I grew up in a small town in Ohio, where everyone knew a man called Tom. Uneducated, he couldn't talk plainly. And because he was good-natured and not very smart, everyone teased him. I1 he was an easy mark.
One day, he came walking by. I was about 12 and thought it would make me feel grown-up to2 him like the adults did.
He asked how I was doing. I told him my father was3, and that we lacked money. I could hear my friends laughing in the background so I went on with the lie. I had him4so completely that every time he inquired about the5, I would make it seem increasingly worrying.
I knew he made a living by doing odd jobs (打零工), so it seemed6when he asked me if we needed anything. I told him that we didn't know if we would7. He responded, "You poor thing. I will8for you. "
That night I heard the9 rattle (作响) softly. Thinking it was the wind beating against it, I10it. Later when I opened the door to go outside, I found a box of groceries. I knew who had given the food. I11the small box of canned food with tears in my eyes. I felt12and wanted to return the groceries.
My father would not let me take the box13. He said it would hurt Tom. Each day when we were to have dinner, my father would ask, "What side dish are we having from the14box today?"
It was hard for me to eat the food. I knew Tom had given15. He gave the best he had, but I did not deserve the gift.
