The situation seemed hopeless.

From the first day he entered my junior-high classroom, Willard P. Frank- lin existed in his own world, shutting out his classmates and me, his teacher. My attempts at establishing a friendly relationship with him were met with complete indifference¹. Even a “Good Morning Willar” received only an inau- dible grunt². I could see that his class- mates fared no better. Willard was strict- ly a loner who seemed to have no desire or need to break his barrier of silence.

Shortly after the Thanksgiving holi- day, we received word of the annual Christmas collection of money for the less fortunate people in our school district.

“Christmas is a season of giving,” I told my students. “There are a few students in the school who might not have a happy holiday season. By contributing to our Christmas collection, you will help buy food, clothing and toys for these needy³ people. We start the collection tomorrow.”

When I called for the contributions the next day, I discovered that almost everyone had forgotten. Except for Willard P. Franklin. The boy dug deep into his pants pockets as he strolled⁴ up to my desk. Carefully, he dropped two quarters into the small container.

“I don’t need no milk for lunch,” he mumbled⁵. For a moment, just a mo- ment, he smiled. Then he turned and walked back to his desk.

That night, after school, I took our meager⁶ contributions to the school principal. I couldn’t help sharing the incident that had taken place.

“I may be wrong, but I believe Willard might be getting might be getting ready to become a part of the world around him,” I told the principal.

“Yes, I believe it sounds hopeful,” he nodded. “And I have a hunch⁷ we might do well to have him share a bit of his world with us. I just received a list of the poor families in our school who most need help through the Christmas collection. Here, take a look at it.”

As I gazed down to read, I dis- covered Willard P. Franklin and his family were the top names on the list.

情况好像不可救药了。

自从威拉德·P·富兰克林进入我教的初中班的那天起，他就把自己封闭了起来，不与其他同学交往，也不与我――他的老师――打交道，完全生活在自己的世界里。我试图和他建立起一种友好的关系，但却遭遇冷漠。甚至你跟他说声“早上好，威拉德”，他的回答也只是一声几乎听不见的咕哝声。我明白他的同学受到的待遇也好不到哪儿去，而他完全是一个独行侠，好像不希望也不需要打破这种沉默似的。

感恩节后不久，我们得到一年一度圣诞节募捐的消息，这些钱将用来捐给我们学校所在社区里的穷人。

“圣诞节是个给予的季节，”我告诉学生们，“我们学校有些学生可能不能过一个快乐的节日。你们可以买些食物、衣服或玩具，通过圣诞节的募捐活动，去帮助那些贫困的人。我们明天开始募捐。”

第二天，当我要求募捐的时候，我发现除了威德拉之外，几乎所有的人都把这件事给忘了。他一边向我的桌子走来一边伸手从裤子口袋里掏东西，然后小心翼翼地把两枚25美分的硬币丢进小箱子里。

“我午餐不需要喝牛奶，”他小声说。在那一瞬间，就那一瞬间，他笑了。然后，他转身回到了自己的座位上。

那天晚上，放学后，我把募捐的这一点钱交给了校长，并且忍不住把当天发生的事告诉了他。

“也许我想错了，但我相信可能威德拉正在准备成为这个班集体的一份子，”我告诉校长。

“是的，我认为这听起来有希望，”他点头说道，“我有一种预感，我们或许可以做得好一点，让他与我们分享他的世界。我刚收到一份名单，上面是我们学校里最需要通过圣诞节募捐获得帮助的贫困人员名单。这个，你看一下。”

我低头仔细一看，发现威德拉·P·富兰克林和他的家庭排在名单的最前面。