My brother Joe and I no longer live in the same state, but I make sure to give Joe a call every Christmas. In fact, I will never forget a Christmas when I was seven and Joe was five. I’ve kept a secret about that Christmas for 20 years. Now hearing Joe’s voice makes me feel guilty (内疚的) about it all over again. I think he probably doesn’t even remember it.
When we were kids, Joe almost drove me “crazy”! If Mom brought home my favorite yogurt, Joe would make sure to eat it before I got a chance. When our parents gave us each our own basketball, Joe insisted on playing with mine instead of his own.
That Christmas when I was seven, I was determined to teach him a lesson. At that time I was old enough that I no longer believed in Santa, but I knew Joe did. I couldn’t stand him thinking Santa had put him on the “nice” list when I knew he’d been naughty (淘气的) all year.
One day before Christmas, I put on my winter jacket and headed over to our neighbor’s backyard. It was filled with rocks. To me they really looked like coal (煤炭). I was sure that they’d look like coal to Joe too. I filled a lot of the rocks into the pockets of my winter jacket, brought them up to my room and hid them under my bed. Then I waited.
That morning, I got up early, went downstairs secretly and put the rocks into the red stocking with Joe’s name on it. I watched Joe take down his heavy stocking, lay it on the living room floor.
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Looking at the gift inside, Joe’s smile disappeared suddenly.
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I said on the phone, “Hey, Joe, do you remember that Christmas morning when you were five …your stocking…”
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