安娜为琳达感到伤心，于是她邀请琳达在情人节那天共进晚餐，然后再看场电影。“不，我不去，”琳达告诉她，“我才不想当电灯泡呢。”
琳达打开电视机，转到的每个台播的都是有关情人节的节目，这使她更加郁闷。琳达打算出去走一走，她拿起皮包和钥匙，想去街边的小店买本杂志看看。琳达刚下楼梯走到她所住的公寓前门的时候，一个手捧鲜花的递送人员正好走上台阶来到门口。
琳达打开门，让他进来。“谢谢，”他说，“请问401号单元在哪层楼上？”琳达看着那个送货员，说道：“我住的单元就是401号。”“那么，这些花肯定是送给你的。”送货员说。“嗯我不会是我的。”琳达结结巴巴地说，“肯定是什么地方出错了。”这个人看了看塑料袋里的卡片，问道：“你是不是琳达呀？”“是的，我就是琳达。”琳达满脸通红地说。递送员将花交给她，说道：“情人节快乐。”
琳达捧着花回到了房间，她把塑料包装袋取了下来，只见上面写着：“琳达，情人节快乐。爱你的神秘仰慕者。”琳达很吃惊，是谁送这些花给她的呢？她辨认不出这是谁的笔迹。她给花店打电话，但是接电话的人也记不清了。“今天买花的人太多了，你应该也了解。”他说。“那是自然，”琳达说，“那么，这些花是怎么付款的？假如是刷卡的话，没准儿你能够告诉我他的名字。”“这些花是用现金支付的，”接电话的人告诉她，“不好意思。”琳达看着这些花，简直太漂亮了。
在与前任男友交往的整整三年之中，他从没有给她送过花，又怎么会在分手之后送花给她呢？难道是她不认识的某一个男人？或者是一个对她痴迷却因害羞不敢告诉她的人？假如是一个让人恐惧的家伙，又该怎么办？或者是她不喜欢的某个人？正在这个时候，电话铃响了，是安娜。“情人节快乐！”她对琳达说，“今天过得怎么样？”“我不知道，”琳达说，“我收到一束花，署名却是神秘仰慕者，我不知道是谁送的，花店的人也不记得，我不知道该高兴还是忧虑。”安娜有一会儿没有说话。“是我，”她说，“我就是所谓的神秘仰慕者。”“你说的是真的吗？”琳达说。“你不会生气吧？”安娜问她。“一点儿都不会！”琳达说。安娜这才放下心来，“你是我的姐姐，琳达。你是我唯一的姐姐。我爱你，我想让你有个快乐的情人节。”“安娜，谢谢你。”琳达说，“这是我收到的最好的情人节礼物。”
好运斑马裙
Well Dressed
玛丽·安·佩奇·皮尔斯 / Mary Ann Pecci Pearce
One Sunday morning in June 1959 my mother walked into my room. "Surprise！" she said, proudly holding up a yellow dress with black and white stripes. "I made it just for you. What do you think?"
I bit my tongue. How could I tell Mom it was the most hideous dress I had ever seen? The too-intense colors, the gaudy rhinestone buttons, the shiny patent leather belt, the hopelessly out-of-style billowy skirt.
"It' s perfect for church," my mother continued blithely."I wish somone had made a dress like this for me."
Too bad you can' t wear it, I thought. But I knew Mom had spent a lot of time on the dress. Only the world' s most ungrateful daughter would refuse. Reluctantly I put it on.
All through church I prayed, Lord, let me get out of here without anyone seeing me. Especially Dennis Pearce, the boy I had a crush on. He was one of the cutest guys at Neptune High. Although we were in some of the same classes, Dennis had never taken any notice of me.
At the end of the service I bolted for the door. But I had to wait on the steps while my parents chatted with their friends. Just a little while longer... Then out of the corner of my eye I saw the Pearce approaching. Before I could escape, Dennis was right beside me.
I started gabbing a mile a minute, hoping if I kept it up he wouldn' t notice my horrible dress. "I' m going to college in September," I said.
"That' s great," Dennis replied. "I got accepted to the police academy."
"Wow！" I said. Somehow I kept the conversation going. Soon we were walking to the parking lot together. The next thing I knew Dennis had asked me out on a date！
We courted through college, and eventually got married. Months after our wedding I asked Dennis if he remembered the day he had first asked me out.
"You bet I do," he said. "You were always quiet in school, almost standoffish. I didn' t think you' d be much fun. But you were so animated when we talked on the church steps, I wanted to get to know you better." Maybe that zebra-striped yellow dress wasn' t what I would have chosen, but that day it was the perfect dress for me.
1959年6月，在一个星期日的早晨，妈妈来到我的房间，自豪地举起一条带黑白条纹的黄色连衣裙说：“给你一个惊喜！这是我亲手为你量身缝制的，你觉得怎么样？”
我忍住了，没说话。过分浓烈的颜色，华而不实的莱茵石纽扣，锃亮的漆皮皮带，还有早已过时的蓬起的裙摆，然而，我怎么能对妈妈说，那是我见过的最难看的裙子呢？
妈妈继续高兴地说道：“穿着这条裙子去教堂真是太棒了，我多么希望别人也能够为我缝制一条这样的裙子呀！”
我心想，这条裙子太糟糕了，实在无法穿出去。但是，我明白，妈妈花费了很长时间才做成这条裙子，只有这个世界上最不懂得感恩的女儿才会拒绝穿上它。尽管很不情愿，我还是穿上了它。
在教堂做礼拜时，我一直祈祷：“上帝，请你保佑我在离开这里之前不被任何人看到，尤其是丹尼斯·皮尔斯。”他是内普丘恩高中最帅的男生之一，是我暗恋的男孩子。他从来没有注意到我，尽管有些课我们是在同一个班级上。
礼拜一结束，我快速地逃向教堂门口。然而，我不得不站在教堂的台阶上等候，因为父母正在跟朋友聊天。我等了好一会儿正在那时，我用眼角的余光瞥见皮尔斯一家人正向我这边走来。就在我要躲到一边的时候，丹尼斯站在了我的身旁。
我开始和他不停地聊天，只是为了他不要注意到我那条糟糕的裙子。我对他说：“九月份，我就要去大学报到了。”
丹尼斯说：“太棒了，我也已骗被警察学院录取了。”
我说：“哇，太好了！”我就一直跟他聊着，一会儿就一起走到了停车场。我记得，丹尼斯在此之后就与我约会了。
我们上大学的时候一直在谈恋爱，最后终于结为夫妻。结婚几个月后，我问丹尼斯是否记得第一次向我发出约会邀请的事情。
他答道：“当然记得，在学校的时候，你不爱说话，表现得几乎有点儿冷漠。所以，我认为你是一个没什么意思的女孩子。然而，在教堂的台阶上，你跟我谈话时是那么活泼愉快，这不由使我想更多地了解你。”或许，那条斑马纹的黄裙子并不是我想选择的。然而，那一天，它就是我最理想的选择。
忘却吧，伤痛
Opening the Door
佚名 / Anonymous
"Joe? Is that you?" The woman speaking to me at the basketball game looked vaguely familiar. "Marci?"
"It is you！" She exclaimed, smiling broadly. "Gosh, it' s good to see you again！" It was good to see Marci, too. Off and on during the past few decades I' ve wondered about her. I almost tried to track her down a few years ago after talking to a mutual friend who had indicated that the last decade had been pretty rocky for Marci. So bumping into her at the basketball game was, at the very least, fortuitous.
We spent a few minutes catching up on the business of our lives—kids and careers, spouses and houses, education and recreation (it' s always a little disconcerting to see how few words are required to summarize 25 years of living). We played a little "have you seen..." and "did you know..." and we reminisced about the good old, bad old days. Then Marci grew quiet for a moment, looking out over the crowd milling about the concession area.
"You know, Joe," she said, "I' ve always wanted to tell you... how... you know... how sorry I am for the way I treated you." I squirmed. One does not like to remember when one has been unceremoniously dumped.
"It' s OK," I said. "No big deal." At least, I thought to myself, not now. "But I was such a jerk," she continued. Yes you were, I thought. "We were both pretty young," I said.
