[美]萨拉·A.里弗斯/Sarah A.Rivers
圣诞节那天，父母家中满是亲朋好友的欢声笑语。烤火鸡、南部烘火腿和自家烘烤的面包香气扑鼻；到处都摆放着给孩子、年轻人、父母和祖父母们坐的桌椅；每个房间都装饰得流光溢彩。每个人都很怀念与父母共度的圣诞节。
只是今年不同。11月26日，父亲不幸去世了，这是我们过的第一个没有他的圣诞节。母亲尽力做一个令大家满意的女主人，但我知道，这对于她来说是很困难的。我如鲠在喉，又开始考虑是否按原计划送她圣诞礼物，或许在没有父亲的情况下，这样的做法并不明智。早在几个月以前，我给父母亲各画了一幅肖像，并润色了一下。我打算把这作为圣诞礼物送给他们。这会使每个人都震惊的，因为我从来没学过美术，也从来没认真画过什么东西。是一种无法抵抗的内心冲动促使我去画的。肖像画得很像他们，可我对自己的绘画技术仍不自信。
—天，我正在画画时，一阵门铃声惊扰了我。我马上把画画的材料藏了起来，把门打开。使我惊讶的是，父亲独自慢慢地走了进来——他可一向都是在妈妈的陪伴下才来看我的。他嘴角上扬，笑着说道：“我们以前的清晨谈话真让我怀念。要知道，那是你决定离开我，投身另一个男人之前的事了！”其实，我结婚没多久，但我是家里唯一的女孩，是家里的宝贝。
我突然有要让他看看画像的想法，可又想给他一份圣诞惊喜。然而，总有一股无形的力量推动我与他共享此刻。父亲向我保证会严守秘密，而我仍执意要他先把眼睛闭上，然后我把画像放到画架上，说：“可以了，爸爸，现在看吧！”
他惊呆了，半天说不出话来。醒过神后，他走近画像仔细端详了一番，然后又退后远观。我努力控制着狂跳不止的心。最终，父亲的泪水夺眶而出，他喃喃道：“我简直不敢相信！这双眼睛如此逼真，目光似乎时刻追随着你——你妈妈真漂亮啊。让我给它们加外框，好吗？”
他的反应令我兴奋不已。第二天，我就开心地自己拿到店里装框了。
几星期后，也就是11月份的一个晚上，电话铃响了，一阵彻骨的寒意渗透我的周身。我拿起话筒，听到我那当医生的丈夫说：“我在急诊室。你父亲中风了，病情很糟，不过还活着。”
一连几天，父亲都处于昏迷状态。他去世的前一天，我还去医院看望他。我把手放在他的掌心里，问：“爸，你知道我是谁吗？”他小声地说：“你是我心爱的女儿啊。”这令所有人都很吃惊。
第二天他走了，我和母亲生命中的所有欢乐似乎都被他带走了。
最后我想起了给画像装框的事，感谢上苍，让父亲有机会在离世前看到了这些画。当店主告诉我，父亲到商店来过时，我很吃惊，父亲把装框的钱交了，还给它们做了礼品包装。因为我们还沉浸在悲伤中，我不打算把画像送给母亲。
虽然家里的顶梁柱倒了，但所有人还是在圣诞节那天聚齐了——努力营造欢快的气氛。当看到妈妈眼里的悲伤和无表情的面容时，我决定把我和爸爸的礼物送给她。
我看到她心不在焉地拆掉盒子外的包装纸。画像上系着一张小卡片。
看过画像，读完卡片后，她很激动。她从椅子上跳了起来，把卡片递给我看，并让我的兄弟们把画像对称地挂在壁炉上方，她后退了几步，端详了好久，而后，突然转过身来，眼里闪着晶莹的泪光，微笑着说：“我就知道，你们的爸爸会陪我们一起过圣诞节的！”
我望了一眼礼品卡上爸爸的笔迹：“孩子她妈——我们的女儿提醒了我为什么我如此幸福。我会永远凝望着你！——孩子她爸。”
On Christmas Day，all the joys of close family relationships were seen and felt throughout our parents’home.The smells of roasted turkey，southern-baked ham and homemade bread hung in the air.Tables and chairs were set up everywhere to accommodate toddlers，teenagers，parents and grandparents.Every room was lavishly decorated.No family member had ever missed Christmas Day with our mother and father.
Only this year，things were different.Our father had passed away on November 26，and this was our first Christmas without him.Mother was doing her best to be the gracious hostess，but I could tell this was especially hard for her.I felt a catch in my throat，and again I wondered if I should give her my planned Christmas gift，or if it had become inappropriate in my father’s absence.
A few months earlier I had been putting the finishing touches on portraits I had painted of each of my parents.I’d planned to give them as Christmas gifts.This would be a surprise for everyone，as I had not studied art or tried serious painting.There was an undeniable urge within that pushed me relentlessly to do this.The portraits did look like them，but I was still unsure of my painting techniques.
While painting one day，I was surprised by a doorbell ring.Quickly putting all my painting materials out of sight，I opened the door.To my astonishment，my father ambled in alone never before having visited me without my mother.Grinning，he said，“I’ve missed our early morning talks.You know，the ones we had before you decided to leave me for another man！”I hadn’t been married long.Also，I was the only girl and the baby of the family.
Immediately I wanted to show him the paintings，but I was reluctant to ruin his Christmas surprise.Yet something urged me to share this moment with him.After swearing him to secrecy，I insisted he keep his eyes closed until I had the portraits set on easels.“Okay，Daddy.Now you can look！”
He appeared dazed but said nothing.Getting up，he walked closer to inspect them.Then he withdrew to eye them at a distance.I tried to control my stomach flip-flops.Finally，with a tear escaping down one cheek，he mumbled，“I don’t believe it.The eyes are so real that they follow you everywhere and look how beautiful your mother is.Will you let me have them framed？”
Thrilled with his response，I happily volunteered to drop them off the next day at the frame shop.
Several weeks passed.Then one night in November the phone rang，and a cold chill numbed my body.I picked up the receiver to hear my husband，a doctor，say，“I’m in the emergency room.Your father has had a stroke.It’s bad，but he is still alive.”
Daddy lingered in a coma for several days.I went to see him in the hospital the day before he died.I slipped my hand in his and asked，“Do you know who I am，Daddy？”He surprised everyone when he whispered，“You’re my darling daughter.”
He died the next day，and it seemed all joy was drained from the lives of my mother and me.
I finally remembered to call about the portrait framing and thanked God my father had gotten a chance to see the pictures before he died.I was surprised when the shopkeeper told me my father had visited the shop，paid for the framing and had them gift-wrapped.In all our grief，I had no longer planned to give the portraits to my mother.
Even though we lost the patriarch of our family，everyone was assembled on Christmas Day—making an effort to be cheerful.As I looked into my mother’s sad eyes and unsmiling face，I decided to give her daddy’s and my gift.
As she stripped the paper from the box，I saw her heart wasn’t in it.There was a small card inside attached to the pictures.
After looking at the portraits and reading the card，her entire demeanor changed.She bounced out of her chair，handed the card to me and commissioned my brothers to hang the paintings facing each other over the fireplace.She stepped back and looked for a long while.With sparkling，tear-filled eyes and a wide smile，she quickly turned and said，“I knew Daddy would be with us on Christmas Day！”
I glanced at the gift card scrawled in my father’s handwriting.“Mother—Our daughter reminded me why I am so blessed.I’ll be looking at you always！—Daddy.”
