情摆弄礼物，因为我们马上要去爷爷奶奶家共进一年一度的圣诞大餐。在我们的车路过刚才那个街区时，我看到那家人仍站在紧闭的加油站门外。
在公路上爸爸的车速很慢。越接近去爷爷奶奶家的岔路口，车子就越慢。突然，爸爸在公路中间，转了个弯，原路返回，他说：“我实在不忍心！”
“什么？”妈妈问他。
“那几个站在泛美加油站门外淋雨的人，他们还带着小孩呢。今天是圣诞节，我怎么能忍心。”
爸爸把车停在了加油站旁边，我看见那一家共有五口人：父母和三个孩子——两个女孩，一个小男孩。
爸爸把车窗摇了下来，对他们说，“圣诞快乐啊！”
“你好，”那个男人答道。他个子高高的，把腰稍微弯下来往我们车里看。
我和吉尔、莎伦盯着那几个小孩看，他们也瞪着我们。
“你们是在等车吗？”爸爸问。
男人说是，他们在等车准备去伯明翰，他有个哥哥在那边，而且希望能在那儿找份工作。
“汽车至少得几个小时后才能来，站在这儿等车你们都会淋湿的。往前几英里是温邦车站，那儿有个遮棚，可以避雨，还有些板凳坐，”爸爸说，“要不你们上车，我把你们捎到那儿吧。”
男人想了想，然后示意家人过来。他们钻进车里，除了身穿的衣服，没有任何行李。
等他们坐好了，爸爸回过头来问那几个孩子，圣诞老人有没有找到他们。三张阴郁的脸无声地告诉了他答案。
“不会吧，”爸爸边说边眨眼暗示妈妈，“早上我遇到圣诞老人了，他说找不到你们，就把要给你们的礼物先寄存在我们家了。现在咱们就去拿吧，一会儿我再把你们送到车站去。”
三个孩子顿时神采飞扬，在座位上欢呼雀跃起来。
到了我家，一下车，那三个孩子进了大门就直奔圣诞树下的礼物。其中一个小女孩看到了吉尔的洋娃娃，立刻把它抱在怀里。我记得那小男孩把莎伦的小球抓去了，而另外一个女孩则把我的一件礼物挑走了。这是很久很久以前的事了，至今我仍记忆犹新，因为那个圣诞节我和我的姐妹感受到了使别人快乐而获得的愉悦。
妈妈看到他们家老二穿着短袖的裙子，便把吉尔唯一的毛衣送给了她。
爸爸邀请他们一起去爷爷奶奶家吃圣诞大餐。无论怎么劝说，他们还是坚持谢绝了我们的好意。
回到车上，返回温邦的路上，爸爸问那男人是否有买车票的钱。
他说哥哥把车票寄来了。
爸爸把口袋里仅有的两美元掏了出来，那些钱是我们留着坚持到发工资之前的，他却把它塞给了那个男人。男人想把钱推回来，但爸爸坚持要他收下。“等你们到伯明翰时已经很晚了，路上孩子们会饿的。收下吧，我以前也曾一贫如洗，我理解，让家人挨饿的滋味很难受。”
把他们送到温邦的车站后，我们便开车离开了。我透过车窗望了他们好久，看到那小女孩抱着那个新洋娃娃。
A light drizzle was falling as my sister Jill and I ran out of the Methodist Church，eager to get home and play with the presents that Santa had left for us and our baby sister，Sharon.Across the street from the church was a Pan American gas station where the Greyhound bus stopped.It was closed for Christmas，but I noticed a family standing outside the locked door，huddled under the narrow overhang in an attempt to keep dry.I wondered briefly why they were there but then forgot about them as I raced to keep up with Jill.Once we got home，there was barely time to enjoy our presents.We had to go off to our grandparents’house for our annual Christmas dinner.As we drove down the highway through town，I noticed that the family was still there，standing outside the closed gas station.My father was driving very slowly down the highway.The closer we got to the turnoff for my grandparents’house，the slower the car went.Suddenly，my father turned in the middle of the road and said，“I can’t stand it！”
“What？”asked my mother.“It’s those people back there at the Pan Am，standing in the rain.They’ve got children.It’s Christmas.I can’t stand it.”
When my father pulled into the service station，I saw that there were five of them：the parents and three children—two girls and a small boy.My father rolled down his window.“Merry Christmas，”he said.“Howdy，”the man replied.He was very tall and had to stoop slightly to peer into the car.Jill，Sharon，and I stared at the children，and they stared back at us.“You are waiting on the bus？”my father asked.The man said that they were.
They were going to Birmingham，where he had a brother and prospects of a job.“Well，that bus isn’t going to come along for several hours，and you’re getting wet standing here.Winborn’s just a couple miles up the road.They’ve got a shed with a cover there，and some benches，”my father said.“Why don’t you all get in the car and I’ll run you up there.”
The man thought about it for a moment，and then he beckoned to his family.They climbed into the car.They had no luggage，only the clothes they were wearing.Once they settled in，my father looked back over his shoulder and asked the children if Santa had found them yet.Three glum faces mutely gave him his answer.“Well，I didn’t think so，”my father said，winking at my mother，“Because when I saw Santa this morning，he told me that he was having trouble finding you all，and he asked me if he could leave your toys at my house.We’ll just go get them before I take you to the bus stop.”All at once，the three children’s faces lit up，and they began to bounce around in the back seat，laughing and chattering.When we got out of the car at our house，the three children ran through the front door and straight to the toys that were spread out under our Christmas tree.One of the girls spied Jill’s doll and immediately hugged it to her breast.I remembered that the little boy grabbed Sharon’s ball.And the other girl picked up something of mine.All this happened a long time ago，but the memory of it remains clear.That was the Christmas when my sisters and I learned the joy of making others happy.My mother noticed that the middle child was wearing a short-sleeved dress，soshe gave the girl Jill’s only sweater to wear.My father invited them to join us at our grandparents’for Christmas dinner，but the parents refused.Even when we all tried to talk them into coming，they were firm in their decision.
Back in the car，on the way to Winborn，my father asked the man if he had money for bus fare.His brother had sent tickets，the man said.My father reached into his pocket and pulled out two dollars，which was all he had left until his next payday.He pressed the money into the man’s hand.The man tried to give it back，but my father insisted.“It’ll be late when you get to Birmingham，and these children will be hungry before then.Take it.I’ve been broke before，and I know what it’s like when you can’t feed your family.”
We left them there at the bus stop in Winborn.As we drove away，I watched out the window as long as I could，looking back at the little girl hugging her new doll.