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贺卡上的字写了五遍
九月十日，星期五，晴。
今天是教师节。贺卡是我提前三天就开始准备的。材料全是从家里翻出来的：一张深蓝色的硬卡纸，是妈妈买文件袋送的；一支金色马克笔，笔头有点秃了，写细字正好；还有剪刀、直尺、双面胶。我原本想剪一颗爱心贴在封面，结果第一张卡纸剪歪了，第二张爱心的一大一小两个瓣不对称，第三张总算剪周正了，我的手心全是汗，卡纸角都被攥软了。
最难的是里面的祝福语。我第一遍写“老师节日快乐，您辛苦了”，写完觉得太像商店里卖的。第二遍写了一大段，像写作文，塞都塞不下。第三遍只剩四个字“万事顺意”，又显得太少。第四遍我想了很久，写的是：您讲分数应用题那天，在黑板上画了三个线段图，我终于懂了，谢谢您肯为一道题画三张图。这遍写完我自己读了一遍，鼻子有点酸。第五遍是誊，我把它抄得工工整整，一个错字都没有。
早上到了学校，我把贺卡放在讲台的粉笔盒旁边，没敢当面给。第二节课是数学课，王老师抱着教案进来，先看见了贺卡。她拿起来，翻开，看了大概有半分钟——平时她批四十本作业都没这么久。然后她说，谢谢六二班的同学。她没说是谁的，我心里咚咚跳。
下课我去交作业，看见王老师把那张深蓝贺卡夹在教案本的第一页，合上本子的时候用手压了压边角。她桌上那摞贺卡堆得高高的，她一张都没扔，全让课代表抱去办公室收好了。下午最后一节是班会，同学之间也互相送自己做的卡片。同桌送我的那张上画了个歪歪扭扭的线段图，旁边写：祝你分数应用题全会。我把它夹进语文书第三课。一天下来我攒了两张卡，一张深蓝在我手里，一张线段图在书里。原来被感谢和感谢人，都是让人手心出汗的事。回教室的路上我想，我写了五遍才交出去的一张卡，她要用一整年。明年教师节我还自己写，写到满意为止。
The Card Words I Wrote Five Times
September 10th, Friday, sunny.
Today is Teachers' Day. I started preparing the card three days early. Every material came from home: one sheet of dark blue cardstock that came free with a folder Mother bought, a gold marker with a slightly worn tip, perfect for small writing, plus scissors, a ruler, and double-sided tape. I meant to cut a heart for the cover. The first sheet went crooked. The second heart had two lobes of different sizes. The third finally came out square. My palms were so sweaty the corners of the cardstock went soft in my grip.
The hardest part was the message inside. First attempt: Happy Teachers' Day, thank you for your hard work. It read like a store-bought card. Second attempt: a whole paragraph, like an essay, too big to fit. Third attempt: only four characters, best wishes, too little. For the fourth I thought a long time and wrote: the day you taught fraction word problems, you drew three line diagrams on the blackboard, and I finally understood. Thank you for drawing three pictures for one problem. Reading it back, my nose stung. The fifth attempt was the fair copy, written neat, not one wrong character.
In the morning I left the card beside the chalk box on the podium, too shy to hand it over directly. The second period was math. Teacher Wang walked in with her lesson plan, and saw the card first. She picked it up, opened it, and looked for about half a minute, longer than she spends grading forty notebooks. Then she said, thank you, class 6-2. She did not say whose it was, and my heart hammered.
At break I went to deliver homework and saw Teacher Wang slip the blue card into the first page of her lesson plan, pressing the corner flat as she closed the book. The pile of cards on her desk stood tall, and she threw none away; the class monitor carried them all to the office to store.
The last period in the afternoon was class meeting, and students exchanged handmade cards with each other. The card my deskmate gave me had a crooked line diagram drawn on it, with a note beside it: may you get every fraction word problem right. I tucked it into lesson three of my Chinese textbook. By the end of the day I had collected two cards, one dark blue in my hand and one line diagram inside a book. It turns out that being thanked and thanking someone are both things that make your palms sweat.
On the way back I thought: one card I wrote five times before handing in, and she will keep it a whole year. Next Teachers' Day I will write again myself, until it is right.
同桌藏起来的那张贺卡
九月十一日，星期六，晴。
昨天是教师节，我要把同桌赵一凡的事记下来，因为他死活不让我写，我偏要写。
材料是他提前一周准备的。他从家里带来一张米色的硬纸板，说是他爸寄快递剩的，扔了可惜。他又用零花钱去文具店买了一小支胶水、一包贴纸，贴纸是向日葵图案的，一版十二朵。每天课间他都趴在那儿裁裁贴贴，贴歪一朵就整排撕掉重来。我笑他小题大做，他说班主任带他们六年就剩这一年了，贺卡不能糊弄。
写祝福语那天早读，他撕了两回纸。第一回写完他看了看，揉成一团塞进桌洞；第二回写到一半笔没水了，他甩了半天甩不出字，干脆撕了。最后他写的是：周老师，您嗓子哑了还接着上课，那节课您喝了六口水，我都数着呢。您别嫌我们吵。我瞥见的时候，字歪歪扭扭，可是每一个都用力特别大，纸背都压出了印子。
放学时班主任去开会，赵一凡趁办公室没人，把贺卡塞进她笔袋的夹层里，动作快得像做贼。我在校门口等他，他一路搓手，说老师会不会觉得他肉麻。
今天周一，第一节课铃响，周老师进教室，从笔袋夹层里抽出那张贺卡，就站在讲台上念了出来。念到“那节课您喝了六口水，我都数着呢”，她停下来，转过身去，在黑板上写了今天的课题，写完才转回来，声音有点哑，说：这是我今年收到的最好的贺卡。全班鼓掌，赵一凡的头低得快埋进桌洞里，耳朵通红。我看见他偷偷把桌洞里那两团废纸拿出来，展平，夹进了语文书。
我在日记里写：原来感恩不是肉麻，是数出来的六口水。下周开运动会，我俩约好了，给带我们训练的体育老师喊加油，要喊全场最响的那个。
The Card My Deskmate Hid
September 11th, Saturday, sunny.
Yesterday was Teachers' Day. I am writing down what my deskmate Zhao Yifan did, because he begged me not to, so I insist.
He prepared his materials a week ahead. He brought a piece of beige cardboard from home, saying his father had kept it from a delivery package, too good to throw away. He also spent pocket money on a small bottle of glue and a sheet of stickers, sunflower pattern, twelve per sheet. Every break he bent over it, cutting and pasting. If one sunflower went crooked, he tore off the whole row and started over. I teased him for making a big deal of it. He said the form teacher had led their class for six years and this was the last one; a card cannot be sloppy.
The morning he wrote the message, he tore up paper twice. The first time he finished, looked at it, and crumpled it into his desk cubby. The second time his pen ran out of ink halfway; he shook it forever with no result and simply tore the page. What he finally wrote was: Teacher Zhou, your voice was hoarse and you kept teaching anyway. That lesson you drank water six times, and I was counting. Please do not find us noisy. When I glimpsed it, the characters were crooked, yet each stroke pressed so hard the back of the paper carried dents.
After school the form teacher went to a meeting. Zhao Yifan, finding the office empty, slipped the card into the inner pocket of her pen case, moving fast like a pickpocket. I waited for him at the school gate. He rubbed his hands the whole way, asking whether the teacher would think him cheesy.
This Monday, first period, Teacher Zhou walked in, pulled the card from the pen case pocket, and read it aloud standing at the podium. When she reached that lesson you drank water six times and I was counting, she stopped, turned around, wrote the topic of the day on the blackboard, then turned back, her voice a little hoarse, and said: this is the best card I received this year. The whole class applauded. The head of Zhao Yifan sank almost into his desk, ears bright red. I watched him quietly take the two crumpled balls out of his cubby, flatten them, and tuck them into his Chinese textbook.
In my diary I wrote: gratitude is not cheese; it is six mouthfuls of water, counted.
Next week is the sports meet. He and I have agreed: when we cheer for the PE teacher who trains us, we will be the loudest in the whole ground.
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