“我明白。”我是如此羞愧，放学后我没有回家，而是直接坐公共汽车来到了多莉姑姑家。她什么事情都能解 决。在那个大多数女性都要嫁人的年代里，她勇敢地选择了单身生活。她还参加过狩猎远征队，和艾森豪威尔 总统握过手，吻过克拉克？盖博(《乱世佳人》男主角)的脸，并打算去游历世界上的每一个国家。最重要的是，她比任何人都能理解我的世界是如何被这个可怕的事实颠覆的。
多莉姑姑给我端来饼干和牛奶。“我该怎么办？”我抽泣着说，“如果我不能唱歌，上帝会以为我不爱他的。”
她的手指在厨房的桌上敲着，眉头紧锁地想着。最后她眼睛一亮，“有办法了！”她说，“我将帽子戴上！”
帽子？一顶帽子怎么能帮我解决“音盲”这个问题？ 多莉姑姑那棕色的眼睛盯着我，声音忽然降了下来。“杰奎琳，我得透露一点儿天使的秘密，但首先你得发誓不告诉任何人。”“我发誓。”我低声说道。
多莉姑姑抓着我的手说：“当我在罗马圣彼得教堂祈祷时，偶然听到旁边座位上的一段对话。他们也是音盲，也担心上帝无法听懂他们无声的歌唱。有人悄悄告诉他们，一小块铝箔就可以解决这个问题。”
“我不明白。”
“你在嘴里默默地念出歌词，它们会通过铝箔反射，天使就能捕捉到这些声音，把它们放到特制的袋子里，然 后送给上帝。这样上帝就能听到你和同学们一起唱赞美歌的美妙声音了。”
虽然听起来有些玄妙，但我能想象天使们这么做。况且多莉姑姑表情严肃，她是不会欺骗我的。
“那我把铝箔藏在哪儿呢？”
“我把它藏在我的帽子里，”多莉姑姑说，“我会坐在前排。不要对凯瑟琳修女和你的父母泄露一个字。”
我的全家都去观看了我的表演。我紧紧盯着她的帽子，根本不去考虑在场的人能否听到我的声音，我沉默的歌 声是唱给上帝一个人听的。多莉姑姑夸我的表演具有“奥斯卡水准”。
4年前多莉姑姑去世了，享年90岁。当我们这些晚辈聚在一起，追忆她时，我们发现我们中的很多人有一个共同 点，那就是关于她的天使帽。一个口吃的外甥盯着她的帽子，完成了一场紧张的演讲；我们当中最胆小的那个 甚至参加了学校的戏剧演出、拼写比赛和天才表演，就因为多莉姑姑戴着她的帽子坐在前排。
她坚定地相信天使就在我们身边、帮我们克服生活中的困难，这使我们这些孩子们做了许多自以为不可能做到 的事。
即使到了现在，当我的世界遭到颠覆时，我还会不时想起多莉姑姑和她的“天使帽”。我童年时的信仰仍然没 有改变：我的家人都爱我；太阳明天早上会升起；在那个难忘的圣诞节表演中，我拥有美妙的声音。我觉得当 天使在我们身边时，一切皆有可能。
participate
【释义】vi. 参与，参加；分享 vt. 分享；分担
【短语】participate in 参加、分享
pageant
【释义】n. 盛会；游行；虚饰；露天表演
【短语】beauty pageant 选美比赛
anticipation
【释义】n. 希望；预感；先发制人；预支
【短语】in anticipation of 期待着…… 预计着……
hesitation
【释义】n. 犹豫
【短语】without drag hesitation 毫不犹豫，不假思索
motion
【释义】n. 动作；移动；手势；请求；意向 vi. 运动
【短语】set in motion开始；调动；把……发动起来
utter
【释义】vt. 发出，表达；发射 adj. 完全的；彻底的；无条件的
safari
【释义】n. 旅行；狩猎远征；旅行队
【短语】Night Safari 夜间动物园，夜狩
revelation
【释义】n. 启示；揭露；出乎意料的事；被揭露的真相
【短语】revelation light 聚光灯
reminisce
【释义】vt. 追忆说 vi. 回忆
【短语】reminisce about 回想；recall reminisce 追想
Sunrise/ 日出
Sunrise on the eastern coast is a special event. I stood at Dolphin，s Nose，a spur jutting out into the Bay of Bengal，to behold the breaking of the sun，s upper limb over the horizon of the sea. As the eastern sky started unfolding like the crimson petals of a gigantic flower，I was overcome by a wave of romantic feelings and nostalgia vivid memory not diminished by the fact that almost ten years had passed.
I was a young bachelor then，and Visakhapatnam did not have much to offer. Every Sunday morning， I used to rise before dawn and head for Dolphin，s Nose，to enjoy the dazzling spectacle of the sun majestically rising out of the sea. The fresh，salty sea breeze was a panacea for all the effects of hangovers caused by Saturday night excesses.
After viewing the metamorphosis at sunrise，I would walk downhill along the steep mountain-path， towards the rocky beach，for a brief swim. Each time，I noticed a flurry of activity in a distant compound with a single decrepit building. I used to ignore it，but curiously，one day I decided to take a closer look. It was a fish market. Most customers were housewives from the nearby residential complexes. They were at their“Sunday-worst”-sans make-up，slovenly dressed，face sun washed，and unkempt hair-in stark contrast with their carefully made-up appearances at the club the previous evening.
I had began to walk away，quite dejected，when I saw her for the first time. I stopped，dead in my tracks. She was a real beauty-tall，fair and freshly bathed，her long lustrous hair dancing on her shoulders. She had large，expressive brown eye and her sharp features were accentuated by the rays of the morning Sun. I can，t begin to describe the sensation she evoked in me； it was the first time in my life that I felt my heart ache with such intense yearning. I knew this was love. Yet，in my heart，I knew that I stood no chance-she had a Mangala sutra around her neck. She was married-maybe happily，too. Nevertheless I drew closer to her and made the pretence of buying some fish. Smiling guardedly at me，she selected a couple of pomfrets and held them out to me. I managed to briefly touch her soft hands-the feeling was electric and a shiver of thrill passed through me. She communicated an unspoken“good-bye”with her teasing，dancing eyes and briskly walked away. Too dazed to follow her，I returned to my room and had fried pomfret for breakfast. Needless to say，they tasted delicious.
Soon，I was following this routine every Sunday morning with almost religious zeal. She never missed her rendezvous with me-same place，same day，at precisely the same time，Seven o，clock. Still，not a word was exchanged between us. I was too shy and she probably wanted to keep it this way-a beautiful ethereal relationship-a love so delicate that one wrong move might ruin everything. Meanwhile，I had developed a taste for fried pomfret-quite surprisingly，considering that I had never eaten fish before.
As the years went by，I left Visakhapatnam and travelled around the world，met many beautiful girl sat the various exotic places I visited. But I never forgot her！ A man，s first love would always have an enduring place in his heart.
And now，I was back in Visakhapatnam，almost ten years later. As I walked down the slope towards the beach，in my mind，s eyes I could still vividly envision the playfully sublime look on her face-her gentle smile and communicative eyes-even if ten years had passed. I could not contain the mounting excitement and anticipation in me； I was desperately yearning to see her again. It was a forlorn hope but I felt flushed with optimism. Reaching the beach，I noticed that the sun was well clear of the horizon. I glanced at my watch-almost seven o，clock. I hastened my step， almost breaking in to a run，and reached the fish market where I stood at the exact same spot， where we used to have our rendezvous at sunrise.
Trembling with anticipation verging on anxiety，I looked around with searching eyes. Nothing had changed. The scene was exactly the same as I had left it ten years ago. There was only one thing missing-she wasn，t there！ I had drawn out the short straw！ I felt crestfallen. My mind went blank and I stood motionless overcome with gloom，when suddenly，I felt that familiar electrifying touch，the same shiver and the familiar thrill. It jolted me back to reality，as quick as lighting. As she softly put two promfret fish in my hand I was feeling in the seventh Heaven.