溫馨聖誕小故事：最好的聖誕禮物

That Christmas Eve, the streets of Boston were clogged with tourists and locals bundled in wool and flannel. Shoppers, hawkers, and gawkers whirled and swirled around me.“Frosty the Snowman,”“Let It Snow!”and “Jingle Bells”played in stores; on the sidewalks, the street musicians did their best. Everyone, it seemed, was accompanied by someone else smiling or laughing. I was alone.
那年的聖誕前夕，我走在波士頓的街道上，路人熙熙攘攘，遊客和本地人打扮的衣着光鮮。購物者、小販和路人把我圍在中間。街旁商店播放着聖誕歌曲，走到哪裏都能聽到《結霜的雪人》、《下雪吧》和《鈴兒響叮噹》。人行道上，街頭音樂家賣力的表演着。似乎每個人都有人陪伴，臉上綻放出幸福的笑容。只有我是孤身一人。

The eldest of a Puerto Rican family of 11 children growing up in NewYork’scrowded tenements, I’d spent much of my life seeking solitude. Now, finally, at 27, a college student in the midst of a drown-out breakup of a seven-year relationship, I contemplated what I’d so craved, but I wasn’t quite sure I liked it. Every part of me wanted to be alone, but not at Christmas. My family had returned to Puerto Rico, my friends had gone home during the holiday break, and my acquaintances were involved in their own lives. Dusk was falling, and the inevitable return to my empty apartment brought tears to my king lights from windows and around doors beckoned, and I wished someone would emerge from one of those homes to ask me inside to a warm room with a Christmas tree decorated with tinsel, its velvet skirt sprinkled with shiny fake snow and wrapped presents.
我家是一個波多黎各大家庭，我是家裏的長子，下面還有10個弟弟妹妹，從小生活在紐約城擁擠的租住房裏，在生命的大部分時間， 我都在尋求片刻的孤獨。此時此刻，終於，這個27歲的大學生，結束了一段7年的戀情，得到了他想要的孤獨，可他卻怎麼也高興不起來。我想一個人靜一靜，但不是在聖誕節。我的家人已經返回了波多黎各，我的朋友都放假回家了，我認識的人都有自己的生活要過。天色晚了，想到要回去那空落落的宿舍，眼淚就不爭氣 的冒了出來。城市住家的燈火點亮起來，從門窗透出的閃爍燈光彷彿在召喚着我，我多希望有人會打開房門，邀請我走進那溫暖的房間，房間一角是一株聖誕樹，聖誕彩條將它裝飾的絢爛華麗，天鵝絨的樹擺上點綴着閃亮的雪花和包裹好的禮物

I stopped at the local market, feeling even more depressed as people filled their baskets with goodies. Dates and dried figs, walnuts, pecans, and hazelnuts in their shells reminded me of the gifts we received as children in Puerto Rico on Christmas Day, because the big gifts were given on the morning of the Feast of the Epiphany, on January 6. I missed my family: their rambunctious parties; the dancing; the mounds of rice with pigeon peas; the crusty, garlicky skin on the pork roast; the plantain and yucca pasteles wrapped in banana leaves. I wanted to cry for wanting to be alone and for having achieved it.
我在集市邊停下腳步，看到人們提着裝滿美食的籃子，心中感到愈加失落。棗子、無花果乾、核桃和山核桃，還有帶殼的榛子，讓我想起小時候在波多黎各收到的聖誕禮物。1月6日主顯節上午，我們才能收到的聖誕大禮。我想念我的家人： 想念他們亂糟糟的派對，想念他們的舞蹈，想念香噴噴的木豆米飯，想念烤乳豬的蒜味脆皮，想念芭蕉葉包裹的大蕉絲蘭根。我得到了想要的孤獨，卻忍不住要落下淚來。

In front of the church down the street, a manger had been set up, with Mary, Joseph, and the barn animals in expectation of midnight and the arrival of baby Jesus. I stood with my neighbors watching the scene, some of them crossing themselves, praying. As I walked home, I realized that the story of Joseph and Mary wandering from door to door seeking shelter was much like my own history. Leaving Puerto Rico was still a wound in my soul as I struggled with who I had become in 15 years in the United States. I’d mourned the losses, but for the first time, I recognized whatI’d gained. I was independent, educated, healthy, and adventurous. My life was still before me, full of possibility.
在街道盡頭的教堂前，佈置好了一條馬槽，瑪麗、約瑟夫和馬廄裏的動物們都在期待着午夜到來，耶穌降臨。我和鄰居站在那裏看着這幅場景，有些人手畫十字、低頭禱告。在回家路上，我意識到約瑟夫和瑪麗挨家挨戶尋求庇護的故事就如同我自己的經歷。離開波多黎各始終是我心頭難以化解的痛楚，我一直在想，15年的美國生活讓我變成了一個什麼樣的人。我本應爲我所失去的感到難過，但那一刻，我第一次認識到我獲得了什麼。我是一個獨立的、受過良好教育的、健康的、富有冒險精神的青年。生活的道路就在我的腳下，充滿了無盡的可能性。

Sometimes the best gift is the one you give yourself. That Christmas, I gave myself credit for what I’d accomplished so far and permission to go forward, unafraid. It is the best gift I’ve ever received, the one that I most treasure.
有時候，你送給自己的禮物纔是最好的禮物。那個聖誕節，我送給自己的是肯定和許諾，肯定自己過去的努力，許諾自己將不懼一切，奮勇向前。那是我曾收到過的最好的禮物，我最珍惜的聖誕禮物。