A questão refere-se ao texto abaixo.
A CHRISTMAS STORY
[1] My five-year-old daughter knew exactly what she wanted for Christmas of 1977, and told me so. Yes, she
[2] still would like the pink-and-green plastic umbrella with a clear top she’d been talking about. It was great to
[3] observe patterns of rain drops. Books, long flannel nightgown, fuzzy slippers – fine. But really, there was only one
[4] thing that mattered: a Barbie Townhouse, with all the accessories.
[5] This was a surprise. Rebecca was not a Barbie girl, she preferred stuffed animals to dolls, and didn’t like to
[6] play in a structured environment. She was always a make-up-the-rules, design-your-own-world, do-it-my-way kid.
[7] Maybe, I thought, the point wasn’t Barbie, but the house, a domicile she could claim for herself, since we’d
[8] already moved five times during her brief life.
[9] Next day, I stopped at the mall. The huge Barbie Townhouse box was adorned with exclamations: “Three
[10] Floors of High-Styled Fun!” “Elevator Can Stop on All Floors!” “Some Assembly Required.”
[11] Uh-oh. My track record for assembling things was miserable. Brooklyn-born, I was raised in apartment
[12] buildings in a family that didn’t build things. A few years earlier, I’d spent one week assembling a six-foot-tall
[13] jungle gym from a kit containing so many parts, I spent the first five days sorting and weeping and the last two
[14] trying to figure out _____ there were so many leftover pieces. The day after I finished building it, as if to remind
[15] me of my limitations, a tornado touched down close enough to scatter the jungle gym across an acre of field.
[16] I started assembling the Barbie Townhouse on Christmas Eve. Making it level, keeping the columns and the
[17] door from looking like they’d melted and been refrozen, and getting that elevator to work were almost more than I
[18] could manage. And building it in curse-free silence so my daughter would continue sleeping – if, in fact, she was
[19] sleeping – added a layer of challenge. By dawn I was done.
[20] Shortly thereafter, my daughter walked into the living room, stuffed bear tucked under her arm, pretending to
[21] be shocked and looking as tired as I did. Her surprise may have been false, but her delight was utterly genuine
[22] and moves me to this day, 36 years later. Rebecca had spurred me to do something I didn’t think I could do. It was
[23] for her, and – like so much of the privilege of being her father – it brought me further outside myself and let me
[24] overcome doubts about my capacities.
[25] Now that I think about it, there probably was real surprise in her first glimpse of her Barbie Townhouse. Not
[26] at the gift itself but that it had been built and remained standing in the morning light. Or maybe it was simpler than
[27] that: Maybe she was surprised because she’d planned on building the thing herself.
Fonte: SKLOOT, Floyd. A Christmas story. Disponível em: <http://www.rd.com/true-stories/inspiring/holiday-stories-some-assembly-required/>. Acesso em: 12 ago. 2013. (Adaptado)
O pronome it (linha 18) refere-se
