the lottery ticket读后感

the lottery ticket读后感Next to bullfight and soccer, lotteries are Spain's biggest sport2。

There's some kind of drawing3 almost every week, but the most important of them all is the one held just before Christmas。

Its grand prize is 50 million pesetas4, which is about $1,250,000。

And tax free5, too。

The tickets are sold year round, all over Spain。

Every number is divided into a hundred parts, and most people buy one part, which costs about $1。

When the winning numbers are posted6, nobody in Spain works or eats or thinks of anything else。

Walking along El Prado7 in Madrid that day in the 1950', I passed a cafe where I saw the winning figures posted and excited people looking at them。

Like almost everybody in Spain I had a 1/100 ticket。

My hand was trembling as I took out my wallet and looked at my own ticket。

It was 141415。

Number 141414 won the grand prize。

I was used to not winning, but to be so near 。

Even my 1/100 cut8 would have been about $12,500。

Then I remembered where and how I'd bought my ticket, and I was almost as excited as if I'd won myself。

It had been the summer of last year, when I'd gone to theBalearic Islands9 on vacation。

One night I'd dropped into a little wine shop called the Two Lions, in Palma de Mallorca10。

I liked it。

The shop was cool and comfortable; the wine was excellent and cheap, and everybody liked Hernando, the young man who ran11 the place。

Well, Hernando owned it, but his wife actually ran it—and ran Hernando, too。

I don't know whether Maria was really, physically, bigger than he was, but she seemed so。

She had a sharp voice and black eyes that watched everything in the Two Lions。

If Hernando smiled twice at a pretty Swedish girl or wanted to give credit to12 an old friend—well, Maria would say something sharp, or give him a long, hard look。

And he'd give in, saying, “Yes, my love。

”But that summer night, Maria was visiting her mother in the country。

Hernando was a different man with her gone。

He had a brighter gleam13 in his eye; even his voice sounded deeper as he sang to his guitar。

When a ticket vendor14 came in, Hernando demanded to see what numbers were for sale in the Christmas lottery。

He looked them over; then he took one block15 of numbers and shouted, “A sign! A sign from Heaven!”He took my arm, “Look, my American friend! I am born on the 14th of this month。

And here is a number with my birthday three times —141414!”The vendor smiled and began tearing off the usual 1/100 ticket。

“No!” Hernando shouted。

“When heaven gives a sign, a wise man does not quibble16。

I'll take all of them, the whole hundred!”There was a sudden silence。

A whole number cost about $100, a lot of money for a small-time wine seller。

Somebody said。

“What will Maria say?”That shook Hernando for a moment。

But then, he shouted, “I do what I do!”He did it, too。

He had to empty the cash register17 and even go back into his house to find the rest of the money, but he made it。

Nearly everyone bought some kind of ticket that night。

I took my usual 1/100, from the next number: 141415。

Now, walking slowly along El Prado, I wondered what Hernando would do with the money。

Would he leave his wife, sell the Two Lions and live like a king?It was months before I could get to Palma again。

My plane landed in mid afternoon, and I went straight to the wine shop。

Outside, anyway, nothing seemed different。

I went in and saw Hernando sitting alone at a table reading a newspaper。

He jumped to his feet with a big smile。

“Welcome back, senor18! It has been too long!”Without even asking, he brought a bottle of my favorite white wine。

“Congratulations!” I said to him。

“To the lucky millionaire!” He smiled strangely when I told him how glad I was that nothing had changed。

“Ah, senor,” he said, “much has changed。

You remember the one who asked what would happen when Maria found that I had spent so much money for a whole number?”I nodded, and he shook his head sadly。

“He was right, that one!”Maria had been like ten thousand wildcats。

She had screamed and shouted, insisting he resell his ticket and get the money back。

“Finally I had to agree, senor。

” He said。

“One cannot live in a hurricane19 night and day。

But it wasnot so easy to resell so many tickets。

Still, I have friends—and clients20 who are also friends。

So all but one were sold。

She allowed me to keep only one ticket。

”“If it had happened to me,” I said, “I'd have cut my throat after the drawing, to think of those other winning tickets I'd let go。