Aunt Dolly's Hat 多莉姨妈的帽子

 

Three things I was sure of as a child: My family loved me. The sun would come up tomorrow. I had a wonderful voice.

I figured that was unquestionably true because I participated at the top of my lungs in all the family sing-alongs, and no one ever stopped me. So I was delighted when my second-grade teacher announced her plans for a musical pageant at Christmas.

"Singing," said Sister Kathleen to our class, "is one of the most important ways you can tell God how much you love him." She said she would cast singers according to ability. All 26 of us students raised our hands in eager anticipation.

"Those who feel confident about a solo role, form a line to the right of the piano," Sister said. "If you feel more comfortable as a chorus member, stand to the left."

I was first on the solo line before Sister reached the piano. She showed me a list of tunes, and I picked a family favorite, "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." Sister played, and I sang with all the emotion a seven-year-old could muster. "Thank you, Jacquelyn," Sister said, interrupting. "Next, please." I'd barely sung a dozen lines. Some of the kids snickered as I returned to my seat. What had I done wrong?

One by one the solo roles were filled. The rest of us were put into the chorus audition line. Sister listened to each student, then arranged us into small groups of similar voices. I was left alone.

While the other children studied their music, Sister Kathleen motioned me to her desk. She looked kindly at me.

"Jacquelyn, have you heard the expression tone-deaf?"

I shook my head.

"It means what you think you are singing is different from the music." Sister patted my hand. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, dear. You will still be in the pageant. You will be a lip-syncher. You may mouth the words, but no sound must be uttered. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I understood, all right. I was so ashamed, I didn't go home after school. I took the bus straight to Aunt Dolly's house. She had an answer for everything.

Independently single in an era when most women wed, she'd gone on safari, shook hands with President Eisenhower, kissed Clark Gable on the cheek, and planned to visit every country in the world. More than anyone else, she would understand that my world had been turned upside down by this terrible revelation.

Aunt Dolly served me cookies and milk. "What will I do?" I sobbed. "If I don't sing, God will think I don't love him."

Aunt Dolly dunked her cookie in my milk. She drummed her fingers on the kitchen table as her brow creased in thought. Finally her eyes grew wide. "I've got it!" she said. "I will wear my hat!"

Her hat? How can a hat help me with being tone-deaf? Aunt Dolly leveled her brown eyes on my face. Her voice dropped. "Jacquelyn, I'm about to reveal a bit of secret information about angels, but first you must swear that you will never tell a soul."

"I swear," I whispered.

Aunt Dolly took my hand in hers. "When I was in Rome, praying in St. Peter's," she said, "I overheard a conversation in the next pew. It seems that other tone-deaf people also have concerns about God not understanding their silence in song. They were told, in the strictest confidence, of course, that a simple piece of aluminum foil is the answer."

"I don't understand."

"You mouth the words," she said. "Your silent words reflect off the foil. Angels capture the words and put them in special pouches they carry up to God."

As fantastic as it seemed, I could picture angels doing this. Absolute faith shone in Aunt Dolly's face. I knew she could see the angels too.

"The result," she said, "is that God hears your beautiful voice, singing in his praise along with your classmates."

"Where will I hide the foil?"

"My hat!" said Aunt Dolly. "I'll hide it in my hat. I'll sit in the front row. As for Sister Kathleen and your parents? Not a single word to them."

My entire family attended the pageant. I gave what Aunt Dolly called "an Oscar-winning performance." With my eyes firmly on her hat, the fact that none present could hear my voice didn't matter. My silent singing was for God's ears alone.

Four years ago Aunt Dolly died at the age of 90. When the nieces and nephews gathered to reminisce about her, we discovered something many of us had in common. Her angelic hat.

A stutterer made it through a dreaded speech by concentrating on the hat. The family klutz didn't knock anyone over during his high school commencement march because he kept his eyes glued to the hat. Even the most timid of us took part in school plays, spelling bees and talent shows because Aunt Dolly sat in the front row wearing her hat.

Her surefire faith that God's angels are here to help us overcome life's stumbling blocks enabled us kids to do things we thought were impossible.

Even now at times, when my world is turned upside down, I think of Aunt Dolly and remember that my childhood beliefs still hold true. My family loves me. The sun will come up tomorrow. And for one unforgettable Christmas pageant, I had a wonderful voice. I guess just about anything is possible when angels are on our side.

当我还是小孩子时，曾对三件事情笃信不疑：我的家人都爱我；太阳每天早上都会升起；我的嗓音很美妙。对最后一点我尤其有把握。因为每当全家一起唱歌时，我都会扯着嗓门大喊，从来没有人阻止过我。所以当我的二年级老师凯瑟琳嬷嬷宣布她要为在圣诞节当天举行的一场演唱会挑选独唱演员时，我别提有多高兴了。轮到我了，嬷嬷开始弹琴，我则以一个7岁女孩儿所能展示的最丰富的感情开始演唱。可没唱几句就被嬷嬷打断了：“谢谢你，下一位。”

当我回到座位上时，看到有些同学在窃笑。难道我做错什么事了吗?

独唱的名额很快就招满了。当其他同学开始熟悉歌谱时，嬷嬷把我叫到她的桌前，温和地看着我。“杰奎琳，你听说过‘音盲’这个词吗?”

我摇了摇头。“就是说你发出来的声音与你自己想像的不一样，”她拉着我的手说。“这没什么值得害羞的，亲爱的。你仍然可以参加合唱队。在演唱时，你做出发音的口型就可以了，但不要发声。你明白我的意思吗?”

“我明白。”我是如此羞愧，以至于放学后我没有回家，而是直接坐公共汽车来到了多莉姑姑家。在我眼里，没有什么事情能够难得倒她。在那个大多数女性都要嫁人的年代里，她勇敢地选择独身生活。她还参加过狩猎远征队，和艾森豪威尔总统握过手，吻过克拉克·盖博(好莱坞著名男影星)的脸，并打算环游整个世界。她能理解我的世界是如何被这个可怕的发现搞得翻了天。

多莉姑姑给我端来饼干和牛奶。“我该怎么办?”我抽泣着说，“如果我不能唱歌，上帝会以为我不爱他的。”

多莉姑姑的手指在桌上敲着，眉头皱在一起。最后她眼睛一亮，“有办法了！我将帽子戴上！”

帽子?它能帮我解决“音盲”这个大问题吗?她那棕色的眼睛盯着我，声音忽然降了下来。

“杰奎琳，我得透露一点儿天使的秘密，但首先你得发誓不会告诉任何人。”“我发誓。”我低声说。

多莉姑姑抓着我的手说：“当我在罗马圣彼得教堂祈祷时，曾听到旁边座位上一个人讲话。他也是个音盲，也担心上帝听不到他的歌声。那里的牧师悄悄告诉他，一小块铝箔就可以解决这个问题。”

“我不明白。”

“你在嘴里默默地念出歌词，它们会通过铝箔反射，天使就能捕捉到这些声音，把它们放到特制的袋子里，然后送给上帝。这样上帝就能听到你和同学们一起唱赞美诗的美妙声音了。”

虽然听起来有些玄妙，但我相信万能的天使还是能够做到这一点的。况且多莉姑姑表情严肃，她是不会欺骗我的。

“那我把铝箔藏在哪儿呢?”

“藏在我的帽子里，”多莉姑姑说。“我会坐在演唱会的前排。不要对凯瑟琳嬷嬷和你的父母泄漏一个字。”

圣诞节那天，全家都去观看我的表演。我紧紧盯着她的帽子，根本不去考虑在场的人能否听到我的声音，我沉默的歌声是唱给上帝一个人听的。演出非常成功，多莉姑姑夸我的表演具有“奥斯卡水准”。

4年前多莉姑姑去世了，享年90岁。葬礼结束后，我们晚辈聚在一起，追忆这位令人尊敬的姑妈。我们吃惊地发现，她的“天使帽子”曾帮过我们许多人。一个口吃的外甥盯着她的帽子，完成了自己首次登台演讲；一个胆小的侄女勇敢地参加学校戏剧演出，并在拼写比赛和天才竞赛中获奖。就因为多莉姑姑戴着帽子坐在前排，她让我们相信天使就在我们身边，帮我们完成了许多自以为不可能完成的任务。

即使到了现在，当我在生活中遇到挫折时，还会想起多莉姑姑和她的“天使帽子”。我童年时的信仰仍然没有改变：我的家人都爱我；太阳每天早上都会升起；在那个难忘的圣诞节表演中，我拥有最美妙的声音。

她让我们相信天使就在身边，让我们对自己充满自信。