相扶走过黑暗

Helping One Another

through the Dark

Christmas has really caught me by surprise this year. I need another week to prepare.Maybe it is because it looks more like March than December. Everything is all brown and soggy.

Saturday morning I pitched a fit and woke my husband and all the kids with loud Christmas music and made them help me. We picked up, vacuumed and mopped. My husband trimmed the tree so it would fit in the house. I wrapped it in lights, then got out my wooden Santas and lined them up on the mantel.

By the afternoon, everything looked a lot more like Christmas as I rushed out alone to a "ladies' tea" at Paradise Cove. I walked down the long drive with my headlamp on and could see the blinking lights strung on the generator shed before I heard its hum. Inside the handmade house, our hostess had her mother's china teacups out on the table. Candles burned in glass jars on the windowsills.

The invitation suggested we wear party hats, and about half the women did. Most of us were happy just to have made it to the tea, we were so busy, all the conversations seemed to begin with "Are you ready for Christmas?" answered by groaning nos. We even wondered out loud about what would happen if one year we simply didn't do Christmas.

Then our hostess asked us to form a circle. She gave a speech about healing and friendship and made a toast to one woman who is thankfully back home after a season of cancer treatments outside. I felt embarrassed about my petty complaints.

Then our hostess asked us to think kind thoughts for another one of us who was recently diagnosed with cancer and will begin her "healing journey" right after Christmas. While the first smiled knowingly, the other struggled to put a brave face on. She was still in shock. So was everyone else――most of us hadn't heard.

We were each asked to say a word of encouragement to our two friends. Our hostess, who wore a long, angelic dress, began by wishing them "love" and "hope" respectively.

I hate this kind of thing. I wanted to bolt--but as each woman spoke, I heard their words of comfort rising in the warm, flickering candlelight: "faith","courage"," strength","laughter","peace" and "grace". I also heard another voice, coming from someplace deep inside us and floating all around, whispering "fear not".

Near the end of the circle, a woman wished "roses" for the first cancer patient, who grows lovely flowers in her garden, and "raspberries" for the second, the tender of a prolific berry patch.

I thought. This is just like that first Christmas, when one angel was joined by" a multitude of the heavenly host".

I also wished I had taken the time to find a pretty hat or at least borrowed my daughter's old prom princess tiara, which that morning I had picked up in a complaining way from the floor of her room.

Then a basket of gifts was passed around --we each had brought one to share. I unwrapped a small, spicy candle, a light to shine in the darkness. As we said goodbyes and Merry Christmases, Happy Hanukkahs, I tucked the candle in the upper pocket of my jacket, next to my heart.

I guess I was thinking too much about darkness and light and angels because I almost walked right into a branch. Behind me, the daughter of the woman living with cancer helped her mother down the steps. They were laughing and holding hands. I remembered that Emily Dickinson poem about finding our way.

The Bravest

Grope a little

And sometimes hit a Tree

Directly in the Forehead

But as they learn to see

Either the Darkness alters

Or something in the sight

Adjusts itself to Midnight

And Life steps almost straight.

I found my headlamp, turned it on and picked up the pace. But a friend called for me to wait, to help her see the way, and so we walked together, back to the road and back to our cars and back to our homes, grateful for the love of friends, parents, husbands, children and all the many, many blessings of this life.

我总觉得今年的圣诞节有些奇怪，还得准备一个星期。可能是因为这氛围看上去像3月，而不是12月，一切都显得沉闷，令人心烦。

星期六早上，我把圣诞音乐的音量调到最大，以唤醒丈夫和孩子们，让他们帮忙打扫卫生。我们收拾房间，吸尘、拖地。丈夫修剪圣诞树，使其大小与房间相宜，我挂上彩灯做装饰，然后搬出木质的圣诞老人，在壁炉上放一排。

快到中午时，家里看起来有些圣诞节的气氛了。我独自冲出家门，去天堂海湾，参加一个“女士午茶”的聚会。我打开头上的小型照明灯，沿着车道走，还没有听见嗡嗡的发动机声，就远远看见房屋上闪耀的灯光。在手工建造的房子里，我们的女主人在桌子上已经摆好了她母亲的陶瓷茶杯，蜡烛已在窗台上的玻璃杯中燃烧。

邀请函建议我们都戴上聚会时的帽子，有一半的女人戴了。把聚会改成喝茶，我们大多都很高兴，大家都太忙了，“准备好过圣诞节了吗?”几乎成了所有谈话的开端，接着就是抱怨没有做好准备。我们甚至突发奇想，如果哪一年不过圣诞节，不知会发生什么事。

女主人让我们围坐成一圈。她淡到了疾病的康复和友谊，然后对一个身患癌症，在外面接受了一个季度的治疗后，终于回到家里的女人表示了祝福。我不禁对自己的琐碎抱怨汗颜。

然后女主人请求为我们当中的另一位癌症患者祝福，她是近期刚查出来的，将要在圣诞节后开始接受“治疗历程”。当第一个人勉强露出笑容时，另一个也努力做出勇敢的表情。她和大家一样，很震惊――我们都没有听说过。

我们都要对这两个朋友说句鼓励的话。我们的女主人，穿着长裙，如同天使，她分别对她们说了“爱”和“希望”。

我不喜欢这种场景，想要逃避――但是每位朋友送出祝福时，我能听到慰藉的话语在温暖、闪烁的烛光中升华：信念、勇气、力量、欢笑、安宁和雅致。我还听到内心深处共同发出的另一种声音说，“不要怕”。

在圈子的最后，一个女士祝福第一个患癌症的朋友，送她“玫瑰”两字，因为她的花园里种着美丽的鲜花。“山莓”赠给第二个朋友，因为她拥有大片的山莓地。

我想，这就像第一次圣诞节时，天使和天国的人们围坐在一起。

我希望有时间去找一顶漂亮的帽子，或者至少，借我女儿在舞会上戴的公主头饰。这头饰，那天早上我还抱怨着从她房间的地板上捡起来。

然后，一个礼物篮子传递开来――我们事先都准备了一份礼物来彼此分享。我打开盒子，一支小小的，带着香味的蜡烛在黑暗中闪闪发光。我们相互告别，互祝圣诞节快乐，光明节快乐，我把蜡烛放在夹克的上口袋，紧贴着我的心。

大概是想黑暗、光明、天使想得太多了，我差点走错了回家的路。在我身后，身患癌症的那位女士在她女儿的搀扶中走下台阶。她们笑着，手牵着手。我想起艾米莉・迪金森的一首有关“寻路”的诗：

最勇敢的人

在慢慢摸索

偶尔撞到树上

直直地撞到前额

但他们学着去观察

无论是改变黑暗

还是调整所看到的东西

去适应黑夜

生命的脚步永往直前

我找出头灯打亮，在灯光中加快了步伐。一个朋友叫我等一等，帮她照路，于是，我们一起走，回到路上，回到车中，回到了我们的家，心中充满了感激――对朋友、父母、丈夫、孩子的爱以及生命中的诸多赐福。