对我们许多人来说,总有某一个圣诞节因为我们充分感受到这一天的意义而显得格外难忘。我自己的“最真实”的圣诞节发生在我一生中最为凄凉的那一年。
Recently divorced, I was in my 20s, had no job and was on my way downtown to go the rounds of the employment offices. I had no umbrella, for my old one had fallen apart, and I could not afford another one. I sat down in the streetcar--and there against the seat was a beautiful silk umbrella with a silver handle inlaid with gold and necks of bright enamel. I had never seen anything so lovely.
话得从春季的一个雨天开始说起,20多岁的我,刚刚离婚,没有工作,正再一次赶往市中心的求职处。我没带伞,旧伞已经破损,而新的又买不起。我在有轨电车里坐下来,发现座位边有一把漂亮的丝质伞,银把手上面还镶嵌着金子和亮丽的小片珐琅。我从没见过这么漂亮的东西。
I examined the handle and saw a name engraved among the golden scrolls. The usual procedure would have been to turn in the umbrella to the conductor, but on impulse I decided to take it with me and find the owner myself. I got off the streetcar in a downpour and thankfully opened the umbrella to protect myself. Then I searched a telephone book for the name on the umbrella and found it. I called and a lady answered.
我查看了把手,发现在金色的卷轴中刻着一个名字。在这种情况下,人们通常的做法是把伞交给售票员,但我一时冲动决定把伞留着,自己去找失主。我在倾盆大雨中下了车,感激不尽地打开那把伞遮雨。随后我在电话簿里查找伞上的名字,确有其人。我打了个电话,接电话的是一位女士。
Yes, she said in surprise, that was her umbrella, which her parents, now dead, had given her for a birthday present. But, she added, it had been stolen from her locker at school (she was a teacher) more than a year before. She was so excited that I forgot I was looking for a job and went directly to her small house. She took the umbrella, and her eyes filled with tears.
是的,她诧异地说那是她的伞,那是她已故的双