One spring, when I was 10, during one of my father’s layoffs, I could tell my mother was unhappy. I decided to cheer her up by buying her a special Mother’s Day gift. One day after school I rode my bike to the Agins, which, I learned years later, was known for its high-end fashions and style. I introduced myself to Sylvia Agins, telling her I was looking for a Mother’s Day present. “Do you think she’d like a purse?” she asked. “I think she might.” I told her. She took out an Italian handbag made of leather. She asked me what I thought, and I told her that my mom would like it. “How much money do you have?” she asked. “Twelve dollars,” I said. “You’re in luck,” she told me. “It’s only $11. You have a dollar left over for the card.” She wrapped the purse and thanked me for my business, and I rode off home with the package under my arm. When my mother opened the gift the next Sunday morning, she asked in an accusing tone, “Where did you get this?” “I bought it at the Agins. It cost me $11.” I said. My mother was shocked into silence. It wasn’t until many years later, when I learned that the purse was worth several hundred dollars, that I appreciated just how wonderful Sylvia Agins had been to me. I always felt regretful that I never had a chance to properly thank her. “You know, my son, what really amazes me to this day,” my mother said. “Letting you have the purse for just a few dollars was unbelievable enough. But the fact that she let you leave the store with a dollar for the card was a touch of kindness that I’ll never forget.” 小题1:The author bought his mother a purse to_________.
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