整個月過去了，盡管我們百般努力，瑪麗依然沒能從失去母親的絕望和痛苦中恢復過來。她孤獨而自閉，讓人難以接近。三月末的一天，我的一個學生提議為了迎接春天的到來，給教室做些裝飾花邊。我把彩紙遞給瑪麗，鼓勵她嘗試，但并沒抱多大希望。奇跡發(fā)生了，瑪麗做了漂亮的風信子，水仙花，紫羅蘭，還閃著亮晶晶的眼睛告訴我：“媽媽最愛鮮花了，她在我家的花園里種滿了花。”
　　瑪麗終于走出了陰影，她伏在我肩頭啜泣著。教室里其他的孩子們也跟著哭了起來，可我知道那是喜悅的淚水。
　　"There’s a new student waiting in your room," my principal announced, hurrying past me on the stairs. "Name’s Mary. I need to talk to you about her. Stop in the office later."
　　I nodded and glanced down at the packs of pink, red and white paper, and the jars of paste and boxes of scissors I held in my arms. "Fine," I said. "I’ve just come from the supply room. We’re making valentine envelopes this morning. It’ll be a good way for her to get acquainted."
　　This was my third year of teaching fourth-graders, but I was already aware how much they loved Valentine’s Day (now just a week away), and making these bright containers to tape to the fronts of their desks was a favorite activity. Mary would surely be caught up in the excitement and be chatting cheerfully with new friends before the project was finished. Humming to myself, I continued up the stairs.
　　I didn’t see her at first. She was sitting in the back of the room with her hands folded in her lap. Her head was down and long, light-brown hair fell forward, caressing the softly shadowed cheeks.
　　"Welcome, Mary," I said. "I’m so glad you’ll be in our room. And this morning you can make an envelope to hold your valentines for our party on Valentine’s Day."
　　No response. Had she heard me?
　　"Mary," I said again, slowly and distinctly.
　　She raised her head and looked into my eyes. The smile on my face froze. A chill went through me and I stood motionless. The eyes in that sweet, little-girl face were strangely empty - as if the owner of a house had drawn the blinds and gone away. Once before I had seen such eyes: They had belonged to an inmate of a mental institution, one I’d visited as a college student. "She’s found life unendurable," the resident psychiatrist had explained, "so she’s retreated from the world." She had, he went on, killed her husband in a fit of insane jealousy.
　　But this child - she could have been my own small, lovable niece except for those blank, desolate eyes. Dear God, I thought, what horror has entered the life of this innocent little girl?
　　I longed to take her in my arms and hug the hurt away. Instead, I pulled books from the shelf behind her and placed them in her lap. "Here are texts you’ll be using, Mary. Would you like to look at them?" Mechanically, she opened each book, closed it and resumed her former position.
　　The bell rang then, and the children burst in on a wave of cold, snowy air. When they saw the valentine materials on my desk, they bubbled with excitement.