刈草坪的童年
人生百味
作者：by Francesca Biller
Freshly cut grass was the smell I
most remember from my childhood neighborhood， mowed and 1）manicured by young dimpled boys before and after school， but mostly on weekends in between wide-eyed bike rides and 2）stick ball-playing in the street.
On any given day you might see Chris， Brent or Phillip wipe sweat from their brows with their youth-3）calloused hands as they whistled and mowed the lawns of the Anderson family， the Portner’s or the Wood bunch， with their 4）sprawling yellow house and seven lapping dogs.
“See you at the Pier after I get done，”Chris would yell to Phillip， whom we all called Philly.
Philly would not say anything， but would raise up one of his hands as he was a particularly good mower and wanted to earn his two dollars and fifty cents an hour to save up for a new 5）Schwinn bicycle.
The boys were about thirteen or fourteen at most， not yet men but no longer young-heeled babes who ran tirelessly after the ice cream truck for the cold comforts of childhood.
Whether or not kids were expected to do their fair share was not an idea that occurred to anyone on the streets where we lived.
My father often recalled his first job as a paper boy and then as a gas station attendant. He told us there was no greater feeling than working and getting “that first tip”， his first paycheck and buying a soda pop or comic book on his own dime.
My mother worked on her family farm， beginning at the age of four， and picked ripened coffee beans under the vast， widening skies of Hawaii during World War II. She worked with her four siblings while they sang made-up songs about school， their friends and the dreams they shared.
Philly eventually bought that bike and couldn’t help but ride it in front of my house at least twice a day， while he jumped curbs and mussed up his hair on purpose just to make me look.
Brent was saving up to put himself through college， since his father told him that “an education had to be earned if it was to be learned at all.”
As for Chris， he spent all of his earnings on a 1969 Blue 6）Dodge Dart as soon as he was allowed to drive. When he got that car， all the girls in the neighborhood lined up each morning for a ride to school. Chris was smart.
No one I knew was given a car because they got good grades， because they behaved， or because“they simply existed as children.”
We all had chores， we were expected to have respect without rewards， and our parents 7）ruled the roost.
This meant that my sisters， my brother and I were all physically active. When we weren’t cutting grass， walking to the corner store to buy a gallon of milk for mom， or taking turns cleaning the bathrooms or sweeping out the shed， we played outside.
We knew it was time for dinner when the sun had nearly set， and that meant setting the table was a 8）tall order， as we scurried home sweaty and tired from hours of playing 9）dodge ball， 10）hopscotch and baseball games that we played without the cheers of our dads， because all of our dads worked.
All this work and play meant obesity was not a childhood 11）epidemic.