Страница 3 из 5
From inside the coat, Jim took something tied in paper. He threw it upon the table.
“I want you to understand me, Dell,” he said. “Nothing like a haircut could make me love you any less |конечно же, я не буду тебя любить меньше из-за твоей стрижки|. But if you’ll open that, you may know what I felt when I came in.”
White fingers pulled off the paper. And then a cry of joy; and then a change to tears.
For there lay The Combs |Там были гребни для волос| – the combs that Della had seen in a shop window and loved for a long time. Beautiful combs, with jewels, perfect for her beautiful hair. She had known they cost too much for her to buy them. She had looked at them without the least hope of owning them. And now they were hers, but her hair was gone.
But she held them to her heart, and at last was able to look up and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!”
And then she jumped up and cried, “Oh, oh!”
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful gift |еще пока не видел. На тот момент|. She held it out to him in her open hand. The gold seemed to shine softly as if with her own warm and loving spirit.
“Isn’t it perfect, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at your watch a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how they look together.”
Jim sat down and smiled.
“Della,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas gifts away and keep them a while. They’re too nice to use now. I sold the watch to get the money to buy the combs. And now I think we should have our di
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men – who brought gifts to the newborn Christ-child. They were the first to give Christmas gifts. Being wise |будучи мудрыми|, their gifts were doubtless wise ones. And here I have told you the story of two children who were not wise. Each sold the most valuable thing he owned in order to |для того, чтобы| buy a gift for the other. But let me speak a last word to the wise of these days: Of all |из всех тех| who give gifts, these two were the most wise. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are the most wise. Everywhere they are the wise ones. They are the magi.
There is only one day that is ours. There is one day when all Americans go back to the old home and eat a big di
Sometimes he talks about the people who had the first Thanksgiving. They were the Puritans. They were some people who landed on our Atlantic shore. We don’t really remember much about them.
But those people ate a large bird called turkey on the first Thanksgiving Day. So we have turkey for Thanksgiving di
Yes. Thanksgiving Day is the one day of the year that is purely |исключительно| American. And now here is the story to prove to you that we have old traditions in this new country. They are growing older more quickly than traditions in old countries. That is because we are so young and full of life. We do everything quickly.
Stuffy Pete sat down on a seat in the New York City park named Union Square. It was the third seat to the right as you enter Union Square from the east.
Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had sat down there |он сидел там вплоть до этого момента в рассказе| at one in the afternoon. Every time, things had happened to him. They were wonderful things. They made his heart feel full of joy—and they filled another part of him, too. They filled the part below his heart.
On those other Thanksgiving Days he had been hungry. (It is a strange thing. There are rich people who wish to help the poor. But many of them seem to think that the poor are hungry only on Thanksgiving Day.)
But today Pete was not hungry. He had come from a di
For Stuffy Pete was overheated with the warmth of all he had had to eat |от всего того, что ему пришлось съесть|. The di
So he sat, very, very full. He looked out at the world without interest, as if it could never offer him anything more.
The di
He had been passing a large house near the begi
Stuffy Pete sat in the park looking straight before him for ten minutes. Then he felt a desire to look in another direction. With a very great effort, he moved his head slowly to the left.
Then his eyes grew wider and his breath stopped. His feet in their torn shoes at the ends of his short legs moved about |болтались| on the ground.
For the Old Gentleman was coming across Fourth Avenue toward Stuffy’s seat.
Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years the Old Gentleman had come there to find Stuffy Pete on his seat. That was a thing that the Old Gentleman was trying to make into a tradition |превратить в традицию|. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had found Stuffy there. Then he had led Stuffy to a restaurant and watched him eat a big di
They do these things more easily in old countries like England |часто в английском слово “they” – “они” не означает никого конкретного, это просто “люди”. Перевод этого предложения – в старых странах подобные вещи делаются чаще. Кем делаются? Людьми|. They do them without thinking about them.
But in this young country, we must think about them. In order to build |to build – это строить, но это еще и создать| a tradition, we must do the same thing again and again for a long time. The Old Gentleman loved his country. He believed he was helping to build a great American tradition. And he had been doing very well. Nine years is a long time here.