女儿的午餐袋

By+Robert+Fulghum

O ne morning， Molly handed me two bags. One regular lunch sack， and the one with the duct rape and staples and paperclips.

“Why two bags？”“The other one is something else.”“Whatsin it？”“Justsomestuff. Takeitwith you.”I stuffed both sacks into my briefcase， kissed the child， and rushed off.

At midday， while hurriedly scarfing down my real lunch， I tore open Mollys bag and shook out the contents. Two hair ribbons， three small stones， a plastic dinosaur， a pencil stub， a tiny seashell， two animal crackers， a marble， a used lipstick， a small doll， two chocolate kisses and 13 pennies.

Ismiled. How charming. Risingtohustleoff， I sweptthe desk clean into the wastebasket—leftover lunch， Mollys junkandall.TherewasntanythinginthereIneeded.

ThateveningMollycametostandbesidemewhileI was readingthepaper.“Wheres my bag？”“What bag？”“You know，theoneIgaveyouthismorning.”“Ileftitattheoffice， why？”“I forgot to put this note in it.”She handed over the note.“Besides，Iwantitback.”“Why？”“Thosearemythings in the sack， Daddy， the ones I really like. I thought you might like to play with them， but now I want them back. You didnt losethebag，didyou，Daddy？”Tearspuddledinhereyes.

“Oh， no， I just forgot to bring it home，”I lied.“Bring it tomorrow， okay？”As she hugged my neck with relief， I unfolded the note that had not gotten into the sack：“I love you，Daddy.”

Oh. And uh-oh. I looked long at the face of my child. She had given me her treasures—all that a 7-year-old held dear. Love in a paper sack， and I had missed it—not only missed it， but had thrown it away because“there wasnt anythingin thereI needed.”Itwasntthefirstor the last time IfeltmyDaddypermitwasabouttorunout.

It was a long trip back to the office， the pilgrimage of a penitent. I picked up the wastebasket and poured the contents on my desk. I was sorting it all out when the janitor cameintodohischores.

“Lose something？”“Yes， my mind.”“Its probably in there， all right. What does it look like and Ill help you find it.”I started not to tell him， but I couldnt feel any more of a foolthanIwasalready，soItoldhim.

He didnt laugh.“I got kids too.”So the brotherhood of fools searched the trash and found the jewels， and he smiled atmeandIsmiledathim.

Afterwashingthemustardoffthedinosaurandspraying the whole thing with breath freshener to kill the smell of onions， I carefully smoothed out the wadded ball of brown paper into a semi-functional bag and put the treasures inside. I carried the whole thing home gingerly， like an injured kitten. The next evening， I returned it to Molly. No questionsasked，noexplanationsoffered.endprint

After dinner， I asked Molly to tell me about the stuff in thesack，andsoshetookitalloutapieceatatimeand placed the objects in a row on the dining room table. Everything had a story， a memory， or was attached to dreams and imaginary friends. I managed to say“I see”very wisely several times. And，asamatteroffact，Ididsee.

To my surprise， Molly gave the bag to me once again several days later. Same ratty bag. Same stuff inside. I felt forgiven，andtrustedandloved.Andalittlemorecomfortable wearing the title of father. Over several months， the bag went with me from time to time. It was never clear to me why I did ordidnotgetitonagivenday.

In time Molly turned her attention to other things. She foundothertreasures，lostinterestinthegame，grewup.

Me？ I was left holding the bag. She gave it to me one morningandneveraskedforitsreturn.AndsoIhaveitstill.

Theworn paper sack istherein thebox. Leftfromatime when achild said，“Here， thisisthebestIvegot. Takeit， its yours.SuchasIhave，giveItothee.”

一天早上，女儿莫利递给我两个袋子。一个是每天的午餐袋，另一个是用粗胶带、订书针和几枚回形针封着的袋子。

“怎么有两个袋子呀？”“另一个装的是别的东西。”“里面是什么？”“只是一些东西，你带着嘛。”于是我把两个袋子都塞进了我的公文包，亲了亲孩子就赶忙出了家门。

中午时分，狼吞虎咽地吃完午餐后，我撕开了莫利的袋子，抖出里面的东西：两根发带、三颗小石子、一只塑料恐龙、一截铅笔头、一个小贝壳、两块动物状的薄脆饼干、一颗弹珠、一支用过的口红、一个小洋娃娃、两块巧克力糖和13美分。

我笑了。多可爱啊！我一边起身去忙，一边就把剩下的午餐和莫利这些杂七杂八的东西统统扫进了垃圾筐———没有我需要的东西。

那天晚上，当我读报纸的时候，莫利走过来站在我身旁。“我的袋子呢？”“什么袋子？”“你知道的，就是我早上给你的那个。”“我把它落在办公室了，怎么了？”“我忘了把这张纸条放进去了。”她递过纸条，“而且，我想把它要回来。”“为什么？”“爸爸，袋子里是我的东西，我非常喜欢的东西。我原来想你也许会喜欢玩这些东西，但是现在我想把它们要回来。你没把那个袋子丢了吧，爸爸？”她眼泪汪汪地说。

“哦，没有。我只是忘了把它带回家。”我撒谎道“，明天带回来，好吗？”当她宽慰地抱住我的脖子时，我打开那张没有放进袋子的纸条，上面写着：“我爱你，爸爸。”

噢，糟糕！我久久地望着孩子的脸。莫利把她的宝贝都给了我，一个七岁孩子珍爱的所有东西。纸袋里装着的是浓浓的爱意，而我忽视了它。不仅忽视，而且把它扔掉了，因为“里面没有我需要的东西”。这不是我第一次也不是最后一次感到自己作为父亲的资格几乎丧失殆尽。

回办公室的路很漫长，像一个悔罪者前往朝圣的旅途。我拎起垃圾筐，把里面的东西倒在我的办公桌上。当管理员来清扫时，我还在分拣。

“丢东西了吗？”“是的，我的心思。”“可能在那儿，没关系。它什么样？我帮你找。”我起初没有告诉他，但是我已然做了傻到不能再傻的事了，所以我还是告诉了他。

他没有笑：“我也有孩子。”于是我们这对傻兄弟在垃圾中寻找着失落的珍宝，他对我微笑，我也报之以微笑。

我洗掉恐龙身上的芥末，喷上空气清新剂以压过洋葱味，之后我仔细抹平那个揉皱了的棕色纸团，使之勉强成为一个纸袋，然后把宝贝放进去。我小心翼翼地把它带回家，就像带着一只受伤的小猫。第二天晚上，我把它还给了莫利。她没问什么，我也没有解释。

晚餐后，我让她给我讲袋子里东西的来历，于是她一件一件地把它们拿出来，在餐桌上摆成一排。每个都有一个故事、一段回忆，或是与梦和假想的朋友有关。我非常聪明地说了几次“我明白”，实际也的确如此。

令我惊讶的是，莫利几天后又把那个袋子给了我。同样破旧的袋子，装着同样的东西。我感到被原谅了，受到了信任，而且被深爱着，也对自己这个“爸爸”的头衔稍稍心安理得了一点。随后几个月里，这个袋子时不时会在我身边。我根本不清楚，哪一天她会把袋子给我或不给我。

终于有一天，莫利将兴趣转移到了别的东西上———发现了别的宝贝，不想玩这个游戏了，她长大了。

至于我呢？我一直保存着那个袋子。一天早上她把袋子给了我，再也没要回去。于是直到现在，我还保存着它。

那个破旧的纸袋就在盒子里。它来自于一个孩子，她说：“嘿，这些是我的宝贝，拿着它，它是你的了。就如我曾拥有过一样，现在我把它交给你了。”endprint