天使來到門前

那天早上，當本把牛奶送到我堂兄家時，他不像往常那么愉快。那個瘦小的中年男人看起來沒有和人交談的心情。

這是1962年11月底，我們到加利福尼亞州的朗代爾鎮不過幾個星期。作為一個新來者，我很高興有人能把牛奶送到家門口，在找房子期間，我和丈夫、孩子們一邊暫住在堂兄家里一邊找房子。我漸漸喜歡上送牛奶的本的友善機敏的妙語。

然而，今天當本把牛奶器皿從金屬托架上拿下來的時候，他卻滿臉陰沉。經過緩慢而仔細的盤問才從他那里了解了原委。他局促不安地告訴我，有兩個客戶沒結賬就離開了小鎮，他將不得不自己掏錢賠補。其中一個只欠10元，但另一個卻拖欠了79元，并且沒有留下發送地址。本對于自己允許欠賬的愚蠢行為感到萬分沮喪。

“她是個美麗的女人，”他說，“有6個孩子，而且另一個也快要出生了。她總是說，‘等我丈夫一找到第二職業，我很快就付你錢。’我相信了她。我多蠢！本以為我做了一件好事，但我得到了教訓。”

我所能說的只有，“我很遺憾。”

我再次看到他時，他看起來怒氣更盛。他談到那些喝光了他牛奶的臟孩子們時，氣得頭發都豎起來了。在他眼里，那個可愛的家庭都已變成了一群小壞蛋。

我只能繼續表示對他的同情并試圖讓他平靜下來。當本離開后，我發現自己對他的難題很感興趣，并希望能幫助他。由于擔心這件小事會改變一個善良的人，我反復地考慮著如何去處理此事。我想到圣誕節快到了，并且記起我的祖母常說的一句話：“當別人拿走你東西的時候，你就給他們，這樣你就永遠不會感到遭受了掠奪。”

下一次本送牛奶來時，我告訴他我有辦法使他對那79元感覺好過一些。

“沒有什么辦法的，”他說，“不過說來聽聽。”

“把牛奶送給那婦人，作為圣誕禮物送給那些需要它的孩子們。”

“你在開玩笑嗎？”他回答，“我甚至還沒有給我妻子送過那么貴重的禮物哩！”

“你知道圣經上說，‘我是一個陌生人，你接納了我。’你只是接納了她和她的孩子們。”

“你怎么不說她接納了我？你的問題在于那不是你的79元。”

我不再說什么，但我仍然相信我的建議是正確的。

他再來時，我們會拿這個開玩笑。“你還沒有給她牛奶嗎？”我會這樣說。

“沒有，”他會反駁說，“不過我正在考慮送一件價值79元的禮物給我的妻子，除非另一個美麗的母親又想利用我的同情心。”

每一次我問這個問題，他都好像變得更輕松了一點。

然后，圣誕節前6天，那件事發生了。他來的時候，臉上綻放著笑容，眼睛閃閃發光。“我那樣做了！”他說。“我把牛奶作為圣誕禮物送給她了。這可不容易，但我失去了什么呢？都過去了，不是嗎？”

“是的。”我真替他高興。

“我真的覺得好多了。這正是圣誕節我有一個好心情的緣故。是我使那些孩子們有許多的牛奶放進他們的麥片粥里。”

假日來了，又過去了。兩個星期后，一月的一個陽光明媚的早晨，本笑著差不多是跑著來的。“等一等，聽我說。”

他說，他跑的路線和以前不同了，要替另一個牛奶工送牛奶。他聽到有人叫他的名字，就回過頭去，他看到一個婦人正沿著街道跑過來，手里揮著錢。他立即就認出了她——那個有很多孩子、沒有付賬的女人。她正抱著一個用小毛毯裹著的嬰兒。她的長長的褐色頭發一直遮到她的眼睛。

“本，等一會兒。”她喊道，“我有錢給你。”

本停住卡車，走了出來。

“我很抱歉，”她說，“我真的一直想付給你錢，”她解釋說，丈夫有一天晚上回家，說他找到了一個便宜點的公寓，也找到了一份晚上干的工作。于是他們搬了家，但她卻忘了留下一個發送地址。“我已經有一點積蓄了。”她說，“這兒是20元，先還一部份。”

“沒關系，”本回答，“已經付過賬了。”

“付過了？”她驚呼，“什么意思，誰付的？”

“我。”

她朝他看著，好像他是天使加百列（替上帝把好消息報告給世人的天使——譯者注），然后她哭了。

“那么，”我問，“你做了什么？”

“我不知道該做什么，因此我伸出一只胳膊抱著她，不知怎么，我也哭了，我一點都不明白我哭什么。然后我想到了那些孩子們有牛奶放在麥片粥里，你知道怎么樣？我真高興你說服了我那樣做。”

“你沒拿那20元？”

“當然沒有，”他憤怒地回答，“我是把牛奶作為圣誕禮物送給她的，不是嗎？”

When Ben delivered milk to my cousin’s home that morning， he wasn’t his usual sunny self. The slight， middle-aged man seemed in no mood for talking.

It was late November 1962， and as a newcomer to Lawndale， Calif， I was delighted that milkmen still brought bottles of milk to doorsteps. In the weeks that my husband， kids and I had been staying with my cousin while house-hunting， I had come to enjoy Ben’s jovial repartee.

Today， however， he was the epitome of gloom as he dropped off his wares from his wire carrier. It took slow， careful questioning to extract the story from him. With some embarrassment， he told me two customers had left town without paying their bills， and he would have to cover the losses. One of the debtors owed only $10， but the other was $79 in arrears and had left no forwarding address. Ben was distraught at his stupidity for allowing this bill to grow so large.

“She was a pretty woman，” he said， “with six children and another on the way. She was always saying， I’m going to pay you soon， when my husband gets a second job. I believed her. What a fool I was！ I thought I was doing a good thing， but I’ve learned my lesson. ”

All I could say was， “I’m so sorry.”

The next time I saw him， his anger seemed worse. He bristled as he talked about the messy young ones who had drunk up all his milk. The charming family had turned into a parcel of brats.

I repeated my condolences and let the matter rest. But when Ben left， I found myself caught up in his problem and longed to help. Worried that this incident would sour a warm person， I mulled over what to do. Then， remembering that Christmas was coming， I thought of what my grandmother used to say： “When someone has taken it from you， give it to them， and then you can never be robbed.”

The next time Ben delivered milk， I told him I had a way to make him feel better about the $79.

“Nothing will do that，” he said， “but tell me anyway.”

“Give the woman the milk. Make it a Christmas present to the kids who need it.”

“Are you kidding？” he replied. “I don’t even get my wife a Christmas gift that expensive.”

“You know the Bible says，‘I was a stranger and you took me in.’ You just took her in with all her little children.”

“Don’t you mean she took me in？ The trouble with you is， it wasn’t your $79.”

I let the subject drop， but I still believed in my suggestion.

We’d joke about it when he’d come. “Have you given her the milk yet？” I’d say.

“No，” he’d snap back， “but I’m thinking of giving my wife a $79 present， unless another pretty mother starts playing on my sympathies.”

Every time I’d ask the question， it seemed he lightened up a bit more.

Then， six days before Christmas， it happened. He arrived with a tremendous smile and a glint in his eyes. “I did it！” he said. “I gave her the milk as a Christmas present. It wasn’t easy， but what did I have to lose？ It was gone， wasn’t it？”

“Yes，” I said， rejoicing with him.

“I know. I do. And I really feel better. That’s why I have this good feeling about Christmas. Those kids had lots of milk on their cereal just because of me.”

The holidays came and went. On a sunny January morning two weeks later， Ben almost ran up the walk. “Wait till you hear this，” he said， grinning.

He explained he had been on a different route， covering for another milkman. He heard his name being called， looked over his shoulder and saw a woman running down the street， waving money. He recognized her immediately—the woman with all the kids， the one who didn’t pay her bill. She was carrying an infant in a tiny blanket， and the woman’s long brown hair kept getting in her eyes.

“Ben， wait a minute！” she shouted. “I’ve got money for you.”

Ben stopped the truck and got out.

“I’m so sorry，” she said. “I really have been meaning to pay you.” She explained that her husband had come home one night and announced he’d found a cheaper apartment. He’d also gotten a night job. With all that had happened， she’d forgotten to leave a forwarding address. “But I’ve been saving，” she said. “Here’s $20 toward the bill.”

“That’s all right，” Ben replied. “It’s been paid.”

“Paid！” she exclaimed. “What do you mean？ Who paid it？”

“I did.”

She looked at him as if he were the Angel Gabriel and started to cry.

“Well，” I asked， “what did you do？”

“I didn’t know what to do， so I put an arm around her. Before I knew what was happening， I started to cry， and I didn’t have the foggiest idea what I was crying about. Then I thought of all those kids having milk on their cereal， and you know what？ I was really glad you talked me into this.”

“You didn’t take the $20？”

“Heck no，” he replied indignantly. “I gave her the milk as a Christmas present， didn’t I？”