All language subtitles for Punky Brewster s02e11 The Gift.eng

Maybe the world is blind or just a little unkind,

don't know.

Seems you can't be sure of anything anymore.

Although, you may be lonely, and then one day

you're smiling again.

Every time I turn around, I see the girl

who turns my world around standing there.

Every time I turn around, her spirit's

lifting me right off the ground.

What's gonna be?

Guess we'll just wait and see.

Hi, Mr. Fulton.

Hi, Linda.

I'm emptying your trashcan now,

and then I have to mop the hall.

-You know what?

Ever since you started working here,

the school has never been so clean.

-Really?

-Really.

I don't have to use a mirror anymore.

I just check out my hands and face in your shiny floors.

-This is the first job anybody would ever give me.

My mom said I would get fired, but my dad

said, go for it, Cupcake.

So I went for it.

-I'm glad you did.

-I always wanted to go to regular school like everybody

else, but they wouldn't let me because I was too dumb.

Isn't that funny?

-Why is that funny?

-The man said I-- I wasn't smart enough

to get in regular school, and-- and now I

go to regular school every day, and-- and the same man

has to pay me for it.

I'm not too dumb.

-No.

- Here, Mr. Fulton.

This sticker is for you.

-For me?

-It means you're cool.

-Not as cool as you, Linda.

Not nearly as cool.

-Hi, Linda.

-Hi, Punky.

-I got all the way home and realized

I left my spelling book in my locker.

- No! Lo-- look.

The-- the-- the-- this floor's supposed to be clean.

That-- that's my job.

These little feet are not supposed to be here.

-I'm sorry, Linda.

Here, let me help you.

-This floor is supposed to be clean.

I-- I'm going to get fired.

-I'm the one that got the mud on your floor.

If they fire anyone, they'll fire me.

Only the law says I have to go to school,

so they can't fire me.

-You're funny, Punky.

I like you.

-Thanks, Linda.

I like you, too.

-Most of the kids here laugh at me and call me dummy.

They think I don't understand them, but-- but I do.

-Don't pay any attention to that.

Kids are always calling people names.

You know what they call me?

-What?

-Gunky.

-I'll never call you Gunky.

-Thanks.

-Hey, do you like stickers?

-Sure, everybody does.

-You wanna see my sticker book?

-Yeah!

You've got the glittery ones, too.

-Here, this is for you.

It says "number one friend."

-Thanks, Linda.

This is neat.

See you tomorrow.

-Bye.

-Bye. Punky.

Punky.

-Don't you think you should stop playing with those stickers

and start doing your homework?

-I don't have any homework.

-Since when?

-Since I finished it this afternoon.

-Now there's a smart girl.

-Henry, what makes a person smart?

-Their brain.

-Why doesn't everybody have the same brain?

-Because if there was only one brain,

we'd have to take a number to think.

-No, I mean, why are some people smarter than other people?

-What other people do you mean?

-Well, like my friend Linda.

She works at school.

She's mentally retarded.

-Why would God make a person retarded?

-Punky, the world is made up of all kinds of people.

Some are rich. Some are poor.

Some are rich. Some are poor. Some are poor. Some are tall.

Some are poor. Some are tall.

Some are short.

Some are smart, and others are not.

-But why?

Sure doesn't seem fair to all the poor, dumb, short people.

-That's because you're looking at them

as poor, dumb, short people.

You're looking at what they don't have,

rather than what they do.

-I don't get it.

-You said Linda was your friend.

Tell me, what do you like about her?

-Lots of things.

She's friendly.

She works real hard.

She's pretty.

-Seems like Linda has a lot of wonderful qualities.

-She does.

She's terrific.

-She doesn't seem like someone you should feel sorry for.

-Even though she's mentally retarded?

-Punky, you're doing it again.

You're looking at what she doesn't have.

You shouldn't pity Linda because she's not as smart as you.

That's like a giraffe feeling sorry for all the other animals

because their necks are not as long as his.

-Or like a centipede feeling sorry for me 'cause

I don't have 100 legs. Exactly.

-Henry, can you imagine trying to find me

100 different colored tennis shoes?

-Or worse, can you imagine lacing them all up?

Punky, I'm very glad Linda is your friend.

-Me, too.

And I think you're right, Henry.

-About what?

-I can be a better friend if I stop feeling sorry for her.

Thanks, Henry.

You must be the wisest man in the whole world.

-Really?

-Really.

-If I'm so wise, why did I replant

this begonia in the same pot?

-OK, class, let's move to the next one.

OK, now who can tell me the name of this instrument?

Margaux?

-Is it a clarinet?

-No, but it is a woodwind instrument.

Allen, take a guess.

-A woodwind.

A woodwind.

Wait, don't tell me.

Don't tell me.

I got it!

It's a buffoon.

-Allen, the only buffoon in this class is you.

He means a bassoon. -Yeah, right.

Of course.

I knew that all along.

It's a bassoon.

-No, it isn't.

-I didn't think so.

Thanks a lot, Margaux.

-OK now, Cherie, what is the name of this woodwind

instrument that isn't a clarinet and isn't a bassoon.

-I'll bet it isn't a trombone.

-I'll bet you're right.

-See, this is an oboe.

Now, this last one isn't easy.

Who can tell me the name of this instrument?

-It's a violin.

-What a dunce.

-As Linda has told us, this is a violin.

Now class, I want you all to listen to this violin solo.

Take out some paper.

Now, as you listen to the music, I

want you to draw whatever comes to your mind.

-You want us to draw a picture of music?

-That's right.

You see, Punky, music is an emotional expression.

It makes us feel.

OK now, just close your eyes and listen, and draw what you feel.

[MUSIC -- ROBERT SCHUMANN,

-Hey, guys!

Look at Linda!

Next she's gonna play a mop solo.

-Linda!

Way to go, Allen.

Allen, you hurt Linda's feelings.

-Did not.

Can't hurt her feelings.

She's a retard.

-Stand up, Allen.

Come here.

-Yes, Mr. Fulton?

-Allen you will never again us the word

"retard" in this classroom.

Where do you get off making fun of someone's disability?

Now, would you have laughed at Linda

if she walked on crutches?

-No.

But she did look kind of funny playing a feather duster.

-Allen, I'm ashamed of you.

-So am I. I'm sorry.

-Mike, can I go and see if Linda's all right?

-Sure, Punky.

But if you can't find her on this floor,

come right back to class. -I will.

-And as for you, Mr. Anderson, on my desk tomorrow

morning, I want a three-page report on the Special Olympics.

-What's that?

-You have until 9 o'clock tomorrow morning to find out.

And be prepared to read the report to the entire class.

-But, Mike, I don't read so good out loud.

Everybody will laugh at me.

-No, they won't.

Thanks to you, this class has learned a lesson

about what's funny and what isn't.

-Know what, Mike?

-What?

-I'm pig dirt.

-There you are.

-Did you come to laugh at me too?

-I never laugh at you.

I'm your number one friend, remember?

-I'm too dumb to be anybody's friend.

I hate being dumb.

-Please, don't cry, Linda.

-I can't help it.

Everybody saw me playing a spray bottle.

Why do I act so stupid?

-That wasn't stupid.

I play pretend all the time.

-You do? -Yeah.

Once I pretended to be Rapunzel.

-The girl with the real long hair?

-I ran down the street with a whole roll

of toilet paper flying from my head.

-Maybe that is a little dumb.

-But of course, I was younger then.

-But I'm grown up.

And I'm still dumb.

And I always will be.

-You know what, Linda?

-What?

-I think we should stop thinking about the things you don't have

and start thinking about the things you do have.

-You do? -Yes.

-What do I have?

-Well, you're one of the nicest people I know.

-I am?

-And you're real pretty.

-I am?

-And you're a good worker.

-I-- I am.

-Matter of fact, you're a wonderful worker.

-That's right. I'm wonderful.

Well, I'll settle for good.

But I-- I broke the rule.

The cleaning ladies must not disturb the class.

And they'll fire me.

-No, they won't fire you.

-Are you sure?

-Positive.

It's hard to find good help these days.

-Thanks, Punky.

You made me feel a lot better.

-That's what number one friends are for.

- Bring it home.

Yeah, help me.

All right, all right, I love ya.

I--

-That was good.

-I was just putting up some musical instruments

for the school tomorrow.

-I'm sorry I disturbed your class.

I broke the rule.

-Don't worry about it.

I'm sorry that Allen made fun of you.

Allen's sorry, too.

-I guess we're all a sorry bunch.

I bet I did look pretty funny.

-Actually, you looked like you were enjoying the music.

-I love music.

You remember that song you were playing today?

-Very good.

It's called "Traumerei."

-"Traumerei."

I know that song.

-You've heard it before?

-No, I never heard it.

I just know how it's supposed to go.

-You do?

-Mhm.

It's like the L train.

-The L train?

What do you mean?

-Where I live, I can hear the train from my window.

I like the sound it makes.

I can tell by the sound how many cars are on the train,

and-- and I don't even have to look.

-That's amazing.

-Sometimes, when I hear the first far away sound,

I-- I can sort of feel what the next part of the sound

will say.

That's the way it was with that song you played.

I just know what will come next. -Really?

Linda, come here.

I want you to try something. -What?

-I-- I just want you to try something.

I want you to play this violin.

-No.

No, no, not me.

-Why not?

-No.

-OK.

-I can't touch it.

I could break it.

I-- and then they would fire-- no, they won't fire me.

It's hard to find good help these days.

Mr. Fulton?

-Yes?

-Yes, I would like to hold that violin.

-Go ahead.

-All right.

OK, let's bring it on home..

-Thank you, girls, for showing us that playing music can

be hard, especially on the ears.

Let's give the girls a round of applause.

Gang, it takes a lot of practice to play an instrument well.

Most musicians are in training all their lives.

-That's just like me.

- Really, Allen?

-Yeah, I've been taking violin lessons for about a year now.

My teacher says I'll probably be taking

lessons till the day I die.

-I see.

Of course, some people are born with a musical gift.

Now, Mozart could play the piano when

he was only three years old.

-But how could he reach the piano?

- They just probably slid a few telephone books

under his Pampers.

-Mike, I'm confused.

-About what?

-That Mozart kid.

How could a three-year-old be smart enough to play the piano?

-Now, that's interesting, Punky.

You see, music is an artistic ability.

And artistic ability is not necessarily

connected to intelligence.

In fact, it's possible for a person with a severe learning

disability to develop musical genius.

And when that happens, it's called the savant syndrome.

-Have you ever met any syndromers?

-As a matter of fact, we all have.

And I've invited her to class to play for us.

Come in, Linda.

-Linda, will you play for us?

Go ahead.

-I'm afraid.

Repair and Synchronization by
Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0