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Sandpipers to Bring Us JoyShe was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.
“Hello,” she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child. “I’m building,” she said.
“I see that. What is it?” I asked, not really caring.
“Oh, I don’t know, I just like the feel of sand.”
That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided1 by. “That’s a joy,” the child said.
“It’s a what?” I asked.
“Good-bye joy,” I muttered to myself, “hello pain,” and turned to walk on. I was depressed3; my life seemed completely out of balance.
“What’s your name?” She wouldn’t give up.
“Robert,” I answered. “I’m Robert Peterson.”
“Mine’s Wendy... I’m six.”
“Hi, Windy.” She giggled5. “You’re funny,” she said. In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle4 followed me.
“Come again, Mr. P,” she called. “We’ll have another happy day.”
The days and weeks that followed belonged to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts6, PTA meetings, and an ailing7 mother.
The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. “I need a sandpiper,” I said to myself, gathering8 up my coat.
The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly9, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity10 I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.
“Hello, Mr. P,” she said. “Do you want to play?”
“I don’t know, you say.”
“Then let’s just walk.” Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face. “Where do you live?” I asked.
“Where do you go to school?”
“I don’t go to school. Mommy says we’re on vacation.” She chattered17 little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.
Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
“Look, if you don’t mind,” I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, “I’d rather be alone today.” She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.
“Why?” she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, “Because my mother died!” and thought, “My God, why was I saying this to a little child?”
“Oh,” she said quietly, “then this is a bad day.”
“Yes,” I said, “and yesterday and the day before and — oh, go away!”
“Did it hurt? “ she inquired.
“Did what hurt?” I was exasperated18 with her, with myself.
“When she died?”
“Of course it hurt!” I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.
A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn’t there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn19 looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke20 of you so much. I’m afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies.”
“Not at all — she’s a delightful21 child,” I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said. “Where is she?”
“Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn’t tell you.” Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.
“She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn’t say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly...” Her voice faltered22.
“She left something for you ... if only I could find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?”
I nodded stupidly, my mind racing23 for something, to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared24 envelope, with “MR. P” printed in bold childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues25 — a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath26 was carefully printed:
A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOYTears welled up in my eyes and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy’s mother in my arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over, and we wept together.
The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words — one for each year of her life — that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color of sand — who taught me the gift of love.
我第一次和她在那个海滩上相遇时，她整六岁。这个海滩离我的住处约有三、四英里。每当我心情压抑，感到烦恼时，就驱车上那儿去。当时她正在用沙子堆积一个城堡似的东西。看到我来，她抬起头来望着我，那双眼睛像大海般深邃、湛蓝。
“您好!”她说。我点了点头作为回答，说实在的，我没有心思跟一个小女孩费神。“我在盖房子呢！”她又说。
“我看见了。这盖的是什么房子呢？”我心不在焉地问道。
“噢，我不知道，我就是喜欢摸沙子的感觉。”
这倒有意思，我边想边脱掉鞋子。蓦地，一只矶鹞从一旁滑翔而过。孩子见了说：“那是欢乐。”
“是什么？”
“是欢乐，矶鹞能给人们带来欢乐，妈妈说的。” 那只矶鹞顺着海滨飞走了。
“再见了，快乐，”我自言自语道，“痛苦来临了。”并转身走开。我很沮丧，因为我现在的生活一团糟。
“您叫什么名字啊？”她还不罢休。
“罗伯特，”我回答，“我叫罗伯特·彼得森。”
“我叫温迪，”──听上去却像Windy（风的意思）。“我六岁了。”
“你好，大风，”我叫道。“您真逗!”她咯咯地笑了。尽管心绪不佳，我也不由得笑了起来，一边往前走着。她那清脆悦耳的笑声依然追随着我。
“您下次再来，彼先生。咱们再快乐地玩一天！”她喊着。
那以后的好几个星期，我忙得不可开交，没有一点闲暇：负责一群调皮捣蛋的童子军，参加家长教师联谊会；还要照顾生病的母亲。
一个阳光明媚的上午，我洗完碗碟，心想：“我需要一只矶鹞。”于是穿上外套向海滩走去。
海岸不断变化的芳香依然在等着我。微风有点刺骨，但是我依然大步走着，我多么渴望能重新处于安静宁谧之中啊！我早已忘掉了那个孩子，所以当她出现在我面前时，不免吃了一惊。
“您好，彼先生!”她说。“你想玩吗？”
“你想玩什么？”带着一丝厌烦，我反问她。
“我不知道，您说吧。”
“猜字谜怎么样？”我挖苦地问。
“我不知道那是什么，”她说着，又发出一阵银铃般的笑声。
“那么，咱们一块儿走走吧。”我望着她，看到了娇嫩而皙白的脸色。“你住在哪儿？”我问她。
“那边！”她用小手指着远处一排夏季避暑的小别墅。我感到纳闷。现在是冬天啊。
“你在哪儿上学呢？”
“我不上学，妈妈说我们在度假。”我们漫步走上海滩，她一路上叽叽喳喳地说着小姑娘们的话。 可是，我却心事重重。当我要回家时，温迪说这是快乐的一天。奇怪的是，我的心情也感到舒坦多了。于是，我同意的报以一笑。
三星期后的一天，我神思恍惚，几乎是疯狂似地冲向我的海滩。我根本不想理睬温迪。
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1
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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3
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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7
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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charades
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| n.伪装( charade的名词复数 )；猜字游戏 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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