富有更好

The winter wind bit through my coat butdidn’t dampen1 my cheerfulness as I carriedmy four jars2 of home-canned tomatoes intothe church basement. Excited to take part infeeding the less fortunate3 in our communityat Christmas， I joined my school classmatesas we boxed the goods for delivery4.

That year， we went to Bobby’s house.He was one grade ahead of me in school，but I never knew he was poor. When wetook the box inside the small house， I sawbedrooms had been created by hangingsheets over ropes. Bobby came home whilewe were there， blushed5， and disappearedbehind a divider.

My heart ached for him. Even as aseven-year-old， I understood embarrassment.After we returned to the church， my teacherpulled me aside. I thought she was going todiscuss Bobby’s situation， but she didn’t.

“Linda， we collected a lot of food thisyear. You have a large family. Why don’tyou take this extra box home with you？”She picked up the cardboard container，expecting me to accept the food.

“No. That’s for poor people.”

“All people need help at times，”shesaid.“

“Well， we don’t.”I pushed open the doorand walked three blocks to myhouse.

Were we poor？ I began to look at ourfamily with what I considered impartial6，grown-up eyes and concluded that we weredefinitely poor.

My mother never suffered fools， andshe didn’t tolerate7 whining8. After twodays， she asked to know why I’d beenmoping9.

“We’re poor.”

“Who said that？”she asked.

“Nobody said it. I figured it out.”Icouldn’t look her in the eye. She’d beenhiding this important truth from us.

“Why do you think we’re poor？”

I listed reasons， becoming bolder10 asI elaborated11 on my realizations.“Thechurch wanted to give us food. We don’thave a car， only a pick-up， and we have toride in the back when we go places. Theteachers offered to buy us shoes for thisschool year. And most of the clothes in mycloset are hand-me-downs from a girl inmy class. I never thought about it， butwhat if people are laughing about mewearing her clothes？”

“Are you done？”

I wracked12 my brain for otherexamples but came up with none.

My mother poured a cup of coffee andsat at the kitchen table. Maybe she hadn’tknown what people thought about us.

She stirred in a spoonful of sugar andsipped13. “We are not poor. We areexceedingly14 rich.”

This statement got my attention， and Igrabbed a chair.“We are？”

“Do you have a healthy body？ Canyou run and play without any problem？”

I nodded. I was the fastest girl in ourclass.

“Do you have a good mind？ Are you agood reader？ Is there a library where youcan learn about anything that interests you？”

I nodded again. My mother oftenreminded us that she only had an eighth -grade education， but she expected every oneof her seven children to earn collegedegrees. I now felt embarrassed aboutbringing up the subject.

“Do you ever go to bed hungry？”Sheput down her cup. “I know you don’t. Wehave a wonderful garden， and you eat wellyear-round. Canned food doesn’t taste asgood as home-grown. I should buy some tinsjust to prove it.”

“But the rich people buy their food incans，”I protested.

“Because they don’t have gardens. Peoplein some places in the world don’t get enough toeat. You do. And people in some places in theworld don’t have many clothes， hand-me-downsor not. Clothes aren’t important.”

“But people think we’re poor.”

“Well， they’re wrong. You get to goto school and play， while some children inthis world have to work. You’re free. Youcan go where you want to go， and pursue15any dream you can imagine. You are notpoor！ You’re rich！ I expect you toremember that every day of your life.”

I never brought up the subject again.

Now that I’m older， I marvel16 at theriches we enjoyed， even on Christmaseswhen there weren’t many presents underthe tree.

I’ve often heard the saying，“I’vebeen rich， and I’ve been poor. Rich isbetter.”

I know rich is better， for I’m anexceedingly wealthy woman.

“琳达，我们今年收集了很多食物。你有一个大家庭。你为什么不把这个多余的一箱带回家呢？”她拿起纸板箱，希望我能接受这些食物。

“不，那是给穷人的。”

“所有人都有需要帮助的时候。”她说。

“好啦，我们不需要。”我推开门，走了三个街区回到我家。

我们穷吗？我开始用我认为公正、成熟的眼光审视我们的家庭，并得出结论，我们肯定很穷。

我母亲从不容忍愚蠢的人，她也不容忍抱怨。两天后，她问我为什么一直闷闷不乐。

“我们很穷。”

“谁说的？”她问道。

“没人说。我自己想出来的。”我无法直视她的眼睛。她一直在向我们隐瞒这个重要的真相。

“你为什么认为我们很穷？”

我列出了原因，在详细阐述我的认识时变得更加大胆。“教堂想给我们食物。我们没有车，只有一辆皮卡车，去哪儿都得坐在后面。老师们主动提出给我们买本学年的鞋子。我衣柜里的大部分衣服都是班上一个女孩给我的。我从来没有想过，但如果人们嘲笑我穿她的衣服怎么办？”

“你说完了吗？”

我绞尽脑汁想找其他的例子，但一个也没有想出来。

我母亲倒了一杯咖啡，坐在厨房的桌子旁。也许她不知道人们对我们的看法。

她搅拌了一勺糖，啜饮着。“ 我们并不贫穷。我们非常富有。”

这个说法引起了我的注意，我抓来一把椅子。“我们是吗？”

“你的身体健康吗？你能没有任何问题地奔跑和玩耍吗？”

我点了点头。我是班上跑得最快的女生。

“你有好的头脑吗？你善于阅读吗？有没有图书馆可以让你了解任何你感兴趣的东西？”

我又点了点头。我母亲经常提醒我们，她只受过八年级的教育，但她希望她的七个孩子中的每一个都能获得大学学位。现在提起这个话题我感到很尴尬。

“你曾经饿着肚子上床睡觉吗？”她放下杯子。“我知道你没有。我们有一个很棒的花园，你全年都吃得很好。罐头食品的味道不如自家种植的好。我应该买一些罐头来证明这一点。”

“但是有钱人买罐头食品。”我反驳道。

“因为他们没有花园。世界上有些地方的人吃不饱。而你吃得饱。世界上有些地方的人没有几件衣服，不管是不是二手货。衣服不重要。”

“但人们认为我们很穷。”

“哎呀，他们错了。你可以上学和玩耍，而这个世界上的一些孩子必须工作。你是自由的。你可以去你想去的地方，追求你能想象的任何梦想。你不穷！你很富有！我希望你生命中的每天都记住这一点。”

我再也没有提起这个话题。

现在我长大了，我对我们所享受的财富感到惊讶，即使是在圣诞树下没有太多礼物的圣诞节。

我经常听到这样一句话：“我富有过，我贫穷过。富有当然更好。”

我知道富有更好，因为我是一个非常富有的女人。