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This Year of the Unicorn

每年圣誕節(jié)，我和妹妹起得都特別早。父母會(huì)把我們送回床上，再讓我們睡會(huì)兒。我們兩個(gè)會(huì)擠在我的房間，熱切地討論樓下將會(huì)有什么樣的禮物在等著我們。

有一年我特別想要一輛自行車。現(xiàn)在我依然清楚記得向妹妹描述我想要的自行車的樣子：粉紅色的，系著銀色的飄帶，有一個(gè)閃閃發(fā)亮的銀色車座。最終，當(dāng)聽到父母在樓下的走動(dòng)聲，我們就知道我們差不多可以下樓了。一旦咖啡的香氣飄到我們的房間里來，就意味著父母不僅起床了，而且已經(jīng)用過咖啡，準(zhǔn)備好發(fā)放禮物了。

這個(gè)時(shí)候，我們就會(huì)飛奔到樓下。我九歲那年，我的妹妹莉莉六歲，我特別渴望得到的圣誕禮物是芭比夢(mèng)想小屋。我學(xué)校的一個(gè)女孩有一個(gè)這樣的小屋。有一天放學(xué)后我很幸運(yùn)地得到她的允許，看了一眼這個(gè)小屋。每每放學(xué)后，她就像個(gè)慷慨施舍的公主一樣，用一些聰明的小手段從我們中間選出一個(gè)或者兩個(gè)人，然后安靜地坐下來，心滿意足地看著我們滿臉驚奇地欣賞著那個(gè)小屋。幾分鐘后，她就把小屋收起來，讓我們回家。我覺得如果也能夠擁有一個(gè)這樣的夢(mèng)想小屋，我的人生就完美了。這件禮物比我以前要求的都貴重得多，但是我覺得正因?yàn)槿绱�，我反而更有可能�?shí)現(xiàn)我的愿望。

一天夜里，我無意中聽到父母的談話，他們以為我和莉莉已經(jīng)上床睡覺了�！氨葼�，我們?cè)撛趺礈?zhǔn)備今年的圣誕禮物？”媽媽的聲音從廚房里傳出來，語(yǔ)氣輕柔卻充滿不安。

“我現(xiàn)在還不知道，梅爾。我們總會(huì)想到解決辦法的。我們一直都可以，親愛的，不要擔(dān)心�！薄拔抑�道。我只是禁不住地?fù)?dān)心。”媽媽接下來的話被一陣流水聲淹沒了。她肯定在清洗晚餐的碗碟。我悄悄回到自己的臥室，對(duì)剛剛聽到的談話感到一絲忐忑不安。但是，我畢竟還是個(gè)孩子，很快就忘了他們的談話，一心期待心愛的芭比夢(mèng)想小屋。

父母談?wù)摰哪莻�(gè)圣誕節(jié)很快就到了。早上的時(shí)候，莉莉和我照例擠在我的房間里，等待著我們可以下樓的信號(hào)出現(xiàn)。莉莉想要一輛新自行車，她一個(gè)勁兒地問我圣誕老人會(huì)不會(huì)把這個(gè)禮物送給她，但是我滿腦子想的都是我的夢(mèng)想小屋。不知道為什么，我總覺得自己能夠得到它，因?yàn)樯�活和命運(yùn)不至于如此殘酷，會(huì)拒絕我的這個(gè)要求。我似乎能看到小屋的塑料墻壁上張貼的漂亮壁紙，與之相配的精美家具，還有設(shè)計(jì)精巧的手工操作的電梯。我似乎還聞到了小屋散發(fā)出來的嶄新的塑料的氣味。我狠狠吸了一口氣，想象著自己向朋友和敵人炫耀這件禮物時(shí)的情形。突然，我聞到一股新煮的咖啡的香氣。下樓的時(shí)間到了！

我的雙眼依然閃爍著期待的光芒。我快速走下樓梯，因?yàn)樘�過匆忙幾乎將莉莉撞倒。父母都坐在廚房里，小口啜著咖啡。雖然我知道他們希望我會(huì)停下來，等著和他們一起走進(jìn)起居室。但是，我對(duì)禮物的渴求太過強(qiáng)烈，以至于一分鐘也等不了。我從他們身邊穿過，徑直走向起居室。我迫不及待地推開起居室的雙層門，高興和感激的話語(yǔ)已經(jīng)沖到嘴邊，結(jié)果卻發(fā)現(xiàn)，那里根本沒有夢(mèng)想小屋。我瘋狂地翻著圣誕樹下面的盒子，確定它應(yīng)該就在那里，根本沒有注意到我的父母和妹妹已經(jīng)進(jìn)了起居室，站在我的身后。父母的臉上掛著緊張的微笑。最終，我不得不承認(rèn)圣誕樹下根本放不下夢(mèng)想小屋。我抬起頭看著父母，臉上充滿了悲傷和困惑。

“停一下，親愛的。圣誕老人還給你送來另外一件不太適合放在圣誕樹下的禮物。比爾，趕快過去拿給她看！”

只見爸爸走向一個(gè)角落。角落里有張大毯子蓋在了一大塊東西上，我的希望之光再次被點(diǎn)燃起來。不過，這個(gè)大小和形狀都不太對(duì)。爸爸把毯子拉開，臉上掛著緊張的笑容。下面原來是一個(gè)巨大的玩具屋。如果說芭比夢(mèng)想小屋漂亮?xí)r髦，那么這個(gè)玩具屋就是丑陋老舊。它有一個(gè)尖尖的屋頂和院子，還有看似手工制作的家具；墻上的壁紙似乎跟父母去年秋天掛在莉莉房間里的很像。慢慢地，我弄明白了，這個(gè)玩具屋是爸爸自己做的。

回想起來，我現(xiàn)在已經(jīng)記不清那天后來發(fā)生的事，雖然之前的種種至今都是歷歷在目。我記得當(dāng)我意識(shí)到我的圣誕禮物不能讓學(xué)校的其他女孩們大吃一驚的時(shí)候，我感到極度的無助和悲傷。雖然我明白爸爸為了制作這個(gè)玩具屋花費(fèi)了很多時(shí)間和精力，也盡量表現(xiàn)出很感激的樣子，但我失望的表情簡(jiǎn)直一目了然。我心里還是想不明白他為什么送給我這么一個(gè)粗糙的仿造品而不是我心心念念的夢(mèng)想小屋。

長(zhǎng)大以后，我真希望可以回到過去，悄悄地告訴年幼的自己應(yīng)該更加感激爸爸的勞動(dòng)成果，但是這是不可能實(shí)現(xiàn)的�，F(xiàn)在我依然保存著這個(gè)玩具屋。當(dāng)我有了自己的孩子，我會(huì)給他們講這個(gè)故事，我希望他們能夠比我理解得更加深入。

This Year of the Unicorn

It was always the same, every Christmas. My sister and I would wake up early, my parents would send us back to bed, and we would instead huddle in my room, discussing which gifts might be waiting for us downstairs. One year it was a bicycle that I wanted,and I can still remember telling my sister exactly what it would look like: pink, with silver streamers and a sparkly silver seat. Eventually we would hear our parents moving around downstairs and we would know that it was almost time. Once the scent of coffee made it to our rooms, we would hurl ourselves downstairs since that signified that our parents were not only awake but caffeinated and ready for gift-giving.

The year that I was nine, and Lily was six, the gift that I had been craving was the Barbie Dream House. Another girl from my school had one and I had been lucky enough to be allowed a glimpse of it after school one day. She was like a princess bestowing largesse; allowing one or two people over after school most days,demonstrating the various clever mechanisms, then sitting quietly, contentedly, while we gazed in wonder of a few minutes. Then, she sent us on our way. I knew that if I could only have a Dream House of my own, my life would be complete. It was a bigger gift

than I usually requested but, logically, I felt, that meant I was all the more likely to have

my wish granted.

One night I overheard my parents, after they thought Lily and I had gone to bed.“Bill, what are we going to do about Christmas this year?”My mother’s voice,quiet and unsettlingly uncertain, came from the kitchen.

“I don’t know yet, Mel, but we’ll figure something out. We always do, honey. ”“I know, I just can’t help but worry. ”Whatever my mother said next was drowned out by the running water—she must have been washing up after dinner. I crept back to my bedroom, a little bit troubled by what I had heard but, as is the way of children, soon forgot and went back to Barbie Dream House dreaming.

On the Christmas morning in question, Lily and I huddle in my room, waiting for the signal to appear. She wanted a new bike and kept asking me if Santa would get it for her, but all I could think about was my Dream House. Somehow, I had convinced myself that I was certain to get it, that life and the fates could not possibly be cruel enough to deny me this. I could see the wallpaper that was printed on the plastic walls,the darling matching furniture, and the ingenious hand-operated elevator. It would smell like new plastic. I inhaled deeply, imagining myself showing my gift off to friends and foes alike. Instead of new plastic, however, my nostrils quivered to the odor of freshly brewed coffee. It was time.

My eyes still full of the glories I expected, I barreled down the stairs, almost knocking Lily down in my haste. Both of my parents were standing in the kitchen,sipping coffee. I tore past them, even though I knew that they would expect me to stop and wait for them to walk into the living room with me. My longing was simply too exquisite to wait any longer. I burst through the double doors into our living room,words of joy and gratitude ready on my lips, only to find—there was no Dream House.

Frantically, I began to paw through the boxes under the tree, certain that it had to be there, somewhere, blind to movement of my parents and sister entering the room behind me, nervous smiles on both my parents’ faces. Eventually I was forced to concede that the tree was not somehow harboring a Dream House under its limbs. I looked up at my parents, grief and confusion painted large on my features.

“Hold up a minute, honey. Santa brought you one more gift that wouldn’t quite fit under the tree. Bill, go ahead—show her. ”

As I watched my father head towards a corner where a large blanket was draped over some bulky object, hope flickered back to life a bit. But the size was all wrong,as was the shape. Still smiling anxiously, my father pulled the blanket away from what appeared to be a huge dollhouse. If Barbie’s Dream House was sleek and modern, this was awkward and old-fashioned. It had a peaked roof and a patio, with what looked like handmade furniture and wallpaper that looked suspiciously like the paper my parents had hung in Lily’s room last fall. Slowly, realization dawned—my father had made it for me.

Looking back, I can only recall the rest of that day hazily, even though the events up until that moment are as clear today as they were at the time. I remember the feeling of devastation that I felt, as I realized that the other girls from school would not, in fact,be blown away by my Christmas gift. I tried to be as grateful as I could, understanding even then that my father had probably spent countless hours working on the house,but my disappointment was only too evident. I just couldn’t understand why they had given me this crude approximation instead of my heart’s desire. As an adult, I wish I could go back in time, whisper the reason to my younger self, try to be more appreciative of my father’s efforts, but that is not the way of the world. I still have the house, though, and when I have children of my own. I will tell them the whole story,

and I hope they will understand better than I did.