The White Envelope　白色的信封

The White Envelope　白色的信封

◎ Nancy W. Gavin

It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

這封小小的白色信封在我家的圣誕樹上已經(jīng)有十多年了。信封上沒有姓名，沒有地址，也沒有留言。

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas—oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it—overspending... the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for grandma—the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.

一切是因為我丈夫邁克不喜歡圣誕節(jié)——哦，并不是真正意義上的圣誕節(jié)，而是被商業(yè)化的圣誕節(jié)——超支了……為了給哈利叔叔買領(lǐng)帶，給奶奶買除塵粉，他在圣誕節(jié)來臨之際瘋狂地跑這跑那——只能送這些禮物，因為根本也想不出別的東西。

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

正是因為我知道他的感受，于是有一年，我決定打破常規(guī)（平時都送些襯衫、毛衣或領(lǐng)帶之類的東西）。我的靈感突現(xiàn)，想為邁克準(zhǔn)備一個特殊的禮物。

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

那年，我的兒子凱文12歲，正在學(xué)校里練習(xí)初級摔跤。就在圣誕節(jié)前不久，他們要舉行一項非職業(yè)性的比賽，由市里一家教堂贊助費用。那些年輕人穿的運動鞋破舊不堪，好像腳上就只剩下鞋帶了。我們這邊的孩子與他們形成了鮮明的對比——一律身著金藍色的制服和嶄新的摔跤鞋。

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.

比賽開始后，我驚異地發(fā)現(xiàn)對方選手沒有戴專業(yè)頭盔，那種保護摔跤選手耳朵的輕型護頭。那種頭盔對他們這樣的隊伍來說太奢侈了，明顯負擔(dān)不起。因此，最終我們隊給了他們猛烈的打擊，并且也贏得了所有重量級的比賽。當(dāng)那些男孩從墊子上站起來時，還故意穿著破舊的衣服，虛張聲勢地走來走去，帶著一種不承認失敗的街頭傲慢。

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won.” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”

邁克坐在我旁邊，悲哀地搖搖頭，“我真希望他們中有人能贏過我們，他們很有潛力，但輸?shù)眠@么慘，可能會使他們失去信心?！?

Mike loved kids—all kids—and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent the anonymously to the inner-city church.

邁克之所以會有這樣的想法，是因為他喜歡小孩——所有的小孩他都喜歡——他了解他們，他曾經(jīng)擔(dān)任過一些小團隊的教練，像足球隊、壘球隊和長曲棍球隊。一天下午，我去本地的一家體育用品店買了一套摔跤專用的護頭和鞋子，并匿名把東西送給市里的教會。

On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.

在圣誕節(jié)前夜，我把一個信封掛在了圣誕樹上，里面寫的是我所做的事，這是我送給邁克的禮物。在那年的圣誕節(jié)里，他的笑容比以往多少年來都要燦爛。

For each Christmas, I followed the tradition—one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

每年圣誕節(jié)，我都遵循這樣一個傳統(tǒng)——有一年是讓一些殘障兒童參加冰球比賽，有一年是看望了兩位老年兄弟，他們的房屋在圣誕節(jié)前一星期被大火燒為平地，等等。

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

信封成為我們過圣誕節(jié)時最重要的東西。圣誕節(jié)的早晨，信封總是最后一個被拆開。孩子們也顧不上他們的新玩具了，個個瞪著大大的眼睛，站著那里期待著爸爸把信封從圣誕樹上摘下來，把里面的內(nèi)容讀給他們聽。

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn’t end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.

孩子們漸漸長大，他們都要更實際的禮物，不再要玩具了，但是信封的吸引力從來沒有消失過。故事并沒有在此結(jié)束，邁克在去年患上可怕的癌癥離開了我們。圣誕節(jié)來臨的時候，我們?nèi)猿两诒粗?，甚至都沒有裝飾圣誕樹。在圣誕前夕，我在樹上掛了一封信，到了早晨，信卻變成了三封。

Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

我們的每個孩子，都趁其他人不注意的時候，在圣誕樹上放了一封寫給爸爸的信。這個傳統(tǒng)一直延續(xù)著，有一天我們的孫子也會站在圣誕樹旁，眼睛瞪得大大的，望著他們的爸爸取下信封。邁克的靈魂，就像圣誕節(jié)的精神一樣，將永遠和我們在一起。

May we all remember the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and always. God bless—pass this along to your friends and loved ones.

愿我們都能牢記過這個節(jié)日的原因，永遠記住真正的圣誕精神。愿上帝保佑我們——把這篇文章也送給你的朋友和你所愛的人。

超多雙語閱讀，盡在聽力課堂