美国故事 SENEWS-2007-0908-FEATURE(在线收听

Now, the Special English program American Stories.

Today, we bring you the second part of the story Golden Wedding written by Ruth Suckow. Last week we told you about Mr. and Mrs. Willie, they felt old and thought nobody cared about them. Then to their great surprise, their children gave them a lovely party to celebrate their fifty years of marriage - their golden wedding anniversary! And what a dinner it was! Here is Shirley Griffith to tell you about it.

Everyone was there, children and grand children and friends - everyone! And it was for them, for her and Pa. Like Pa say they were old that no one cared about them, how silly! This day was just as wonderful as she had hoped. All these people were here to honor her, to show that her life was important. All around the table faces smiled, everyone ate and said how good it was. The women try to stop their husbands from eating too much, but the men laughed. They said that this was the one time they could eat as much as they wanted. After all, a golden wedding dinner did not happen every day.

Then the grand daughters brought great dishes of icecream and chocolate sauce. But before they started to eat there was silence again. Mrs. Willie knew what was going to happen, her mouth shook a little.

“sh, sh” someone said. Daughter Clara got out from her seat, her voice was high, her cheeks red. “Friends, as long as this is our mother's and father's golden wedding day, now we can ask Mother to cut the wedding cake.” Mr. Baxter said, “That's right. Let the bride do it.” Then every one laughed and said, “The bride.” Mrs. Willie took the knife and cut the golden cake - rich and yellow. Mr. Baxter stood up again and said, “And now, I have been asked by all these good people to present a gift. May you always remember this, Mr. and Mrs. Willie, it means the love of your children and neighbors. It means the honor they do you on your 50th wedding day." He took a package and gave it to Mr. Willie. Mr. Willie took the paper off. There was a large silver cup. The sun shone warmly on the metal. And now to everyone's surprise, Mr. Willie smiled and began to speak. He remembered when he first came to Iowa. ''In those days'', he said, ''a wedding wasn't so special. Two people just drove into town, got married and that was all.'' That was how he remembered his wedding day. Everyone laughed. They all looked at the cup, it had the names "Aisha Willie & Angie Pilgrim Willie'' on it, and the date "1874--1924 , 50 years".

Finally, it was time to leave the table. The granddaughters went to the kitchen to wash the dishes, the others went into the parlor. Everybody felt the warmth and happiness of the food and the ceremony at the table. Mrs. Willie sat, she felt that she would never be tired again. Her spirit was so happy, so free, her body was like air, and best of all, the day was still young.

They listened to music and they talked, then there were shouts from the road. One of George's sons came running into the house. His face was red from the cold. " Well, Grandma and Grandpa, do you want a sleigh ride?" They could hear sleigh bells ringing. The horses out there were all ready. The others laughed. Yes, there was the sled. It was brightly colored and covered with bells. Two big black horses stood there. They stamped their feet and shook their heads. They seemed to be saying, " Let's go!" Mr. and Mrs. Willie found themselves being pushed outside. They put fur rugs over their knees. They were warm and excited. On the back of the sleigh was a sign. It said, "Just married." And it had white ribbons and bells on it. All the guests ran outside and waved goodbye.

The road was hard with snow. The sky was the brightest blue. Everything seemed brighter today. The hills looked silvery. They drove into town, people waved and shouted. It was a lovely ride into town in nearby. After a time they came back to the farmhouse, but now Mrs. Willie knew that the day was almost over. The sun became weak and the snow looked pale blue. Many guests had gone, only the family was left.

Mrs. Willie felt cold now and her eyes were a little red and her hands felt stiff. They sat in the parlor, the older people seemed tired. They talked, the men in one group and the women in another. Then some of the women went to the kitchen, they made supper. No one thought he could eat again. But when they sat down, it tasted good. Mrs. Willie was becoming very tired. She could hardly sit up at the table. As soon as supper was over, George got ready to take the Willies home.

In the sled, Mrs. Willie felt so tired that she didn't even look around her. It was warm under the furs. The horses hoof made a soft noise, "plop, plop, plop", like a song. They were all surprised when the sleigh stopped.

"Are we home?" asked Mrs. Willie.
"Sure. Where did you think you were?" said George.

He lifted her over the side of the sleigh. Then he put her down. Her legs were stiff. She could hardly make her feet move.

Her house looked strange. It was quiet and empty. No light came from the windows, no smoke from the chimney. It was cold, George made a fire. There was nothing to do but to go to bed. It took Mrs. Willie a long time to put away her best things. Mr. Willie was already in bed. He wanted to go to sleep. But she did not. She wanted to think about this day, this wonderful day. It was so quickly gone and would no come again. Now alone together they had so little to say.

The room was too close, too well known and their knowledge of each other was too strong. They could not talk about happy things in a happy way. She did not like to think so but it was true. She tried to hold the joy of the day, she said, "The cake was nice, wasn't it? Em? The cake, it was nice."

"Emm, yes. Aren't you ready yet? "

It was no use. He would never talk about things. She kept putting away her dress and her pins. She wanted to sit and talk about the whole day, to pick out and taste again the most beautiful moments. But he wanted to put out the lights and go to sleep. Oh why wouldn't he ever talk about things with her?

She looked out the window, the night was still and cold. Blue and wildly shadows darkened the pale snow. And because she could not share her feelings with him, she felt an old unhappiness. It turned her joy to a gray color, the gray color of everyday life.

He called out, "Well Ma, aren't you ever coming to bed?"

Then she put out the light and got into bed. Now he was at rest and soon fell asleep. She lay still, holding on to the things in her mind. They were deep things without words or form. She had done this on so many other nights. She had no both joy and sadness. She had lain there and held them, understood them. And now, she was not unhappy. She was calm. She was not even angry that he fell asleep, leaving her with her own plots, quiet and alone.

You have just heard the final part of Golden Wedding. It was written by Ruth Suckow. It appeared in the book Iowa Interiors published by Alfred A. Knopf Incorporated. Your storyteller was Shirley Griffith. The Voice of America invites you to listen again next week at the same time to another American story told in Special English. This is Steve Ember.
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