They huddled inside the storm door -- two children in ragged outgrown coats.
他们蜷缩着相互偎依在我家的挡风门栋里——两个衣衫褴褛的孩子,他们的衣服小得不能再小了。
"Any old papers, lady?"
“太太,请问您有旧报纸吗?”
I was busy. I wanted to say no -- until I looked down at their feet. Thin little sandals, sopped with sleet.
当时,我正忙着,本来想对他们说没有,但当我看到他们脚上只穿着一双被冰雪浸湿得再单薄不过的便鞋时,我再也说不出口了。
"Come in and I'll make you a cup of hot cocoa."
“进屋来吧,我来给你们煮一杯热可可茶。”
There was no conversation. Their soggy sandals left marks upon the hearthstone.
默默地他们跟我进了屋,炉边他们浸湿的便鞋留下了一串脚印。
I served them cocoa and toast with jam to fortify against the chill outside.
我给他们端上可可茶和果酱面包,我想这能帮助他们抵御外面的风寒。
Then I went back to the kitchen and started again on my household budget.
然后我回到了厨房,像往常一样,为了明天的生活而精打细算。
The silence in the front room struck through to me. I looked in. The girl held the empty cup in her hands, looking at it.
前屋里没有一点声音,这让我感到很奇怪。我向屋里望去,小女孩手里正端着那个已经喝完了的茶杯,认真地凝视着
The boy asked in a flat voice," Lady ... are you rich?"
“太太,您富有吗?”男孩子语气平缓地问道。
"Am I rich? Mercy, no!" I looked at my shabby slipcovers.
“我富有吗?”我看了看沙发上那寒酸的装饰布,回答说,“天哪,我可算不上。”
The girl put her cup back in its saucer -- carefully.
这时,那个小女孩非常小心地把杯子放回到茶碟里。
"Your cups match your saucers."
“您的杯子和茶碟非常相配。”
Her voice was old, with a hunger that was not of the stomach.
她说话的声音听起来不像是个孩子,带着一种对食物以外的东西的渴望。
They left then, holding their bundles of papers against the wind. They hadn't said thank you.
然后,他们抱着旧报纸,顶着风雪离开了。他们甚至没有说一声“谢谢”
They didn't need to. They had done more than that. Plain blue pottery cups and saucers. But they matched.
是的,他们根本没有必要说,实际上他们所做的比道谢更重要。非常平常的一对兰色陶瓷杯碟,但它们确实很相配。
I tested the potatoes and stirred the gravy.
我查看了一下锅里煮着的土豆然后又搅拌了几下肉汁。
Potatoes and brown gravy, a roof over our heads, my man with a good steady job -- these things matched, too.
有土豆和棕色肉汤可以吃,有房子可以住,我的丈夫有一份很好很稳定的工作--这一切的一切同样也很匹配。
I moved the chairs back from the fire and tidied the living room.
我把椅子从炉边向后拉开些,然后把起居室整理干净。
The muddy prints of small sandals were still wet upon my hearth. I let them be.
地面上留下的泥脚印还没干。
I want them there in case I ever forget again how very rich I am.
是的,我想让它们留在那里,提醒我不要忘了我是多么的富有。
他们蜷缩着相互偎依在我家的挡风门栋里——两个衣衫褴褛的孩子,他们的衣服小得不能再小了。
"Any old papers, lady?"
“太太,请问您有旧报纸吗?”
I was busy. I wanted to say no -- until I looked down at their feet. Thin little sandals, sopped with sleet.
当时,我正忙着,本来想对他们说没有,但当我看到他们脚上只穿着一双被冰雪浸湿得再单薄不过的便鞋时,我再也说不出口了。
"Come in and I'll make you a cup of hot cocoa."
“进屋来吧,我来给你们煮一杯热可可茶。”
There was no conversation. Their soggy sandals left marks upon the hearthstone.
默默地他们跟我进了屋,炉边他们浸湿的便鞋留下了一串脚印。
I served them cocoa and toast with jam to fortify against the chill outside.
我给他们端上可可茶和果酱面包,我想这能帮助他们抵御外面的风寒。
Then I went back to the kitchen and started again on my household budget.
然后我回到了厨房,像往常一样,为了明天的生活而精打细算。
The silence in the front room struck through to me. I looked in. The girl held the empty cup in her hands, looking at it.
前屋里没有一点声音,这让我感到很奇怪。我向屋里望去,小女孩手里正端着那个已经喝完了的茶杯,认真地凝视着
The boy asked in a flat voice," Lady ... are you rich?"
“太太,您富有吗?”男孩子语气平缓地问道。
"Am I rich? Mercy, no!" I looked at my shabby slipcovers.
“我富有吗?”我看了看沙发上那寒酸的装饰布,回答说,“天哪,我可算不上。”
The girl put her cup back in its saucer -- carefully.
这时,那个小女孩非常小心地把杯子放回到茶碟里。
"Your cups match your saucers."
“您的杯子和茶碟非常相配。”
Her voice was old, with a hunger that was not of the stomach.
她说话的声音听起来不像是个孩子,带着一种对食物以外的东西的渴望。
They left then, holding their bundles of papers against the wind. They hadn't said thank you.
然后,他们抱着旧报纸,顶着风雪离开了。他们甚至没有说一声“谢谢”
They didn't need to. They had done more than that. Plain blue pottery cups and saucers. But they matched.
是的,他们根本没有必要说,实际上他们所做的比道谢更重要。非常平常的一对兰色陶瓷杯碟,但它们确实很相配。
I tested the potatoes and stirred the gravy.
我查看了一下锅里煮着的土豆然后又搅拌了几下肉汁。
Potatoes and brown gravy, a roof over our heads, my man with a good steady job -- these things matched, too.
有土豆和棕色肉汤可以吃,有房子可以住,我的丈夫有一份很好很稳定的工作--这一切的一切同样也很匹配。
I moved the chairs back from the fire and tidied the living room.
我把椅子从炉边向后拉开些,然后把起居室整理干净。
The muddy prints of small sandals were still wet upon my hearth. I let them be.
地面上留下的泥脚印还没干。
I want them there in case I ever forget again how very rich I am.
是的,我想让它们留在那里,提醒我不要忘了我是多么的富有。
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