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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.
那是一个秋日的早晨，全家刚搬进我们第一处住宅不久。孩子们在楼上从包果里往外拿东西。我望着窗外，见父亲正神秘地在屋前的草地上打转。父母住在附近，父亲已到我家来过几次了。我向他喊道：“您在外边干什么呢?”
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.
他笑着抬起头来说：“我要给你一个惊喜。”我了解父亲，他会做出点事来的。他是个体手艺人，总是用零星东西做些小玩艺儿。当我们还是孩子的时候，有一次他用几个轮子和滑轮装配了一个攀登架。有一次万圣节，他为我做了个电南瓜，还把它装在一个扫帚把上�？腿说轿壹颐徘笆�，他就把点亮藏在树丛中的南瓜灯，在他们走到跟前突然伸出来。
Today, however, Dad would say no more, and, caught ups in the busyness of our new life, I eventually forgot about his surprise.
不过今天爸爸却不愿多说什么，况且我们新生活的还有千头万绪要理，结果我也就忘了他的什么惊喜了。
Until one raw day the following March when I glanced out the window. Dismal. Overcast. Little piles of dirty snow still stubbornly littering the lawn, Would winter ever end?
第二年三月的一天，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不“化”的污雪。难道冬天就不会走了吗?
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.
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吹积成的雪堆中神奇地冒出来。那是院子那头的一个小蓝点，是这郁闷压抑的阴霾中的一个快乐的小音符吗?我抓起外衣向外奔去，我要去看个究竟。
They were crocuses, scattered whimsically throughout the front lawn. Lavender, blue, yellow and my favorite pink-little faces bobbing in the bitter wind.
是番红花，在屋前草坪上星罗棋布到处都是。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。
Dad. 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, more attuned to my needs? How blessed I was, not only for the flowers but for him.
爸爸。我笑了，想起了他去年秋天他偷偷种下的球茎。他知道，在万物凋零的冬天我总是情绪低落�；褂惺裁幢确旎ǜ屎鲜币说哪兀炕褂惺裁幢确旎ǜ衔业男枨竽�?我好幸福，因为有了这些花，更因为有这样的爸爸。
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, light is coming soon.
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，光明就会来临。
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.
一年后的春天，开的花只有以往的一半。有过一年，一株花也不见了。我思念番红花，可我的妻子比平时更加忙碌而我又不擅长养花弄草。本想叫爸爸过来再种些球茎，可我一直也没付诸行动。
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.
有一年十月的一天，他突然仙逝了。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。
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.
四年过去了，这年春天的一个下午，天气阴沉郁闷，我外出办事感到心情压抑。难道你又犯冬季无聊症了，我心里想。你年年犯这个毛病。
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 is he now? Where is he? Is there really a heaven?
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的件件往事。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境，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?真有天国存在吗?
I felt guilty for having doubts, but sometimes, I thought as I turned into our driveway, faith is so hard.
我为有此疑惑而感到内疚，可有时，我认为坚守信念太难了。此时，我把车拐进了我家的车道上。
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.
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溶化。就在这里，有一株粉红色的番红花却在不屈地迎风摇曳着。
How could a flower bloom from a bulb more than 18 years old, one that had not blossomed in over a decade? But there was the crocus. Tears filled my eyes as I realized its significance.
18年前种下的已有10多年未曾生长开花的球茎，如今怎会从新开放呢?可那确是番红花。当我认识到其深刻含义时，不禁热泪盈眶。
Hold on, keep going, light is coming soon. The pink crocus bloomed for only a day. But it built my faith for a lifetime.
坚持不懈，继续努力，光明就会来临。这株粉色番红花只开了一天。但却为我的一生树立了信念。
那是一个秋日的早晨，全家刚搬进我们第一处住宅不久。孩子们在楼上从包果里往外拿东西。我望着窗外，见父亲正神秘地在屋前的草地上打转。父母住在附近，父亲已到我家来过几次了。我向他喊道：“您在外边干什么呢?”
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.
他笑着抬起头来说：“我要给你一个惊喜。”我了解父亲，他会做出点事来的。他是个体手艺人，总是用零星东西做些小玩艺儿。当我们还是孩子的时候，有一次他用几个轮子和滑轮装配了一个攀登架。有一次万圣节，他为我做了个电南瓜，还把它装在一个扫帚把上�？腿说轿壹颐徘笆�，他就把点亮藏在树丛中的南瓜灯，在他们走到跟前突然伸出来。
Today, however, Dad would say no more, and, caught ups in the busyness of our new life, I eventually forgot about his surprise.
不过今天爸爸却不愿多说什么，况且我们新生活的还有千头万绪要理，结果我也就忘了他的什么惊喜了。
Until one raw day the following March when I glanced out the window. Dismal. Overcast. Little piles of dirty snow still stubbornly littering the lawn, Would winter ever end?
第二年三月的一天，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不“化”的污雪。难道冬天就不会走了吗?
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.
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吹积成的雪堆中神奇地冒出来。那是院子那头的一个小蓝点，是这郁闷压抑的阴霾中的一个快乐的小音符吗?我抓起外衣向外奔去，我要去看个究竟。
They were crocuses, scattered whimsically throughout the front lawn. Lavender, blue, yellow and my favorite pink-little faces bobbing in the bitter wind.
是番红花，在屋前草坪上星罗棋布到处都是。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。
Dad. 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, more attuned to my needs? How blessed I was, not only for the flowers but for him.
爸爸。我笑了，想起了他去年秋天他偷偷种下的球茎。他知道，在万物凋零的冬天我总是情绪低落�；褂惺裁幢确旎ǜ屎鲜币说哪兀炕褂惺裁幢确旎ǜ衔业男枨竽�?我好幸福，因为有了这些花，更因为有这样的爸爸。
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, light is coming soon.
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，光明就会来临。
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.
一年后的春天，开的花只有以往的一半。有过一年，一株花也不见了。我思念番红花，可我的妻子比平时更加忙碌而我又不擅长养花弄草。本想叫爸爸过来再种些球茎，可我一直也没付诸行动。
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.
有一年十月的一天，他突然仙逝了。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。
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.
四年过去了，这年春天的一个下午，天气阴沉郁闷，我外出办事感到心情压抑。难道你又犯冬季无聊症了，我心里想。你年年犯这个毛病。
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 is he now? Where is he? Is there really a heaven?
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的件件往事。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境，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?真有天国存在吗?
I felt guilty for having doubts, but sometimes, I thought as I turned into our driveway, faith is so hard.
我为有此疑惑而感到内疚，可有时，我认为坚守信念太难了。此时，我把车拐进了我家的车道上。
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.
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溶化。就在这里，有一株粉红色的番红花却在不屈地迎风摇曳着。
How could a flower bloom from a bulb more than 18 years old, one that had not blossomed in over a decade? But there was the crocus. Tears filled my eyes as I realized its significance.
18年前种下的已有10多年未曾生长开花的球茎，如今怎会从新开放呢?可那确是番红花。当我认识到其深刻含义时，不禁热泪盈眶。
Hold on, keep going, light is coming soon. The pink crocus bloomed for only a day. But it built my faith for a lifetime.
坚持不懈，继续努力，光明就会来临。这株粉色番红花只开了一天。但却为我的一生树立了信念。
