Hobby Friday 我的愛好我做主

不要因?yàn)閯e人的目光而輕易放棄你心中的所愛，因?yàn)椋瑦酆脹]有優(yōu)劣之分，只要你真心喜歡。

Chris looked at the clock again. Only five more minutes before school let out.

"On Friday，" said his Creative Learning teacher， Mrs. Griswell， "be prepared to share your favorite hobby with the class. And please bring samples to show everyone！"

Chris groaned. No way am I going to talk about my favorite hobby， he thought. His older brother， Wes， teased him about it enough—and his dad didn't think much of it， either.

After school， Chris's friend Nick sat down beside him on the bus. "So what're you going to do for that hobby thing？" "Uh， I guess I can show my baseball cards，" Chris mumbled1）. No one except his family knew about his real hobby. "Cool，" said Nick. "I'll bring in some of my hockey posters."

As the bus pulled out of the parking lot， Brian tapped Chris on the shoulder. "Heard you guys talking. I'm going to bring my bowling trophies2）. Got five of them. I go every week， you know. Bet you don't know how to keep score. Bet the other kids don't know， either. I'll explain it. It's complicated， you know." "Yeah，" said Chris， turning back around in his seat so he wouldn't have to talk to him anymore. Brian always got on his nerves3）.

"Don't believe him，" Nick whispered. "He's the worst bowler I've ever seen." "But where will he get the trophies？" Nick shrugged. "Borrow some from his dad， I guess. He's really fake." The bus slowed down. "Hey， this is my stop. See you."

At home， Chris pulled out his boxes of baseball cards. He liked baseball—even played some. But his real hobby let him express things from his imagination， and that's what he liked most.

Sorting through his cards， Chris began choosing some of the best ones. He also thought about bringing in the ball that Albert Pujols4） had signed for him. And yet he didn't feel right about what he had decided.

Tuesday passed. Chris gathered his baseball supplies and put them in a grocery bag marked "My Favorite Hobby". He was ready for Friday， but something still felt wrong. He walked out of his room， ignoring the sketchpad5） on his desk.

Wednesday. After school Chris sat at the kitchen table with a cheese and ketchup sandwich and a glass of milk， but he wasn't hungry.

"What's up？" Chris's brother Wes asked， bursting through the door from soccer practice. "Nothing，" Chris mumbled. Wes pulled a bag of pretzels6） from the pantry7）. Chris picked at8） his sandwich. "Hey， today Nick said that Brian was a fake." "Why？" "Because he lies a lot. Makes stuff up to impress people， I guess." "Oh，" said Wes， chomping9） on a pretzel. "I guess Nick must be right， then. Brian sounds pretty fake." "I don't want to be fake，" said Chris. "Why would you be？" Chris thought for a second. "No reason." "Good，" Wes said， as he left the kitchen.

Chris sighed. He didn't want to be fake， but he wasn't sure he had the guts10） to tell everyone his real hobby. The guys would be all over11） him.

He chewed his sandwich slowly， thinking of Grandma. She was the reason he'd gotten interested in his hobby in the first place. "You have talent，" Grandma had told him proudly， admiring12） his work. And that felt really good.

Suddenly， Chris knew what he had to do. He dropped his sandwich on the plate and ran very fast to the phone. "Hi， Grandma， it's Chris. I need your help."

...

Friday morning.

"Are you ready， Chris？" Mrs. Griswell asked. Everyone in the class turned to look at him. Chris walked to the front of the classroom， clutching his grocery bag. His heart was pounding， and his legs felt shaky. I can't do this！ He thought frantically13）. "Go ahead and tell us about your hobby，" Mrs. Griswell said， smiling. Chris nodded. Get it over with14）， he told himself. Don't let them see you sweat. He remembered that from somewhere.

So he began. "I design things. I mean ... I design clothes and accessories15）." Yep！ There they were—the giggles and the sneers16）. "I'm a fashion designer." He brought out his sketchbook and flipped17） through pages showing his designs for jackets and caps， pants and shirts.

"My grandma designs clothes， too，" he explained. "She taught me all about patterns and sewing." There were still a few snickers18）， even though Mrs. Griswell was shaking her head.

But when Chris pulled a headband from his bag and put it on， the class became quiet. "This is one of my accessories for boys. I braided black and blue cording19） and attached a small flat stone that goes in the middle of the forehead." He heard Nick say， "Cool！"

"For girls， the cording is pink and purple with a small seashell."

"I love it！" exclaimed Amber. A few of the other girls nodded enthusiastically.

Chris felt a burst of hope. "I made headbands for everyone，" he said.

The whole class buzzed with excitement. Chris grinned. Now things finally felt right！

克里斯又看了一眼表，距離放學(xué)只剩五分鐘了。

“本周五，”他的創(chuàng)意學(xué)習(xí)課老師格里斯韋爾夫人說，“大家準(zhǔn)備好跟班里的同學(xué)分享一下你最大的愛好吧。請帶一些小樣過來給大家看看！”

克里斯嘆了口氣。我才不會講自己最大的愛好，他想。他的哥哥韋斯因?yàn)檫@個已經(jīng)戲弄他夠多了，他的爸爸也覺得這愛好不怎么樣。

放學(xué)后的校車上，克里斯的朋友尼克挨著他坐下了。“關(guān)于那個愛好的事，你準(zhǔn)備怎么辦？”“嗯，我想我可以給大家看看我的棒球卡。”克里斯咕噥著說。除了他的家人以外，沒人知道他真正的愛好是什么。“不錯啊，”尼克說，“我會帶一些曲棍球的海報(bào)過來。”

校車駛離停車場時，布賴恩拍了拍克里斯的肩膀。“剛才聽到你們倆討論了。我會帶我的保齡球獎杯。得了五個呢。知道嗎，我每周都去打。你們肯定不知道怎么計(jì)分，其他同學(xué)肯定也不知道。我會講解的，很復(fù)雜，知道吧。”“是啊。”克里斯說，他轉(zhuǎn)過身去坐在自己的座位上，這樣他就不用再跟布賴恩搭話了——布賴恩總是讓他心煩意亂。

“別信他的，”尼克悄聲說，“他是我見過的保齡球打得最爛的人。”“但他的獎杯要從哪兒弄來呢？”尼克聳聳肩。“從他爸那兒借幾個吧，我猜。他這人挺假的。”校車放慢了速度。“嘿，我到站了。再見。”

回到家，克里斯拿出了自己一盒盒的棒球卡。他喜歡棒球，甚至還會打一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)。但他真正的愛好讓他可以發(fā)揮想象力來表達(dá)自己，那才是他最喜歡做的。

克里斯整理著那些卡片，開始從中挑出一些最好的。他還想過把艾伯特·皮若爾給他簽了名的那個球帶過去。但他對自己決定要做的感覺不對。

周二過去了。克里斯收集了他的棒球物品，把它們放在一個雜貨袋中，上面寫著“我最大的愛好”。他為周五做好了準(zhǔn)備，但還是有什么東西感覺不對。他走出自己的房間，沒管桌上的速寫本。

周三。放學(xué)后，克里斯坐在廚房餐桌旁，桌上放著一個芝士番茄醬三明治和一杯牛奶，但他不餓。

“怎么了？”克里斯的哥哥韋斯問道，足球訓(xùn)練歸來的他推門而入。“沒什么。”克里斯嘟囔著。韋斯從食品柜中拿出一包椒鹽脆餅。克里斯磨磨蹭蹭地吃著三明治。“嘿，今天尼克說布賴恩是個騙子。”“為什么？”“因?yàn)樗e話連篇。編些謊話來向大家賣弄吧，我猜。”“噢，”韋斯說，大聲嚼著一片椒鹽脆餅，“那我想尼克說的肯定沒錯。布賴恩聽上去挺假的。”“我不想騙人。”克里斯說。“你為什么要騙人呢？”克里斯想了一會兒。“不為什么。”“那就好。”韋斯說著離開了廚房。

克里斯嘆了口氣。他不想騙人，但他不確定他有勇氣告訴所有人自己真正的愛好是什么。大家會對他進(jìn)行口頭攻擊的。

他慢慢嚼著三明治，想到了奶奶。他最初對這個愛好產(chǎn)生興趣就是因?yàn)槟棠獭！澳阌刑熨x。”奶奶曾驕傲地對他說，還稱贊他的作品。那種感覺太棒了。

突然間，克里斯知道自己該怎么做了。他把三明治扔在了盤中，飛快地跑到電話旁。“嗨，奶奶，我是克里斯。我需要您的幫助。”

……

周五上午。

“準(zhǔn)備好了嗎，克里斯？”格里斯韋爾夫人問。班里所有人都轉(zhuǎn)頭去看他。克里斯走到教室前面，手里緊緊抓著自己的雜貨袋。他的心怦怦直跳，雙腿感覺在顫抖。我做不到！他抓狂地想。“來吧，給我們講講你的愛好。”格里斯韋爾夫人微笑著說。克里斯點(diǎn)了點(diǎn)頭。趕快講完就好，他告訴自己。不要讓他們看到你出汗，他記得在哪里看過這句話。

于是他開始了。“我會設(shè)計(jì)東西。我是說……我設(shè)計(jì)衣服和配飾。”果然！來了——咯咯的笑聲和嘲諷聲。“我是一名時尚設(shè)計(jì)師。”他拿出自己的速寫本，快速翻頁展示自己設(shè)計(jì)的夾克、帽子、褲子和襯衫。

“我奶奶也設(shè)計(jì)衣服，”他解釋道，“畫圖、縫制方面的所有知識都是她教給我的。”還是有幾聲竊笑，盡管格里斯韋爾夫人在搖頭[示意他們不要笑]。

但當(dāng)克里斯從自己的袋子中拿出一條發(fā)帶并戴在頭上時，班里安靜了下來。“這是我為男生設(shè)計(jì)的配飾之一。我把黑色和藍(lán)色的繩子編織起來，并在額頭中間的位置嵌上了一小塊扁平的石頭。”他聽到尼克說：“酷！”

“女孩的話，是用粉色和紫色的繩子編織而成的，配上了一枚小貝殼。”

“好喜歡啊！”安布爾大叫。其他幾個女孩也拼命地點(diǎn)頭。

克里斯突然感覺有了希望。“我給每人都做了發(fā)帶。”他說。

全班都興奮地議論起來。克里斯咧開嘴笑了。現(xiàn)在總算感覺對了！