這一本是 Yvette 最早受到感動的Lionni 小老鼠。

我們常常用實用的觀點來看待家裡的成員，期待他們多少貢獻點什麼：倒垃圾、擦地、洗碗、整理床鋪…什麼的。我們家大麻子和二麻子很誠實，每次在連絡簿的「家事欄」上不知道要寫什麼就寫「耍寶逗全家開心」，他們的家人也覺得這是家事。可是善良熱心的老師通常會諄諄勸勉小朋友要體諒父母和外公外婆，多幫點忙…。然後我們還要反過來安慰小朋友說:「沒關係！我們懂你的意思！」


Yvette 的媽媽把 Yvette 寵壞了，所以才會這樣說話吧？從小，媽媽真心誠意喜歡聽 Yvette 站在廚房和客廳的中間，嘰哩咕嚕嘰哩咕嚕講學校的好笑故事，媽媽都會把小孩趕到邊上去。每逢親戚看不過去,就會說「現在不教，以後小倚薇會嫁不出去。」媽媽都會很不服氣的反駁：「 騙人！我出嫁前什麼家事也沒做過，連生火都不會，現在哪一樣做得比別人差？！」

也許，廚房是她的最後領地，發號施令的地方，神聖不容侵犯。也許，媽媽只是純粹是亂寵小孩的媽媽。

這是我為什麼特別喜歡Fredrick 的原因：那種「沉冤得雪」的感覺。（吼！偷懶還要找藉口！）

Frederick
By Leo Lionni

All along the meadow where the cows grazed and the horses ran, there was an
old stone wall. In that wall, not far from the barn and the granary,
a chatty family of field nice had their home.

But the farmers had moved away, the barn was abandoned, and the granary
stood empty. And since winter was not far off, the little nice began to
gather corn and nuts and wheat and straw. They all worked day and night.

All—except Frederick.

“Frederick, why don’t you work?” they asked.
“I do work,” said Frederick. “I gather sunrays for the cold dark winter days.”
And when they saw Frederick sitting there, staring at the meadow, they said,
“And now, Frederick?”
“I gather colors,” answered Frederick simply. “For winter is gray.”

And once Frederick seemed half asleep. “Are you dreaming, Frederick?”
they asked reproachfully.
But Frederick said, “Oh no, I am gathering words. For the winter days are
long and many, and we’ll run out of things to say.”

The winter days came, and when the first snow fell, the five little field mice
took to their hideout in the stones. In the beginning there was lots to eat,
and the mice told stories of foolish foxes and silly cats. They were a
happy family.

But little by little they had nibbled up most of the nuts and berries,
the straw was gone, and the corn was only a memory. It was cold in the wall
and no one felt like chatting.

Then they remembered what Frederick had said about sunrays and colors and
words. “What about your supplies, Frederick?” they asked.

“Close you eyes,” said Frederick as he climbed onto a big stone. “Now I send you the rays of the sun. do you feel how their golden glow…”

And as Frederick spoke of the sun the four little nice began to feel warmer.
Was it Frederick’s voice? Was it magic?

“And how about the colors, Frederick?” they asked anxiously.
“Close your eyes again,” Frederick said. And when he told them of the blue
periwinkles, they red poppies in the yellow wheat, and the green leaves of
the berry bush, they saw the colors as clearly as if they had been painted in
their minds.

“And the words, Frederick?”
Frederick cleared his throat, waited a moment, and then, as if from a stage, he said:

“Who scatters snowflakes? Who melts the ice?
Who spoils the weather? Who makes it nice?
Who grows the four-leaf clovers in June?
Who dims the daylight? Who lights the moon?

Four little field mice who live in the sky.
Four little field mice … like you and I.
One is the Springmouse who turns on the showers.
Then comes the Summer who paints in the flowers.
The Fallmouse is next with walnuts and wheat.
And Winter is last …with little cold feet.

Aren’t we lucky the seasons are four?
Think of a year with one less … or one more!”

”But, Fredrick,” said the four little Mice,
”You are a poet.”

Fredrick blushed, took a bow and said shyly, ”I know it.”