社评1123 感恩的故事

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感恩的故事

今天是感恩节，对我而言， 数十年的海外生活， 就如一幕铭记心头的人生经歷， 有许多事物是在生命中无法消失的。

当年第一次踏上这块土地 ，首先进入眼帘的是举世闻名之旧金山金门大桥 ，从大桥眺望経常藏在雾裡的旧金山城 ，简直令人有着无限之暇思， 世界上还有这么美丽扣人心弦的城市。

当我第一次走进旧金山华埠时 ，使我大吃一惊 ，不但到处是听不懂的台山话， 都板街上零乱之摊位及礼品餐厅充满了闹声， 这是我想像中的美国吗 ？这个文化震撼使我有些颓丧， 但是我仍然要立即找份工作来解决现实问题 ，硬着头皮到了家介绍所， 那位操浓重口音的老姑娘顺手為我安排了餐厅之工作， 我也就毫不犹豫地参加了华人餐馆之工作行列。

首日之体力劳动之后 ，我走在崎嶇斗峭之旧金山街道上， 心中有阵难掩之痛苦， 想到远走美国时在松山机场送行之亲友和双亲之殷切期盼 ，我在这陌生的土地到底如何生存， 我从一个公务员一时变為劳工阶级 ，这是多大的变化呢。 打工后的第二天， 我必须找到栖身之地， 一大早我在附近派克衔1111号 看见招租广告 ，我按了电铃， 一位满头白髪的白人老头伸出头来问我， 年青人是否要租房子， 我立即面答是的 ，也许是个缘份吧！ 他开门后引领我到経理室我们立即办妥承租手续 ，我也在第二天搬进了这座古老的四层公寓楼， 他告诉我他的名字叫约翰.吉布森， 早年是爱尓兰移民 ，退休后单身在此管理这楝是华人拥有之老旧公寓。

每当我打工回来， 乘座那陈旧卡卡声音之老式电梯时总是看到约翰还未睡觉伸头出来和我打招呼，并道晚安， 久而久之， 我们就十分熟识 ，而且他也経常邀我去吃他烹调之英式早餐 ，包括煎蛋 、培根、 蓝梅果酱麪包， 我们谈他的过去和我的未来。

就在学校开学前， 為了赚更多学费 ，我开始了两份昼夜工作， 就在感恩节那一天因体力透支而昏厥送进了医院， 等我醒时 ，约翰来探望我也带来了多封家父以毛笔亲写的家信 ，我打开时看了父母之叮嚀和盼望， 不禁泪流满面， 约翰上前给我一个拥抱并安慰我说 ：“年轻人 ，你保重， 上天会祝福保护你的。“

多少年过去了，约翰是我在美国认识的第一个白人 ，如今他早己离开人世间， 今天又逢感恩节日 ，这份恩情亲情和缘份永远烙在我的心坎中。

                                               My Story On Thanksgiving Day

Today is Thanksgiving day. It is a real “thanksgiving“ in my life. There are many things that cannot disappear in life.

The first time I set foot in this land was in San Francisco. When I looked at the Golden Gate Bridge, which was often hidden by the fog, this was the most beautiful city in the world. At least I thought so.

But then, when I first walked into Chinatown of San Francisco, I was shocked. Not only did I not understand the old Chinese Taishan dialect but, the massive streets full of noise overwhelmed me. Is this America? But I still needed to get the job done  immediately to solve the practical problems. Finally, I found a restaurant job in nearby Chinatown on the second day and I also needed to find a place to stay. When I walked down the nearby 1111 Pine Street, I saw a “for rent” sign and I rang the bell. An old white man answered the door and ask me, “Young man, do you want to rent the apartment?”  I answered “yes.” After I looked at the room, I had no choice and signed the lease. Later I found out that the manger’s name was John Gibson. He was Irish and currently retired and managed this apartment for the Chinese owner on Pine Street. Almost every night when I came back from work, John was still awake and always said “good night” to me.

After many months, we became very good friends and he invited me to breakfast with him which he cooked in English style.

Because it was getting close to the school’s opening, I wanted to make more money, so I took a second job. I began to work day and night. On Thanksgiving Day, I fainted and was sent to the hospital due to physical overstress. When I woke up, John came to my hospital bed and brought my dad’s hand-written letter. When I opened it up, I couldn’t help but burst into tears. John came forward and gave me a big hug and comforted me, and said that, “You need to take care of yourself and God will bless and protect you.”

John was the first white man I had ever met in America. Many years have now passed and today this is Thanksgiving Day again. John’s caring for me and his kindness will always be branded in my heart.