Karl's Garden-卡尔的花园

Karl’s Garden|卡尔花园

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The sight of him walking alone

down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp1 from a bullet wound received in WWII.

Watching him, we worried that, although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our

changing uptown2 neighborhood with its ever-increasing random3 violence, gangs4, and drug

activity.

When he saw the flyer5 at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens

behind the minister’s residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming6 manner.

Without fanfare7, he just signed up.

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally

was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring

their attempt to intimidate8 him, he simply asked, “Would you like a drink from the hose?”

The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, “Yeah, sure,” with a malevolent9 little

smile. As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl’s arm, throwing him down. As

the hose snaked crazily10 over the ground, dousing11 everything in its way, Carl’s assailants12

stole his retirement watch and his wallet, then fled. Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been

thrown down on his bad leg.

He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him. Although the

minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn’t get there fast enough to stop it.

“Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?” the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.

Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head. “Just some punk13 kids. I

hope they’ll wise-up someday.” His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the

hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, “Carl, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got to finish my watering. It’s been very dry lately,” came the calm reply. Satisfying

himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel14. Carl was a man from a

different time and place.

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before, their threat was unchallenged15. Carl

again offered them a drink from his hose.

This time they didn’t rob him. They wrenched16 the hose from his hand and drenched17 him

head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation18 of him, they sauntered19

off down the street, throwing catcalls20 and curses, falling over one another laughing at the

hilarity21 of what they had just done.

Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and

went on with his watering.

The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by

the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches.

As he struggled to regain his footing22, he turned to see his summer tormentors’ 23 tall leader

reaching down for him.

He braced24 himself for the expected attack. “Don’t worry, old man. I’m not gonna hurt you

this time.” The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed25 and scarred hand to Carl.

As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled26 bag from his pocket and handed it to

Carl.

“What’s this?” Carl asked.

“It’s your stuff,” the man explained. “It’s your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet.”

“I don’t understand,” Carl said. “Why would you help me now?”

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease27. “I learned something

from you”, he said. “I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you

were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead

of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn’t hate us for hating you. You

kept showing love against our hate.” He stopped for a moment. “I couldn’t sleep after we stole

your stuff, so here it is back.”

He paused for another awkward28 moment, not knowing what more there was to say. “That

bag’s my way of saying thanks for straightening me out29, I guess.” And with that, he walked off

down the street.

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly30 opened it. He took out his retirement

watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He

gazed for a moment at the young bride who still smiled back at him from all those years ago.

Carl died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of

the weather. In particular, the minister noticed a tall young man he didn’t know sitting quietly in a

distant corner of the church. The minister spoke of Carl’s garden as a lesson in life. In a voice

made thick with unshed31 tears, he said, “Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you

can. We will never forget Carl and his garden.”

The following spring another flyer went up. It read: “Person needed to care for Carl’s garden.”

The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners32 until one day a knock was heard at the

minister’s office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands

holding the flyer. “I believe this is my job, if you’ll have me,” the young man said.

The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and

wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl’s kindness had turned this man’s life around. As the minister

handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, “Yes, go take care of Carl’s garden and honor

him.”

The young man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and

vegetables just as Carl had done. During that period, he went to college, was married, and became

a prominent33 member of the community34. But he never forgot his promise to Carl’s memory

and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he could no longer care for the garden.

He explained with a shy and happy smile, “My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she’s

bringing him home on Saturday.”

“Well, congratulations!” said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. “That’s

wonderful! What’s the baby’s name?”

“Carl,” he replied.

卡尔是一个沉默人，寡言少语。他遇见人总是面带笑容紧紧握住人家手，算是打招呼。我们毗邻而居已经50多年了，即使如此还没有谁敢说很了解卡尔。

卡尔退休以前，每天早晨都乘公共汽车去上班。每每看到他独自一人走在街上时候，我们常常为他担心。因为，在二战中，一颗子弹打伤了他一条腿，使他至今走起路来仍有点儿跛。看着他，我们都担心尽管他从二战中死里逃生，但在如今我们这个暴力、帮派活动、贩

毒日益猖獗居民区里他却未必能熬得过去。

有一天，他看到我们当地教堂里有一份征求志愿者照料牧师住宅区后花园布告。他以自己惯有方式，没有四处招摇悄悄地低调报了名。

此后，他一直很好。但是，到他87岁那年，我们一直担心事情终于发生了。那天，他刚给花园浇完水，就看见有3个不良少年向他靠了过来。他故意装作视而不见他们那威胁性企图，只是问道：“你们想从水管里喝点水吗？”

“是，当然。”三个人中个子最高、身体最强壮家伙不怀好意地笑着说。当卡尔把水管递给他时候，另外两个家伙却乘势抓住了卡尔胳膊，把他摔倒在地。他手中拿着水管也摇摇晃晃地掉在了地上。顿时地上一切都浸泡在了水里。袭击他那三个家伙抢走了他退休时发手表和他钱包，逃走了。卡尔想试着自己站起来，可他摔着了那条伤腿.

牧师跑过来帮他时候，他正躺在那里，想要聚集全身力气站起来。尽管刚才牧师从窗户里看到了卡尔被袭击，但是，他却赶不及阻止他们。“卡尔，你感觉怎么样？你受伤了吗？”牧师一边扶卡尔站起来，一边不停地问道。

卡尔一只手抚摸着额头，叹息着摇摇头，说：“哎，只是一些年幼无知孩子。我希望他们有朝一日能有所悔悟。”湿透衣服紧紧地裹在他那瘦弱身躯上，他一边说一边弯腰捡起水管，调节好龙头，又开始浇花了。

牧师感到非常纳闷，于是略带一些关心地问道：“卡尔，你在干什么？”

“哦，我必须给花儿浇透水。最近天气非常干燥。”他平静地答道。知道卡尔没事了，牧师放心了，只不过感到非常惊异。卡尔简直就像是来自他时代外星人.

几个星期之后，那三个少年又来了。就像上次一样，他们威胁恐吓没有遭到任何反抗。卡尔再次邀请他们从他水管里喝水。

这次，他们没有抢劫他。他们从卡尔手里抢过水管，用那冰凉水把他从头到脚浇透了。他们羞辱完卡尔，便尖叫着，咒骂着，东倒西歪地互相搀扶着，顺着街道扬长而去，一边还为他们刚才“胡闹”大笑不已。

卡尔只是默默地看着他们，随后转过身，迎着温暖阳光，拾起水管，继续浇花。

转眼，夏去秋来。一天，当卡尔正在花园里松土时候，突然有一个人来到了他身后，让他吃了一惊。他被绊了一下，跌倒在一些常青植物枝叶上。当他挣扎着想站起来时候，却看到那个曾在夏天伤害过他三人中高个子头目正弯腰靠近他。

他支撑住身体等着再次被袭击。“老人家，别担心！这次我不会伤害你。”年轻人一边温和地说，一边还把他那布满文身和伤疤手伸向卡尔。

他扶着卡尔站起来后，就从自己衣兜里拽出一个皱巴巴包，递给卡尔。

“这是什么？”卡尔问。

“这是您东西，”年轻人解释道，“您东西物归原主。您钱还在钱包里。”

“我不明白，”卡尔问道，“为什么现在你会帮助我？”

年轻人挪了挪脚，看上去非常窘迫不安。“我从您这儿学到了很多东西，”他说,“过去，我和那帮人混在一起，到处去伤害像您这样人。我们之所以选择您，是因为您年龄大，而且我们知道我们根本不用费什么劲。但是，每当我们对您做过那些不义之事后，您不但没有大喊大叫还击我们，还给我们水喝。您没有因为我们对您不义而憎恨我们，您总是向我们展示您宽宏大量！”他停了一会儿，继续说，“自从我们抢了您东西以后，我每天都睡不好觉，所以我现在把它还给您。”

他尴尬地又停了一下，不知道还要说些什么。“我想，还给您这个包是表示我对您感谢，因为是您让我改邪归正。”说完，他就沿着街道远去了。

卡尔看着手中包，小心翼翼地打开了它。他拿出那块退休时发手表，戴回手腕上。他打开钱包，到了他结婚照片。他凝视着照片上那年轻新娘，她依旧像多年前那样笑着看他。

就在那年圣诞节后一个寒冷冬日，卡尔去世了。虽然天气寒冷，但是许多人都参加了他葬礼。不仅如此，牧师还注意到有一个他不认识高个子年轻人正静静地坐在教堂一个偏僻角落里。牧师把卡尔花园当作生活中一课告诉人们。他强忍着眼中泪水，嗓音沙哑地说：“让我们尽自己最大努力，把各自花园浇灌得更加美丽。我们永远不会忘记卡尔和他花园！”

第二年春天，教堂里又贴了一张布告，上面写着：“急需一名志愿者前来照料卡尔花园。”来做礼拜人都忙忙碌碌，因此这张布告一直都没有引起人们注意。直到有一天，有人敲响了牧师办公室门。牧师打开门，看到一双满是伤疤和文身手正拿着那张布告。“我想，这就是我想要工作，如果您接受我话。”那个年轻人说。

牧师立刻就认出他就是那个把抢走手表和钱包还给卡尔年轻人。他知道正是卡尔善良改变了此人生活。于是，牧师拿出花园小屋钥匙递给他，说：“去吧，好好照顾卡尔花园，好好保持他荣誉。”

于是，这个年轻人走进了卡尔花园。在那以后几年里，他始终尽心尽责照顾着花园里一草一木，就像卡尔以前做那样。在这期间，他读了大学，结了婚，而且成为社区里一名杰出人士。尽管如此，他始终都没有忘记许给卡尔诺言，自始至终尽力把花园保持得像想象中卡尔所能保持那样美丽。

有一天，他走到新来牧师跟前说今后不能再照顾花园了。他面带幸福微笑，羞涩地解释道：“昨天晚上，我妻子刚刚生了个男婴，星期六她就要把宝宝带回家了。”

“噢，恭喜你！”牧师一边说一边接过花园小屋钥匙。“太好了！孩子叫什么名字？”

“卡尔。”他答道。

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