happiest

英语故事

TheHappiestBoyintheWorld

OnewarmJulynightJuliowaswritinga

letterto-ofallpeople-hislandlord，bout

hissonJowhowantedtogotoschoolinMansalay，thetown

whereKaPonsolived.

TheyhadmovedheretotheislandofMindoroabout

ayearagobecauJuliohadbeenunabletofindanylandof

s，hethoughthimlfluckywhenKa

Ponsoagreedtotakehimonasatenant.

“DearCompadre，”before，

ohadhappenedto

beintheneighborhoodandofferedtobethebaby’sgodfather.

waswritinginTagalog，bendingearnestlyoverapieceofpaper

tornoutofhisson’sschoolnotebook.

Itwasmanymonthssincehehadhadawriting

swhenhehadgonetothe

municipalofficeinMansalaytofileahomesteadapplication.

Thenhehadudapenand，tohissurpri，hadbeenable

ghadcomeofthe

application，althoughKaPonsohadassuredhimhehadlooked

，

usingapencilinsteadofapen，Juliowassurehecouldmake

hislatterlegibleenoughforKaPonso.

“It’saboutmyboyJo，”hewrote.“He’sin

thesixthgradenow.”Hedidn’taddthatJohadhadtomiss

ayearofschoolsincecomingheretoMindoro.“Sincehe’s

quiteapoorhandatlookingafteryourcarabaos，Ithought

itwouldbebestthathegotoschoolinthetown.”

ittingon

thefloorwritingoneendofthelongwoodenbenchthatwas

ch

ight，

toowashere，sprawledbesideasackofun-huskedricebythe

eenoutallafternoonlookingforoneofKa

Ponso’scarabaosthathadstrayedawaytothenewlyplanted

ewas

snoringlightly，welve

yearsold.

Theyellowflameofthekeronelampflickered

ksmelloffood，mainlyfishbroth，that

hadbeenspilledfrommanyabowlanddriedonthebenchnow

starkfactoftheirpoverty，ifJulio’snaturehadbeen

nsitivetoit，mighthavestruckhimahardandsuddenblow；

butasitwas，hejustlookedabouttheroom，evenasthe

smellassailedhisnostrils，andstaredamomentatthe

hewentonwithhisletter.

“ThisboyJo，compadre，”hewrote，“isquite

youcanmakehimdoanythingyou

wish，ookrice，andI’msurehe’ddowell

washingdishes.”

JuliorecalledhislastvisittoKaPonso’splace

aboutthreemonthsago，bighou

orsweresopolishedyoucould

almosteyourownimageunderyourfeetasyouwalked，and

therewasalwaysarvantwhofollowedyouaboutwitharag

towipeawaythesmudgesofdirtthatyourfeetleftonthe

floor.

“Ihopeyouwillnotthinkofthisasagreatbother，”

Juliocontinued，

hadavaguefearthatKaPonsomightnotregardhisletter

roteon，slowlyandsteadily，stopping

onlyfromtimetotimetoregardwhathehadwritten.“Weshall

repayyouforwhateveryoucandoforus，’strue

thatwealreadyoweyouformanythings，butmywifeandI

willdoallwecanindeedtorepayyou.”

Rereadingthelastntenceandrealizingthathe

hadmentionedhiswife，Juliorecalledthatduringthefirst

monthaftertheirarrivalheretheyhadreceivedfivelarge

ehadbeentoldthat

atharvesttimehewouldhavetopaybacktwicethatamount.

Perhapsthiswasusury，butitwasstrictlyinkeepingwith

thecustominthoparts，andJuliowasnotthesortto

s，heneverthoughtofKaPonsoasanything

otherthanhisspiritualcompadre，astheysay，histrue

friend.

SuddenlyhebeganwonderinghowJowouldactin

KaPonso’shou，unaccustomedashewastosomanythings

mightevenstumbleoverachairandbreaksome

dishes....Onandonwenthisthoughts，worryingaboutthe

boy.

“AndIwishyouwouldtreatJoasyouwouldyour

ownson，beathimifhedoessomethingwrong.

Indeed，Iwanthimtolookuptoyouasacondfather.”

Juliofeltthathehadnothingmoretosay，that

ment

thefingersofhisrighthandfeltnumb，andthiswasafunny

thing，hethought，sincehehadscarcelyfilledthepage.

Heleanedbackagainandsmiledtohimlf.

Well，eared

hewasdone，and，

itemed，tdayhemustnd

Jooffwithit.

Aboutsixo’clockthefollowingmorning，aboyof

twelvewasridingacarabaoalongtheriverbedroadtotown.

Hemadeaverypunyloadonthecarabao’g

clobehindthecarabao，thefatheraccompaniedhimasfar

ebeasthesitatedtocross

thesmallrivuletthatcuttheroadasitpasdaclumpof

bamboo，

hehandedthesticktotheboy，asonemightgiveaprecious

gift.

Thefatherdidn’tcrossthestream，butonlystood

thereonthebank.“Mindthatyoutakecareoftheletter，”

hecalledoutfromwherehestood.“Doyouhaveittherein

yourshirtpocket？”

hadfoundthe

letter，hecalled：“No，Tatay，Iwon’tloit.”

“Andtakegoodcareofthecarabao，”Julioadded.

“I’llcometotownmylfinadayortwotogetitback.

Ijustwanttofinishtheplantingfirst.”

ThenJuliostartedwalkingbackhome，thinkingof

ng，hecalled

outtohimagain.“Andthatletter，”heshouted.“Besure

good

er-everything.”

Fromatopthecarabao，Joyelledback：“Yes，

Tatay，yes，”edtohissaddlewereasmall

terwas

ustomaryforschoolboys

fromthebarrioorfarmtoprovidesthemlvesinthissimple

’sca，evenifhewasgoingtoliveatKa

Ponso’s，Juliodidnotwantittobesaidthathehadforgotten

thislittlematterofthefirstweek’sfood.

Nowtheboywasoutofhisfather’ssight，

concealedbyastandoftallhempplants，theirgreenleaves

ngofhisfather，Jo

grewsuddenlycuriousabouttheletterinhisshirtpocket.

Hestoppedhiscarabaounderashadytreebytheroadside.A

birdsanginabushcloby，andJocouldhearitashe

readtheletter.

Jumpingfromwordtoword，hefounditdifficult

tounderstandhisfather’sdialectnowthathesawitin

hemeaningofeachntencebecameclearto

him，sthough

hewasthehappiestboyintheworldandthatbirdwassinging

heardthetinklingofthestream

ldemed

fullofbirdsongandmusicfromthestream.