刈草坪的童年

by Francesca Biller

Freshly cut grass was the smell I

most remember from my childhood neighborhood， mowed and 1）manicured by young dimpled boys before and after school， but mostly on weekends in between wide-eyed bike rides and 2）stick ball-playing in the street.

On any given day you might see Chris， Brent or Phillip wipe sweat from their brows with their youth-3）calloused hands as they whistled and mowed the lawns of the Anderson family， the Portners or the Wood bunch， with their 4）sprawling yellow house and seven lapping dogs.

“See you at the Pier after I get done，”Chris would yell to Phillip， whom we all called Philly.

Philly would not say anything， but would raise up one of his hands as he was a particularly good mower and wanted to earn his two dollars and fifty cents an hour to save up for a new 5）Schwinn bicycle.

The boys were about thirteen or fourteen at most， not yet men but no longer young-heeled babes who ran tirelessly after the ice cream truck for the cold comforts of childhood.

Whether or not kids were expected to do their fair share was not an idea that occurred to anyone on the streets where we lived.

My father often recalled his first job as a paper boy and then as a gas station attendant. He told us there was no greater feeling than working and getting “that first tip”， his first paycheck and buying a soda pop or comic book on his own dime.

My mother worked on her family farm， beginning at the age of four， and picked ripened coffee beans under the vast， widening skies of Hawaii during World War II. She worked with her four siblings while they sang made-up songs about school， their friends and the dreams they shared.

Philly eventually bought that bike and couldnt help but ride it in front of my house at least twice a day， while he jumped curbs and mussed up his hair on purpose just to make me look.

Brent was saving up to put himself through college， since his father told him that “an education had to be earned if it was to be learned at all.”

As for Chris， he spent all of his earnings on a 1969 Blue 6）Dodge Dart as soon as he was allowed to drive. When he got that car， all the girls in the neighborhood lined up each morning for a ride to school. Chris was smart.

No one I knew was given a car because they got good grades， because they behaved， or because“they simply existed as children.”

We all had chores， we were expected to have respect without rewards， and our parents 7）ruled the roost.

This meant that my sisters， my brother and I were all physically active. When we werent cutting grass， walking to the corner store to buy a gallon of milk for mom， or taking turns cleaning the bathrooms or sweeping out the shed， we played outside.

We knew it was time for dinner when the sun had nearly set， and that meant setting the table was a 8）tall order， as we scurried home sweaty and tired from hours of playing 9）dodge ball， 10）hopscotch and baseball games that we played without the cheers of our dads， because all of our dads worked.

All this work and play meant obesity was not a childhood 11）epidemic.

Neither was 12）ADHD， suicides due to bullying over the Internet， or 13）permanently curved spines because of over-texting and over-sexting.

There were no debates between children and their parents about buying the latest cell phone that parents could not even afford.

We didnt have a lot in the way of material things， but we were better for it.

As a kid， I still remember my annual trip to Sears to get my one pair of “back-to-school” shoes I was told had to last through the Holidays.

My girlfriends also showed off our two new 14）Marcia Brady dresses we were so proud of each fall， along with ribbons that decorated our braided hair we wore well through the second year of middle school.

新刈的草儿的气息就是我儿时邻里间最记忆犹新的味道。刈草的工作会由那些年纪轻轻的长着酒窝的男孩子在上学前或者放学后完成，不过大部分时候是在周末，在街头天真无忧地骑自行车与棍球游戏之间的时段进行。

在某个日子，你可能会看到克里斯、布伦特或者菲利普一边吹着口哨，一边为安德森家、波特纳家或者伍德家刈草。伍德家有间黄色大房子，还有七条伸着舌头的狗。不时地，他们会用年轻却起了茧子的手擦去眉宇间的汗水。

“我活干完了，就到码头找你啊。”克里斯会对菲利普喊道，我们通常称他为菲利。

菲利不答话，只是扬起他的一只手，因为他自己也是一位厉害的刈草好手，他希望专心赚他的2.5美元时薪，好攒起来买辆新的施文自行车。

这些男孩儿顶多十三到十四岁，还未成年，但也不再是那些嫩手嫩脚、不知疲倦地追着雪糕车来寻求童年清凉快乐的小孩了。

在我们生活的街道上，孩子们要不要做他们的分内事这样的问题可不会出现在任何人的头脑中。

我父亲常常回忆起他的第一份工作就是当报童，然后就是在加油站当服务员。他跟我们说，投入工作、赚到“第一笔小费”以及第一份薪水，用自己的一分一毫买一瓶汽水或者漫画书，没有什么比这些让人感觉更棒的了。

我母亲四岁起就在她们家的农场帮忙，二战的时候在夏威夷广阔无垠的天空下摘熟了的咖啡豆。她和四个兄弟姐妹一边工作，一边哼着自己编的关于学校、关于朋友和共同梦想的歌儿。

菲利最后买到了那辆自行车，忍不住在我家门口每天至少转悠两次，为了让我看见，他会跃过路缘，把头发弄乱。

布伦特为能供自己读完大学而攒着钱，因为他父亲跟他说“要是一项教育真的值得去求学的话，那就得把学费挣回来。”

至于克里斯，他一到可以开车的年纪就花掉所有积蓄买了一部1969年产的蓝色“道奇飞镖”。他拿到车后，每天早上，附近的女孩子都排着队儿要搭他的车上学。克里斯真够聪明的。

我认识的人中没有谁因为取得了好成绩或守规矩或因为“是爹娘的宝贝”而被奖励一辆车。

我们都有家务活儿，大人们希望我们得到精神尊重而非物质奖励，我们的家长说了算。

那意味着我和兄弟姐妹们个个手脚都动个不停。我们如果不是在屋外玩耍，那肯定就是在刈草，要不就是走路去街角商店给妈妈买上一加仑的牛奶，或者轮流打扫卧室、清洗棚屋。

我们知道太阳要落山的时候就是晚饭时间了，那意味着当我们玩了几小时的躲避球、“跳房子”游戏和棒球后，满身臭汗、累呼呼地跑回家时摆放餐具就成了件很痛苦的事儿。我们玩的时候，是没有爸爸为我们呐喊助威的，因为所有的爸爸都得工作。

所有这些活儿和玩耍意味着肥胖不可能成为孩子们的流行病。

小儿多动症也不存在，因为网络欺凌造成的自杀事件，或者由于过度发短信、色情短信而造成的永久性脊柱弯曲也不存在。

小孩和父母不会因为那些连父母都买不起的最新款手机而争吵不休。

在物质上，我们没有太多的东西，但我们过得更好。

小时候，我还记得每年我都要到西尔斯买一双“上学用”的鞋子，家人跟我说过什么节日都靠这双鞋子了。

我的女伴们也会炫耀我们的两套新的玛西娅·布兰迪裙子，这些裙子每年秋天我们都引以为傲，还要配上头上用来扎辫子的丝带。这些，我们会好好地用到上中学的第二年。

Boys used to smirk at us with their striped short-sleeved shirts， 15）corduroy pants， sun-kissed hair and shy-flirted glances.

There was a feeling of optimism in the air； a kind of solid and steady 16）cadence that followed us because we allowed it to， and because our parents treated us as their children， not as their friends.

My kids are at that magical age now.

Their minds are still clear， their curiosity 17）intact， and there is no inkling of 18）apathy or ungrounded 19）angst.

They say they want to work； that they want to do something meaningful when they get older， and that they believe that “almost anything” is possible.

I believe them， and thats the best thing I can do as their parent.

But whats important is that they know they must believe in themselves if anything worthwhile is going to happen.

On the streets where we live now…there are not so many lawns to mow， safe streets to play on， or open-ended hours to enjoy the sweat-filled days of youth until dusk.

Somehow， the days of youth are shorter because we have allowed them to be. Our new techno-fevered and furious pitch that we have decided is a normal and healthy culture has robbed the living daylights right out of our children.

But however long their childhood lasts， it is theirs， not mine， and I know they will find their own way， just like Chris， Brent and Phillip did； my three siblings and I， and my parents and their parents before them who were part of 20）The Greatest Generation.

The greatest gifts I can give my children are the freedom and learned joys of physical and emotional 21）autonomy， peppered with hard-fought work， personal responsibility and the sweat-filled days that only come with being young， bare-faced and naive.

男孩们常常对着我们傻笑，身上穿着条纹短袖衬衣，灯芯绒裤子，顶着一头阳光色的头发，露出羞赧挑逗的眼神。

空气中有一股乐观的气息，我们身后有一种坚实、稳定的节奏，因为我们允许这种节奏存在，也因为父母待我们为其子女，而不是朋友。

我的孩子如今也到了这个神奇的年龄。

他们的头脑依旧清晰，他们依旧好奇心十足，没有一点感情冷淡或者无缘无故焦虑不安的迹象。

他们说他们想去工作，他们想大一点儿的时候干点有意义的事，他们相信几乎一切皆有可能。

我相信他们，那是我作为母亲能做的最好的事。

但重要的是，他们知道一旦有值得去做的事情发生了，他们必须相信自己。

如今，我们住的这条街上，需要刈草的草坪不多了，能够安全地玩耍的街道或者能自由自在地享受挥汗如雨直到天黑的年轻日子也不多了。

不知何故，现在，年轻的日子短了，因为我们使然。我们将对新科技的痴迷和狂热认定为一种正常而且健康的文化，这种文化将我们孩子鲜活的时光偷走了。

但不管他们的童年有多长，那是他们的童年，不是我的，我知道他们会找到自己的方式，就像克里斯、布伦特和菲利普那样；像我和三个兄妹、我的父母和他们的父母那样，他们都是“最伟大的一代”的一部分。

我能给予孩子们最好的礼物是自由以及从身心独立中得来的快乐，其中伴以辛勤的工作、个人责任和挥汗如雨的日子，这些都只能从年轻、坦诚和天真中得来。

“Put your phones away， it is time to eat，” I said to my daughters one night as the 22）aroma of homemade spaghetti sauce blanketed our senses.

During dinner， sometimes I ask them what they learned in school； if they have any new friends， or if anything particularly interesting had happened they might want to share.

But usually we just sit in each others company， in the quiet and stillness of a family meal， enjoying the fleeting moments that I know they will remember together one day in concerted yearning and sweet 23）melancholy.

As I kissed one daughter on her windswept forehead after school yesterday， my heart swelled and my eyes teared as I knew my sleepless parented nights had not been in vain.

“I cant wait until college because Ill be able to choose the classes I want，” she said， with her heavy backpack in her arms and shoes naturally untied.

“That will be the best day of my life， and its only seven years away.”

As she continued to go on about college， and all of her innocence-filled life plans， all I could focus on were the words “only seven years away.”

Seven years away I thought.

Seven more glorious years to bask in the glow and the magic that is childhood.

“把你们的手机都拿开，到点吃饭了。”一天晚上，当我们家自制意粉酱的香味充满我们的嗅觉的时候，我对女儿们说道。

晚饭间，我有时会问她们在学校学到了什么；有没有结识新朋友或者有什么想分享的特别有趣的事。

但通常我们只是坐在一起，静静地无声地享用一顿家庭晚餐，享受着稍纵即逝的时刻，我知道有一天她们会一起在同样的渴望和甜蜜的伤感中回忆这些时光。

昨天，放学后，当我亲吻其中一个女儿那被微风吹拂过的前额时，我的心忍忍作痛，眼睛湿润了，因为我知道我照顾她们的那些无眠夜晚没有白费。

“我都等不及要上大学了，因为那样我就可以选择自己喜欢的课了。”她说道，手臂挂着沉重的书包，鞋子很自然地松开了。

“那将是我人生最好的时候，还差七年而已。”

当她继续说着关于大学，关于她空白人生的计划的时候，我所有的注意力集中在“还差七年而已”这几个字上。

还差七年，我想。

还有七个光辉的年头可以沐浴在璀璨与神奇的事物之中，而那就是童年。