English Original
Sweet, wild berries plucked from roadside patches are a delightful side benefit of camping. Each summer, my husband Bob and I would send the kids off with their little metal buckets. The next day, we would all enjoy the fruits of their labor: raspberry pancakes on the grill or firm blackberries dotting a campfire-toasted peanut butter sandwich.
The children looked forward to picking. We could usually find berries from early summer blueberries to August raspberries and blackberries. Every year—except one.
"There's nothing around here to pick!" five-year-old Julie complained one late summer evening, poking a stick into the dying fire. The season had been too dry; the few remaining blackberries were hard as marbles.
"Yeah. I looked all over," added four-year-old Brian. "Wish there was something."
That night, after the kids were zipped into their sleeping sacks, I handed Bob a bag of large marshmallows and grabbed a bag of the miniatures. "Get the lantern and follow me," I said. "We're going to make a memory."
I told him about the kids' campfire conversation. Bob grinned. "Let's go!"
The next morning over pancakes, I said, "Kids, I think you're going to have something to pick today."
"Really!" Julie's eyes shone. "What?"
"What?" echoed Brian.
"Marshmallows," I said, as though it were a yearly tradition. "Last night Daddy and I walked toward the lake, and it looks like they're just about ready to pick. It's a good thing we're here now. They only come out one day a year."
Julie looked skeptical, and Brian giggled. "You're silly, Mom! Marshmallows come in bags from the store."
I shrugged. "So do blackberries, but you've picked those, haven't you? Somebody just puts them in bags."
"Daddy, is that true?" he demanded.
Bob, busy turning pancakes, answered, "Guess you'll just have to go find out for yourself."
"Okay!" They were off in a flurry, little metal buckets reflecting the morning sun.
"You nut," Bob said to me, laughing. "It won't work."
"Be a believer," I answered.
Minutes later, our two excited children rushed into the clearing.
"Look! I got some that were just babies!" Julie held up a miniature marshmallow.
"I picked the big ones!" said Brian. "Boy, I want to cook one! Light the fire, Daddy, quick!"
"All right, all right, settle down." Bob winked at me. "They won't spoil." He lit some small sticks while the kids ran for their hot dog forks.
"Mine will be better because they're so little," predicted Julie. Brian shrugged, mashing two large ones on his fork.
We waited for the culinary verdict.
"Wow!" Brian's eyes rounded with surprise. "These are sure better than those old ones in the bags!" He reached for another. "These are so good!"
"Of course," I said. "These are really fresh!"
Julie looked puzzled. "How come all those marshmallow bushes don't have the same kinds of leaves?"
"Just different kinds, that's all," I replied quickly. "Like flowers."
"Oh." She licked her fingers, seemingly satisfied. Then, studying the next marshmallow before popping it into her mouth, she looked up with the sweetest smile and said softly, "We're so lucky that they bloomed today!"
中文翻译
从路边采摘甜美、野生的浆果是露营时令人愉快的额外收获。每年夏天，我和丈夫鲍勃都会让孩子们带着他们的小金属桶出发。第二天，我们就能一起享受他们的劳动成果：烤架上的覆盆子煎饼，或是点缀在篝火烤制的花生酱三明治上的结实黑莓。
孩子们总是期待着采摘。我们通常能找到各种浆果，从初夏的蓝莓到八月的覆盆子和黑莓。每年都是如此——除了一年。
“这儿没什么可摘的！”一个夏末的傍晚，五岁的朱莉一边抱怨，一边用棍子戳着即将熄灭的篝火。那个季节太干燥了；灌木丛上仅存的几颗黑莓硬得像弹珠。
“是啊。我到处都找过了，”四岁的布莱恩补充道。“真希望有点什么。”
那天晚上，等孩子们钻进睡袋并确认他们睡着后，我递给鲍勃一袋大棉花糖，自己拿了一袋迷你棉花糖。“拿上提灯，跟我来，”我说。“我们要创造一段回忆。”
我告诉了他孩子们在篝火旁的对话。鲍勃咧嘴笑了。“走吧！”
第二天早上吃煎饼时，我说：“孩子们，我想你们今天有东西可以摘了。”
“真的吗！”朱莉的眼睛闪闪发光。“是什么？”
“是什么？”布莱恩也跟着问。
“棉花糖，”我说，仿佛这是每年的传统。“昨晚爸爸和我朝湖边走了走，看起来它们差不多可以摘了。幸好我们现在在这里。它们一年只出现一天。”
朱莉一脸怀疑，布莱恩咯咯地笑起来。“妈妈，你真傻！棉花糖是从商店袋子里买的。”
我耸耸肩。“黑莓也是袋装的，但你们不是也摘过吗？只是有人把它们装进袋子里而已。”
“爸爸，这是真的吗？”他追问道。
鲍勃正忙着翻煎饼，回答道：“我想你得自己去发现答案了。”
“好吧！”他们一溜烟跑了，小金属桶反射着晨光。
“你这个怪人，”鲍勃笑着对我说。“这行不通的。”
“要相信奇迹，”我回答。
几分钟后，我们两个兴奋的孩子冲回了空地。
“看！我摘到了一些还是‘小宝宝’的！”朱莉举起一颗迷你棉花糖。
“我摘了大的！”布莱恩说。“天哪，我想烤一个！爸爸，快点生火！”
“好了，好了，冷静点。”鲍勃对我眨了眨眼。“它们不会坏的。”他点燃一些小树枝，孩子们则跑去拿他们的热狗叉。
“我的会更好，因为它们这么小，”朱莉预测道。布莱恩耸耸肩，把两颗大棉花糖戳在他的叉子上。
我们等待着他们的美食裁决。
“哇！”布莱恩惊讶地睁圆了眼睛。“这些肯定比袋子里那些旧的好吃多了！”他又伸手拿了一颗。“这些太好吃了！”
“当然，”我说。“这些非常新鲜！”
朱莉看起来有些困惑。“为什么那些棉花糖灌木的叶子都不一样呢？”
“只是种类不同而已，”我迅速回答。“就像花一样。”
“哦。”她舔了舔手指，似乎对我的回答感到满意。然后，在把下一颗棉花糖放进嘴里之前，她仔细看了看，抬起头露出最甜美的微笑，轻声说道：“它们今天开花了，我们真幸运！”