I made the Children cocoa as they wrapped the presents. When they' d tied the last bow, they looked up expectantly. "How long did this all take?" I asked Drew.
Glancing at his notes, he said, "It took us 28 minutes to get to town and 15 minutes to buy the presents. Then it was 38 minutes to get home, because we had to buy gas."
"And how long did it take us to wrap the boxes?" Eleanor asked.
"Each of you did one present in two minutes, " Drew said.
"And how many minutes will it take to mail these presents?" I asked.
"Fifty-six minutes, round trip, " Drew figured. "If we don' t need gas."
"But you forgot standing-in-line time. " said Sarah.
"Okay, " Drew said. "We need to add about 15 minutes for mailing."
"So, what' s the total time we' d spend to give someone a present?"
Drew did the arithmetic. "Two hours and 34 minutes."
I laid a piece of stationery, an envelope and a pen beside each child' s cocoa cup. "Now please write a thank-you note. Be sure to mention the present by name and tell what fun you' ll have using it."
Silence reigned as the children gathered their thoughts; soft pen scrathes followed. "Done. " said Eleanor, pressing her envelope closed.
"Me too. " echoed Sarah.
"That took us three minutes. " Drew said, sealing his letter.
"Is three minutes too much to ask to thank someone for a thoughtful gift that may have taken two and a half hours to choose and send to you?" I asked.
The children looked down at the table and shook their heads.
"It' s a good idea to get in the habit now. In time you' ll want to write thank-you notes for many things."
Drew groaned. "Like what?"
"Like dinners or lunches. Or weekends at someone' s home or the time someone takes to give you advice on college applications or careers."
"Did you have to write thank-yous when you were a kid?" Drew asked.
"Absolutely."
"What did you say?" he asked. I could tell he was formulating the rest of his thank-you notes.
"It was a long time ago. " I said.
Then I remembered Uncle Arthur, my great-grandfather' s youngest brother. I' d never met him, yet every Christmas he sent me a gift. He was blind and lived in Salem, Mass. His niece Bacca, who lived next door, sat down with him and wrote out 5 checks to his great and great-great-grand nieces and nephews. I always wrote, telling him what I' d spent his check on.
When I went to school in Massachusetts, I had the chance to visit Uncle Arthur. As we chatted, he told me he' d always enjoyed my notes.
"You remember them?" I asked.
"Yes, "he replied. "I' ve saved some of my favorites." He waved toward a highboy by the window."Would you get the packet of letters out of the top drawer?" he asked. "It' s wrapped in ribbon."
I found an old letter with my handwriting and read aloud:"Dear Uncle Arthur, I am writing this to you as I sit under the hair dryer at the beauty salon. Tonight is the Holiday Ball at the high school and I am spending your Christmas check having my hair done for the party. Thank you so very much. I know I' ll have a wonderful time, in part because of your thoughtful gift. Love, Faith."
"And did you?" he asked.
I thought back to that wonderful evening so many years ago. "Definitely. " I replied with a smile that I wished Uncle Arthur could see.
Sarah' s tug at my sleeve pulled me back to the present. "What are you smiling at?" she asked.
I told the children about Uncle Arthur' s gifts and how glad I was that I' d written a note each year. They obviously meant a lot to him.
"And did you look beautiful?" asked Sarah.
"My date thought I did."
"Who did you go to the ball with? What did you wear?" asked Eleanor.
"I think I have a picture of that evening. " I said, going to the bookshelves and pulling down a scrapbook. I opened it to a picture of me standing in front of my parents' fireplace. I' m wearing a black velvet evening dress, and my hair is arranged in an elaborate French twist. Beside me, a handsome young man beams as he hands me a corsage.
"But that' s Daddy!" Eleanor said with surprise.
I nodded and smiled.
As the children settled down to finish the rest of their notes, I stroked the faded petals of the dried gardenia pasted next to the photograph.
This Christmas, Bob mad I celebrated our 36th wedding anniversary. Thank you, Uncle Arthur.
将孩子抚养成人， 最开心的事之一就是不必再为他们写感谢信了。在三个孩子小的时候，我总是把他们口述的谢意加在他们的里作为礼物。然而，当埃利诺、萨和德鲁长大了，能写感谢信时，却总是在我的催促下才去写。
“你们写信谢谢格兰蒂送的那本书了吗？”我问道。“还有那件毛衣，你们跟多萝茜姑妈说什么了吗？”而我得到的回答总是喃喃自语或是耸耸肩。
一年，在圣诞节后的几天，我实在厌倦了唠叨，而孩子们只把妈妈的话当做耳旁风。迫于无奈，我只好宣布，都不能玩新玩具或是穿新衣服，除非写出合适的感谢信寄出去。他们还是磨磨蹭蹭，不停地抱怨。
我“啪”的一声打开车门，说：“全部上车。”
萨疑惑地问：“我们要去哪儿？”
“去买圣诞礼物。”
她边穿大衣边抗议着：“但是圣诞节已经过了啊！”
“别争辩了！”我坚定地说。
孩子们一个个上了车。我告诉他们：“你们将会了解到，那些关心爱护你们的人为给你们准备礼物花了多长时间。”
我交给德鲁一个笔记本和一支铅笔，说：“把我们离家的时间记下来。”
抵达村子时，德鲁把时间记了下来。孩子们在当地的一家店铺里帮我挑选礼物，准备送给我的姐妹们。之后，我就掉转车头，回家了。
一下车，孩子们就向雪橇跑去。“别急，” 我说，“我们必须把礼物包装好。” 他们垂头丧气地回来了。
我问：“德鲁，你记下到家的时间了吗？”他点点头。“好的，把女孩们包装礼物的时间也记下来。”
孩子们为礼品打包的同时，我为他们准备了可可茶。包装完最后一个时，他们扬起头看着我，满怀期待。我问德鲁：“总共用了多长时间？”
德鲁看了看记录，说：“进城用了28分钟，买礼物用了15分钟，由于路上要加油，因此回家用了38分钟。”
埃利诺问：“包装礼物花了多长时间？”
“你们每人包装一份礼物需要两分钟。”德鲁答道。
“去邮寄这些礼物需要多久？” 我问。
德鲁算了算说：“如果不加油，56分钟就可完成所有路程。”
“但是，你把排队的时间忘了。” 萨说。
“好吧，”德鲁说，“那在邮寄时间上再加15分钟左右。”
“那么，送一份礼物总共需要花费多长时间呢？”
德鲁计算着，说道：“2小时34分钟。”
接着，我在每个孩子的可可±旁都放上了信纸、信封和笔。“请立刻写一封感谢信，并确保信中提到礼物的名字，以及使用时带给你们怎样的欢乐。”
孩子们沉默了下来，构思着，很快便传来钢笔的沙沙声。埃利诺折好信封，说：“写好了。”
“我也一样，” 萨随声附和道。
“我们用了三分钟。” 德鲁说着，并把信封好。
“别人把用两个半小时，并精心准备的礼物送给你们，而你们只需花三分钟写封感谢信，这也算麻烦吗？” 我问。
孩子们低头看着桌子，摇了摇头。
“最好的主意就是从现在起，养成写感谢信的习惯。将来，对于很多事情，你们都要及时写感谢信。”
德鲁咕哝着：“什么时候写？”
“比如，吃晚餐或午餐，或在别人家度周末，或当别人为你的大学申请或事业提出建议时写。”
“您小时候也得写感谢信吗？” 德鲁问。
“当然。”
“您都会写什么呢？” 他问。看来是想把我所说的作为今后写感谢信的套路。
“那些事已经过去很久了。”我说。
接着，我回忆起了阿瑟叔叔，他是我曾祖父最小的弟弟。虽然我从未见过他，但每到圣诞节他都会送我礼物。双目失明的他住在马萨诸塞州的赛伦。他的侄女贝卡就住在他隔壁，也常会坐下来和他一起为他远房的孙侄女和孙侄子开出一张张5美元的支票。而我总会写信告诉他，我是怎么花那些钱的。
