MotherandChild
帕特夏·A.哈布達/PatriciaA.Habada
ItwasChristmas1961.IwasteachinginasmalltowninOhiowheremytwenty-seventhirdgraderseagerlyanticipatedthegreatdayofgiftsgiving.
Atreecoveredwithtinselandgaudypaperchainsgracedonecorner.Inanotherrestedamangersceneproducedfromcardboardandposterpaintsbychubby,andsometimesgrubby,hands.Someonehadbroughtadollandplaceditonthestrawinthecardboardboxthatservedasthemanger.Itdidn』tmatterthatyoucouldpullastringandheartheblue-eyed,golden-haireddollysay,「MynameisSusie.」「ButJesuswasaboybaby!」oneoftheboysproclaimed.Nonetheless,Susiestayed.
Eachdaythechildrenproducedsomenewwonder—stringsofpopcorn,hand-madetrinkets,andGermanbellsmadefromwallpapersamples,whichwehungfromtheceiling.Throughitallsheremainedaloof,watchingfromafar,seeminglymilesaway.Iwonderedwhatwouldhappentothisquietchild,oncesohappy,nowsosuddenlywithdrawn.Ihopedthefestivitieswouldappealtoher.Butnothingdid.Wemadecardsandgiftsformothersanddads,forsistersandbrothers,forgrandparents,andforeachother.Athomethestudentsmadethepopularfriedmarblesandviedwithoneanothertobringintheprettiestones.「Youputtheminahotfryingpan,Teacher.Andyouletthemgetrealhot,andthenyouwatchwhathappensinside.Butyoudon』tfrythemtoolongortheybreak.」so,asmygifttothem,Imadeeachofmystudentsalittlepouchforcarryingtheirfriedmarbles.AndIknewtheyhadeachmadesomethingforme:book-markscarefullycut,colored,andsometimespastedtogether;cardsandspecialdrawings;liquidembroiderydoilies,hand-fringed,ofcourse.
Thedayofgift-givingfinallycame.Weoohedandaahedoverourhandiworkasthepresentswereexchanged.Throughitall,shesatquietlywatching.Ihadmadeaspecialpouchforher,redandgreenwithwhitelace.Iwantedverymuchtoseehersmile.Sheopenedthepackagesoslowlyandcarefully.Iwaitedbutsheturnedaway.Ihadnotpenetratedthewallofisolationshehadbuiltaroundherself.