Chapter 33 little candle

The original color of his hair was difficult to guess, for it was now pure pearly silver. His stature is very thin, even shorter than the average Chinese.With white hair, no one would think that he is an American if viewed from behind—how I wish he was not.Every time, when I gazed at him with awe, I was always filled with jealousy, annoyance, and pain.Why, when I find a man endowed with all the virtues I admire, should he be an American?Why does the person who is so close to perfection in my heart not belong to my own nation? He was very old, sixty-seven, it was said.He also doesn't look younger than his age.Of course, if he also imitated the old Chinese man, sitting in a big recliner and playing with his grandson, chatting and drinking with people of average age in his spare time, or playing mahjong with reading glasses, then maybe he would not look so haggard. !

Everything on him is probably out of date for twenty years, thin-rimmed glasses, wide-leg pants, a pocket watch with a long chain, and a very weird suit in winter.Whenever we meet in the corridor, I always sneak a few glances at him, those old clothes never seem to show signs of improvement.I often wonder, how many pairs of these ridiculous pants does he have in his possession?Why can't I wear it forever? The creases on his neck were deep and thick, and the skin on his face was obviously tending to hang down.Thirty pounds of flesh would be needed to fill up those slack places again!He has a very pointed nose - that's about the only wrinkle he doesn't have.His eyes are clear and a little harsh, and his oblong and pointed face is lined with thin lips with sharp lines, and the corners of his mouth are stubbornly drawn downwards and sunken inwards.It made his whole appearance reveal a rare aristocratic temperament.

That year, I was in the second grade, and he came to the school.He's here to take over as head of the department.But just a few days after he came here, he put up a poster to recruit chorus members. At that time, I felt sorry for him from the bottom of my heart, but I also felt that he was too naive and unaware of the real situation.In fact, being the head of a department is enough, so why bother to find another way to suffer? Except for a few of the people he recruited, most of them couldn't even read the musical notation clearly.During the break at noon every day, they practiced in the classroom on the second floor by the side.A song has been sung over and over for a month, and everyone's ears are tired of hearing it, and they still can't sing it right.Later, I can't remember what kind of rally they were on the stage.It was the song that everyone had heard enough of.Mr. Lao Sang was so anxious that he directed and used the Suzhou dialect he had learned in mainland China to help, but the result was still not ideal.In fact, that failure was not a surprise-even I don't think he felt any surprise at all.

Unexpectedly, it was a beautiful spring evening four years later.This was invited to sit in the school's great hall.The purple-red velvet curtain slowly opened, the brilliant flower baskets were smiling on and off the stage, the program list weighed heavily in my hands, the elegant orchestra played on the stage, and the harmonious quartet lingered and filled the air.I can't help being surprised, I don't know, I really don't know, what kind of baton he's been using all these years. He is also a very careful person.At that time, the school dormitory hadn't been built yet, and when all the girls lived in a summer camp on the Yangming Mountain, there were a lot of grave bugs on the mountain, and we were often bruised.Once, he came to visit us on the mountain. After dinner, we all sat in the dining room, and his eyes were fixed on the two screen doors, watching how the passing classmates opened and closed them.In fact, most of the students just open the door without closing it.Many people just walk in and out, and then just let the automatic spring close it.He looked at it for a while, then stood up.I thought he was going to give a lecture on biology—he was studying biology—but he walked straight up to the screen door very seriously.

"Do you know why there are so many mosquitoes?" He looked around, but no one spoke. He pointed to the door that was not closed and said, "The door is not closed like this, so there must be a gap." He opened the doors again, closed the first of them, then closed the second firmly, and finally pulled hard.The screen door is closed, not even the air is trapped!He smiled with satisfaction, and silently retreated to his seat. I especially love seeing him sitting in the library.In the past two years, the school has continued to expand, and the work of the library is inevitably complicated and arduous. It really takes a lot of courage to rebuild a poor, unorganized, and unsystematic library?I really don't know why he got involved with this kind of work again.That year I was assigned to work as a student in the library, and I was horrified to find that all the old sequences needed to be edited.Every time, when compiling the bibliography, he always seems to be there.Quietly, wearing very clean light-colored clothes, sitting under a tall bookshelf, guiding the work very carefully.He looked very cautious, but also very happy.After a long time, when I walked into the library by chance, if he wasn't there, I seemed to be able to see a silver-haired shadow sitting there.Several times, I was very impulsive and wanted to tell him those four words - Haoshou Qiongjing.But I finally didn't say that it is a bit ridiculous to use words to explain to a person the truth that he has already understood and practiced.

I think he is very lonely, although he is so busy.Mrs. Sang has passed away for many years, and there is a Mrs. Sang Memorial Scholarship in the school.I used to get it when I was in fourth grade.That day, he met me in the office and spoke to me in the simplest sentences.He spoke very slowly, and often stopped to try to think of a simple word—later I gradually learned that this was his habit of speaking with Chinese people.In fact, his Suzhou dialect is pretty good, but for most students, listening to English is easier than listening to Suzhou dialect! "Oh, is that you?" He shook my hand, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I reminded him of his dead wife.I feel guilty for that.

"I want a picture of you," he said softly. "The person who donated wants to see you." "Okay," I gradually settled down, "I'll bring it to you next week." "I can pay for the photos to be developed." He smiled frankly. "No, I want to give it to you!" After that, I often nodded to him and said good morning or hello.After I graduated, I still stayed in school and had more opportunities to approach him.I just discovered that one of his clear eyes was blind!That day I sat in a school bus with him, and he got off at Zhongshan North Road.One of the teaching assistants in their department hastily stuck his head out of the window.

"Mr. Sang," he called, "take a taxi back today, don't take the bus anymore." He looked back, like a kid caught on the brink of making a mistake, and nodded with a mischievous smile. "You see, he is like this. He is sick and won't stop." The teaching assistant said to me, "and he is blind in one eye, and he is still running rampant on the street like this, which is worrying." I suddenly felt something choked my throat, he was blind in one eye!No wonder he was always so slow when he greeted people, no wonder he seemed so difficult when he went down the stairs.He must have endured a lot of pain, doing nothing, coveting everything, why bother!

"Only the wounded can comfort others" perhaps this is the only explanation God allowed him to be blind.When students have difficulties, they rarely do not bother him.I often see him bring a student into the office, and slowly say: "This boy needs help." When he speaks, he often bends his waist slightly, puts one hand on the student's shoulder, and his eyes shine through. Looking through the glasses, expressing such deep and sincere sympathy—so much so that I thought he could not have been blind, he always reminded me of a sentence: "There was never a man who was as straight as the man who stooped to help a child."

The only job he can't help with is probably writing letters of introduction for people who want to go abroad.Once, Wu came to me angrily. "I entrusted the wrong person. People say I'm too stupid," she said quickly, without allowing me to interrupt. "You know, people say that no one who asks him to write a letter of introduction will apply, and I have no hope. .I didn't know it beforehand, I just thought he was a good guy!" "You know, he also writes too honestly. Alas, this kind of believer really has no choice but to tell no lies." She continued, her momentum gradually weakening. "Tell me, how can you write a letter of introduction without bragging? Why are you so stubborn? Tell me, in this year..."

After she left, I was left alone in the office.In my imagination, I could see him sitting in the opposite office, facing the typewriter, deliberating letter by letter, and wanted to write an honest letter of introduction.But he may not know that honesty is not welcome. His life is simple, he is always busy except on Sundays.Sometimes it happened that I was on vacation, and I went to the office to see him, but he was still at work, and the sound of the typewriter sounded in the quiet corridor, which seemed very monotonous. He likes to write some poems. I have read some of the published ones, but I guess they were written many years ago. Over the years, his favorite thing is probably music.He has a grand piano with a nice sound and a nice look.Put it in the auditorium and never let people touch it.When going to the summer club, Xu, who is learning music, ran up to play, but the workers rushed to stop him.He shouted very seriously: "Mr. Sang will be angry when he hears it!" "Play it, kid." Another voice suddenly sounded softly, with smiling eyes flashing, it was Mr. Sang who came by himself, "What's his name, you play really well." I can't help but think of the old Yaoqin story. Later, when I was listening to music in Zhongshan Hall, Xu suddenly ran over, pointed to the front and said, "Look, isn't that your old Mr. Sang? He is very cute." "Yes, our old Mr. Sang," I unconsciously repeated Xu's words, "he is very cute." I think Xu already understood what I was talking about. The show was about to start, but I couldn't help but look at his back, the white hair, the grooved nape of the neck, and the thin shoulders.I can't help but think of the opening sentences of Ohman's article: "Youth is not all about a person, it's a period of life—it's a state of mind. It doesn't just mean plump cheeks and bright red lips. , or the flexing and flexing of the legs. It is the tenacity of will, the quality of ideals, and the vigorousness of emotion. In the deep spring of life, it is a fresh and cool stream." I think, he is like that young.That's when he spotted me and smiled back.In that quiet self-sufficient smile, I remembered what the dean had said to me last time. "Have you seen him talk? No, he doesn't talk, he just bury his head in his work. Once I asked: 'Mr. Sang, if you continue to work like this, what will you do if one day you are too poor to eat?' He was very Solemnly use the Suzhou saying: 'I drink porridge.' 'I don't have to drink porridge?' 'I drink boiled water!'" I couldn't help but touch De next to me. "Why is this? De," I pointed to Mr. Sang in front of me. "A person walks halfway around the world alone and tremblingly, living in another nation, listening to another language, and eating another kind of food. There is no enjoyment, only labor, no accumulation, only dedication. Ill, tired , half-blind, holding on, doing work that others don’t care about, and they only talk about the truth and write with the pen, but he really does his best to do it, why bother?” "I've often thought," said De thoughtfully, "that he was like that light in Matthew's Gospel, lit and placed on a high place. The top was burned and the bottom was inserted—but it still shined." Brightened up the family and found many lost things." The lights suddenly went out, and the show started, and the venue immediately seemed empty and quiet.The red light on the stage was very soft, and the music echoed in the hall like the tide.And in and out of all this, I saw a small candle, soft and beautiful, lit high, very high.