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                                                                                                            杭州路10号

      于德北

今年的夏天对我来说很重要。随着待业天数的不断增加，我愈发相信百无聊赖也是一种合理的生活方式。我母亲给我讲的故事无法诉诸数字，我依旧一天到晚吊儿郎当。所以，我说改变一个人不容易。

那个中午，我从一场棋战中挣脱出来，不免有些乏味。吃饭的时候，我忽然想出这样一种游戏：闲上眼睛在心里描绘自己所要寻找的女孩的模样，然后，把她当做自己的上帝，向她诉说自己的苦闷。这一定很有趣。我激动。名字怎么办？信怎么寄？潇洒地耸耸肩，洋腔洋味地说：“都随便。”

万岁，这游戏！我找了——张白纸，在上边一本正经地写了“雪雪，我的上帝”几个字。这是发向天国的一封信。我颇为动情地向她诉说我的一切，其中包括所谓的爱情经历（实际上是对邻家女儿的单相思），包括待业始末，包括失去双腿双手的痛苦（这是撒谎！）。杭州路10号袁小雪收。有没有杭州路我不知道，也不必知道。我说过，这是游戏，是一封类似乡下爷爷收的信。信寄出去了。我很快便把它忘却。

生活中竟有这么巧的事，巧得让人害怕。几天之后，我正躺在床上看书，突然一阵急切的敲门声把我惊起。我打开门，邮递员的手正好触到我的鼻子上。

“我的信？”我不想念是因为从来没有人给我写信。

“杭州路10号？”我惊坐在沙发上。仿佛有无数只小手在信封里捣鬼，我好半天才把它拆开，字很清丽，一看就是女孩子。信很短：谢谢您信任，向我诉说您的痛苦。我不是上帝，但我理解您，别放弃信念，给生活以时间。您的朋友雪雪。

人都有良心。从这封信可以知道袁小雪是个善良的女孩子，欺骗善良无疑是犯罪。我不回信不能回信不敢回信。这里边有一种崇敬。我认为这件事会过去，只要我再闭口不言。但是，从那封信开始，我每个月初都能收到一封袁小雪的信。信都很短，执著、感人。她还寄两本书给我：《张海迪的故事》、《生活的诗篇》。

我渐渐自醒。袁小雪，你这是为什么为什么为什么呀？我渐渐不安。四个月过去了，我无法忍受这种折磨。我决定去看看袁小雪，也算负荆请罪。告诉她我是个小混蛋，不值她这样为我牵肠挂肚。我想知道袁小雪是大姐姐小妹妹还是阿姨老大娘。我必须亲自去，不然的话我不可能再平静地生活。

秋天了，窄窄的小街上黄叶飘零。杭州路10号。我轻轻地叩打这个小院，心中充满少有的神圣和庄严。门开了，老奶奶的一头花发映入我的眼帘。我想：如果可以确定她就是袁小雪，我一定会跪下去叫一声奶奶。

“我，我找袁小雪。“袁？……噢，您就是那个……写信的人？”“是，是他的朋友。”我随着她走过红砖铺的小道直进一间整洁明亮的屋子里，不难看出是书房。“她不在么？”

“……”她转过身去，从书柜里拿出一沓信封款式相同的信，声音蓦然喃喃：“人，死了，已经有两个多月了，这些信，让我每个月寄一封……”

我的血液开始变凉。这是死的征兆。“她？”“骨癌。”她指了指桌子让我看。在一个黑色的木框里镶嵌着一张三寸黑白照片。照片是新的。照片上的人的微笑很健康很慈祥。照片上的人，是一位白发苍苍的老爷爷。他叫骆瀚沙。他是著名的病残心理学教授。

就在这间屋子里，我被杀死了。从那里出来，我就是另外一个了。

    I serve as an educator and health care provider as well, therefore, I have worked with numerous children infected with the virus that causes AIDS. The relationships that I have had with these special kids have been gifts in my life. They have taught me so many things, but I have especially learned that great courage can be found in the smallest of packages. Let me tell you about Tyler.

    Tyler was born infected with HIV: his mother was also infected.From the very beginning of his life, he was dependent on medications to enable him to survive.When he was five, he had a tube surgically inserted in a vein in his chest.This tube was connected to a pump, which he carried in a small backpack on his back. Medications were hooked up to this pump and were continuously supplied through this tube to his bloodstream.At times, he also needed supplemented oxygen to support his breathing.

    Tyler wasn't willing to give up one single moment of his childhood to this deadly disease.It was not unusual to find him playing and racing around his backyard, wearing his medicine-laden backpack and dragging his tank of oxygen behind him in his little wagon.All of us who knew Tyler marveled at his pure joy in being alive and the energy it gave him.Tyler's mom often teased him by telling him that he moved so fast that she needed to dress him in red.That way, when she peered through the window to check on him playing in the yard, she could quickly spot him.

    This dreaded disease eventually wore down even the likes of a little dynamo (精力充沛的人) like Tyler. He grew quite ill and, unfortunately, so did his HIV-infected mother.When it became apparent that he wasn't going to survive, Tyler's mom talked to him about death.She comforted him by telling Tyler that she was dying too, and that she would be with him soon in heaven.

    A few days before his death, Tyler beckoned me over to his hospital bed and whispered, “I might die soon.I'm not scared.When I die, please dress me in red.Mom promised she's coming to heaven, too.I'll be playing when she gets there, and I want to make sure she can find me.”