I was a boy of nine in 1960. I used to mow the lawn for Mrs. Long. She paid me little for the job, but 1to give me a Christmas present.
I spent much time2what it would be. Many boys had baseball gloves or ice skates and I was
3to have any of these. "It would4be a baseball glove," I5with myself. "She wouldn't know much about baseball." So I was6that she would give me ice skates. I even7myself upon the skates.
As Christmas approached, it was with8that I tried to stop myself from reporting to Mrs.
Long and demanding my present. On December 22, 19myself at the door of the house. Mrs. Long sat me in a chair and handed me a small box which under no circumstances could 10a pair of skates.
I was11. When lifting it from her, I was curious about the12of the present. It weighed almost nothing.
"What is it?" I asked.
"A kind of magic," she said. Her words were enough to set my mind dancing with new13. There were other presents of normal dimension and weight. But Mrs. Long's box dominated all, for it had to do with 14.
On Christmas morning, before the sun was up, I had this box on my knees. With great15I opened the box to find inside ten sheets of black paper, each labeled in colorful letters, Carbon Paper Regal Premium. "What is it?" I asked. Mum took two pieces of white paper, placed between them one of the black paper, and wrote my name on the upper sheet. Then she handed me the second sheet, which her pencil had in no way touched. There was my name!
It was a miracle to my16mind. In that one moment, I17the ideas about the duplication (复制) of words and the printing and the mystery of spreading ideas. Thank Mrs. Long for her18 to guess that a boy might profit from a present totally outside the realm (领域) of his19 experience.
The average present20satisfies a temporary desire; the great one lights up all the years of life that remain.
