番红花 第1期

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It was an autumn morning shortly after my husband and I moved into our first house. Our children were upstairs unpacking， and I was looking out the window at my father moving around mysteriously on the front lawn. My parents lived nearby， and Dad had visited us several times already. “What are you doing out there？” I called to him.

He looked up， smiling， “I’m making you a surprise.” Knowing my father， I thought it could be just about anything.

A self-employed jobber， he was always building things out of odds and ends. When we were kids， he once rigged up a jungle gym out of wheels and pulleys.

For one of my Halloween parties， he created an electrical pumpkin and mounted it on a broomstick. As guests came to our door， he would light the pumpkin and have it pop out in front of them from a hiding place in the bushes.

Today， however， Dad would say no more. And caught up in the busyness of our new life， I eventually forgot about his surprise.

One raw day the following March when I glanced out the window. It’s dismal and overcast， little piles of dirty snow still stubbornly littering the lawn. Would winter ever end？

And yet...was it a mirage？ I strained to see what I thought was something pink， miraculously peeking out of a drift. And was that a dot of blue across the yard， a small note of optimism in this gloomy expanse？ I grabbed my coat and headed outside for a closer look.

They were crocuses， scattered whimsically throughout the front lawn. Lavender， blue， yellow and my favorite pink—little faces bobbing in the bitter wind.

I smiled， remembering the bulbs he had secretly planted last autumn. He knew how the darkness and dreariness of winter always got me down. What could have been more perfectly timed and more attuned to my needs？ How blessed I was， not only for the flowers but also for him！

My father’s crocuses bloomed each spring for the next four or five seasons， bringing that same assurance every time they arrived： hard times almost over. Hold on， keep going， and light is coming soon.

Then a spring came with only half the usual blooms. The next spring there were none. I missed the crocuses， but my life was busier than ever， and I had never been much of a gardener. I would ask Dad to come over and plant new bulbs. But I never did.

He died suddenly one October day. My family grieved deeply， leaning on our faith. I missed him terribly， though I knew he would always be a part of us.

Four years passed， and on a dismal spring afternoon I was running errands and found myself feeling depressed. “You’ve got the winter blahs again，” I told myself. “You get them every year.”

It was Dad’s birthday， and I found myself thinking about him. This was not unusual—my family often talked about him， remembering how he lived his faith. Once I saw him give his coat to a homeless man. Often he’d chat with strangers， and if he learned they were poor and hungry， he would invite them home for a meal. But now， in the car， I could not help wondering how he is now. Where is he？ Is there really a heaven？

I felt guilty for having doubts， but sometimes， I thought as I turned into our driveway， faith is so hard.

Suddenly I slowed， stopped and stared at the lawn. Muddy grass and small gray mounds of melting snow. And there， bravely waving in the wind was one pink crocus.

那是一个秋日的早晨，我和丈夫刚搬进我们第一处住宅不久。孩子们在楼上给家什拆封，我则望着窗外，见爸爸正神秘地在屋前的草地上打转。父母住在附近，爸爸已到我家来过几次了。我向他喊道：“您在外边干什么呢？”

他抬起头，笑着说：“我要给你一个惊喜。”我了解爸爸，他会做出点事来的。

他是个自己单干的手艺人，总是用零星东西做些小玩艺儿。当我们还是孩子的时候，他就曾经用几个轮子和滑轮装配了一个攀登架。

在我的一次万圣节聚会上，他为我做了个南瓜电灯，还把它装在一个扫帚柄上。客人来到我家门前时，他就把藏在树丛中的南瓜灯点亮，让它在客人走到跟前时突然冒出来。

不过，今天爸爸却不愿多说什么，况且我们的新生活还有千头万绪要理，结果我也就忘了他的什么惊喜了。

第二年3月的一天，我感到潮湿阴冷，于是朝窗外望了望，外面阴沉沉、灰蒙蒙的，草坪上到处是一堆堆“顽固不化”的污雪。难道冬天就不会走了吗？

可是……这该不是幻觉吧？我瞪大眼睛看，似乎有粉色的什么东西从雪堆中神奇地冒出来。那是院子那头的一个小蓝点吗？是这郁闷压抑的阴霾中一个乐观的小音符吗？我抓起外衣向外奔去，我要凑近瞧瞧。

是番红花，在屋前草坪上星罗棋布。有淡紫色、蓝色、黄色和我钟爱的粉色——一个个小脸在凛冽的寒风中摇曳着。

我笑了，想起了爸爸去年秋天偷偷种下的球茎。他知道，万物凋零的冬天总让我情绪低落。还有什么比番红花更合时宜的呢？还有什么比番红花更合我的需求呢？我好幸福，不仅是因为有了这些花，更因为有这样的爸爸。

以后的四五年中，父亲种的番红花年年在竞相吐艳，每逢花开时都给我带来同样的信心：艰难时刻就要结束。坚持不懈，继续努力，光明马上就来临了。

一年后的春天，开的花只有以往的一半。接下来的一个春天，一株花也没开。我思念番红花，可我的生活比以前更加忙碌了，而我又不擅长养花弄草。本想叫爸爸过来再种些球茎，可我一直都没那么做。

有一年10月的一天，他突然去世了。全家人都沉浸在悲痛之中，我们靠信念支撑着。我深深地怀念他，我知道他将永远和我们在一起。

4年过去了，这年春天的一个下午，天气阴沉郁闷，我外出办事时感到心情压抑。“你又犯冬季无聊症了。”我想，“你年年犯这个毛病。”

这天是爸爸的生日，我不由得想到了他，这并不奇怪——家里人经常谈起他，回忆他在生活中实践自己的信念。有一次，我曾见他把自己的外衣送给一个无家可归的人。他常和陌生人聊天，要是听说他们处于困顿饥饿之中，他会把他们请到家里吃上一顿饭。而今，坐在汽车中我不禁自问：他现在怎样了？他在哪儿？真有天堂吗？

我为有这些疑惑而感到内疚。可有时，当我把车拐进我家的车道上时，我认为坚守信念真的太难了。

我猛地放慢了速度，停下车注视着草坪。草上粘满泥污，一个个灰色小雪堆正在融化。就在那里，一株粉红色的番红花勇敢地在风中摇曳着。