英文情感故事:The Santa Claus on I
The wipers struggled to push the heavy, wet snowflakes off the windshield while they kept rhythm to Wllie Nelson singing "On the Road Again."Trint hit the eject button on the tape player. He'd heard that song four times in the last two hours and was sick of it. He shrugged his aching shoulders trying to shake off the miles. It was still a long way to Memphis, a storm was blowing in and Interstate 40 was getting hazardous.
In the distance, Trint spotted the welcome glow of lights at a truck stop and decided to pull off the road and grab a bite to eat while he waited to see if the weather would break or turn into an icy blizzard that would shut down the roads until morning.
He eased his orange Freightliner and fifty?three-foot-long trailer into an empty spot and shut it down. He was hauling a heavy load of tires to Nashville, and after that he was picking up a load in Baltimore and heading to Chicago.
He reached for his jacket and hesitated when he saw the box on the passenger seat. His mother had been worried about him spending Christmas on the road alone and had given him a box filled with presents. He smiled; his mom still treated him like he was a kid. He looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve, so he might as well open his gifts now
Trint tore open the box and found a warm flannel shirt, probably blue. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but his mom knew his favorite color was blue. There were some heavy socks and leather gloves. Mom was always fussing over him and worrying her youngest son would get cold. There were homemade cookies and fudge and a red stocking with Santa Claus on it. He reached into the stocking and pulled out a toy tractor trailer that looked a lot like his rig and wondered how many stores his mother had to go to before she found such a close match.
His eyes stung. Next month he'd be twenty?five years old. He was a man. Men didn't cry over cookies and a toy truck or because they were a thousand miles away from home on Christmas.
He climbed out of his cab and a cold blast of air hit him in the chest like a fist. He pulled his collar up and ran across the parking lot to the all?night cafe. He was tall and thin and without much meat on his bones to protect him from the cold. Inside, it was warm and cozy. A dozen truckers were spread out at the counter and tables. A man and woman and small boy were huddled in a booth, and they looked tired and unhappy.
Trint felt sorry for the boy. He looked like he was around eight years old, and no kid should have to spend Christmas Eve in a truck stop. The parents were loading up on c
offee and Trint guessed they'd been driving somewhere to spend the holidays with relatives, and the snow forced them to hole up here. They were drinking coffee hoping to stay awake so they could finish their trip if the weather cleared up."It's so cold outside, I was spitting ice cubes," a fat trucker at the counter said, and the others laughed.
A cute waitress with blonde hair offered Trint a menu.
"I'll have biscuits and gravy . . . ," he said.
"And iced tea with lemon," she finished the order for him. You're the only trucker around here who doesn't drink coffee. She smiled and didn't seem in a hurry to leave.
"I'm surprised you remember me." Trint returned her smile.
"How could I ever forget those beautiful brown eyes and your country accent?" she asked, hoping he would guess that she watched for him every time a truck pulled in.
"Well, I remember you, too," he grinned. "You want to be schoolteacher, I think you said first or second grade, you're putting yourself through college by working here at night and your name is Melinda."
"You do remember!" she said, liking the soft way he said her name. Color flushed her cheeks and she hurried off into the kitchen.
Funny how truckers picked up bits and pieces of other people's lives. He looked across the room. Some of the truckers' faces looked familiar but he didn't know any of heir names. He might see them again tomorrow at another truck stop, or never see them again. Sometimes he job seemed awfully lonely. Trint liked driving a truck, he liked seeing new places and he liked the good pay, but sometimes, like tonight, he felt lonesome and wondered if this was really the life for him.
He missed his family. His mom raised four kids by herself on a forty?acre farm in Missouri but no matter how scarce money was, she'd always made sure they had a good Christmas. He thought about his box of gifts in the truck.
He looked at the kid again and knew what he had to do. He forced himself back into the bone?chilling cold outside to walk to his truck. He grabbed the Christmas stocking out of the cab and hurried back to the warmth of the cafe.
He walked to the booth where the family sat in weary silence.
"I think Santa Claus left this for you," Trint said and handed the red stocking to the boy.
The boy lo
oked at his mother. She hesitated just a second and nodded. The boy eagerly reached out and took the stocking and dug inside."Wow! Mom, look! A big rig just like the real ones outside!" His crooked grin lit up the whole room.
"Tell Santa . . . well, tell him thanks," the boy's father said and shook Trint's hand long and hard. The mother smiled gratefully.
Trint returned to the counter and ate his biscuits and gravy. He gave the waitress a twenty?dollar tip and told her merry Christmas. She said the money was too much, but he told her to use it to buy some books for school, and she took it and slipped him a piece of paper.
"Take good care of yourself," she said. "And hurry back."
"I will . . . Melinda," he promised and noticed she had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.
Trint walked outside. It had stopped snowing and a handful of stars sparkled through a break in the clouds.
There was a tap on the window behind him and he turned to look. It was the boy. He was holding up the truck and laughing. Trint waved good?bye, and the boy waved back.
Trint felt good. Somewhere along the road tomorrow he'd call home and talk to his brothers and kid sister. He'd tell his mom about giving the toy to the kid. She'd like that.
Trint reached his truck and stopped. Somebody had written "Merry X?mas," in the snow on his windshield and hung a candy cane on his side mirror. He wondered if it was Melinda or the boy or one of the truckers.
He started up his engine and felt the roar and power as he slowly pulled up to the road. Soon the snowplows would be out and clear the Interstate, but right now the road stretched out like a silver ribbon.
A quiet peace filled Trint's heart. He was lucky guy. He had a job he loved, Melinda's phone number in his pocket, clear weather and miles of open road ahead.
He wasn't tired anymore, or lonely. He loved this life and he wouldn't change a thing.
-
暖心童话故事100字文字版
【米老鼠的舞会】星期四,米老鼠举办舞会,说是只有4才能进去。1来了,进不去;2来了,进不去;3来了,也进不去。4来了,大摇大摆就进去了。舞池里只有米老鼠和4,好冷清。米老鼠说,让和4有关系的人也进去吧。小狗来了,还带来了一块饼干。米老鼠说:“小狗有4条腿,可以进;饼干有4个...
-
幼儿园短篇的少儿故事
【小猴和小熊的自行车】小猴小熊合买了一辆崭新的自行车,他们商量好你一天我一天轮着骑。小猴骑着自行车四处游玩,一天下来,车上沾满了灰尘。他想,反正明天小熊骑,让他去擦吧。这天轮到小熊骑自行车,天下起了毛毛雨。小熊冒雨骑着玩了一天,车上沾满了泥,他想,反正明天小...
-
红军长征历史事件【十篇】
历史事件之一:湘江之战这是红军长征路上损失最为惨重的一战。蒋介石凭借湘江天险设下第四道封锁线,总数25个师超过30万人的国民党军队,在桂北越城岭和都庞岭之间的湘江两岸布下绝杀之阵,等待着一个多月中连续突破三道封锁线的中央红军。1934年11月27日,红军先头部队...
-
最新勇怯篇寓言故事【精选】
大飞草和小飞草大自然中的稀奇事儿是很多的,你听说过有会飞的草吗?南美洲就有这种草。每当天气干旱的时候,飞草就把自己的根从土里"拔"出来,卷成一个小球,在天空中随风飘荡,飘到湿润的地方就停下来,重新扎根生长。有一棵大飞草和一棵小飞草同时生活在一个地方。那年的...
相关文章
- 英语名人名言大全 Habit is a second nature
- 英文幽默故事:Maternal Instinct
- 励志英语文章:The prime condition great secrets of success
- 英语脑筋急转弯:The top ten reasons why the television is better than the World Wide Web
- Whats lacking in our education?
- What asks no question but demands an answer?
- 英语情感故事:She Told Me It Was Okay to Cry
- Strength of cultures: East and West
- 英语脑筋急转弯:The top ten reasons why the television is better than the World Wide Web
- 英语脑筋急转弯:Bill Gates picks his own punishment