流浪的老太太

THE BAG LADY

She used to sleep in the Post Office of Fifth Street. I could smell her before I rounded the entrance to where she slept, standing up, by the public phones. I smelled the urine that seeped through the layers of her dirty clothing and the decay from her nearly toothless mouth. If she was not asleep, she mumbled something.

Now they close the post office at six to keep the homeless out, so she curls up on the sidewalk, talking to herself, her mouth flapping open as though unhinged, her smells weakened by the soft breeze.

One Thanksgiving we had so much food left over, I packed it up, excused myself from the others and drove over to Fifth Street.

It was a very cold night. Leaves were swirling around the streets and hardly anyone was out, all but a few of the luckless in some warm home or shelter. But I knew I would find her.

She was dressed as she always was, even in summer: The warm woolly layers covering her old, bent body. Her bony hands clutched the precious shopping cart. She was squatting against a wire fence in front of the playground next to the post office. “Why didn’t she choose some place more protected from the wind?” I thought, and assumed she was so crazy she did not have the sense to huddle in a doorway.

I pulled my shiny car to the roadside, rolled down the window and said, “Mother...would you...” and was shocked at the word “Mother”.

I said, again, “Mother, I’ve brought you some food. Would you like some turkey and stuffing and apple pie?”

At this the old woman looked at me and said quite clearly and distinctly, her two loose lower teeth wobbling as she spoke, “Oh, thank you very much, but I’m quite full now. Why don’t you take it to someone who really needs it?” Her words were clear, her manners gracious. Then I was dismissed: Her head sank into her rags again.

【日積月累】

◇urine n. 小便，尿

◇seep v. 滲出，漏，滲流

◇unhinged adj. 精神錯亂的

◇woolly adj. 模糊的

【參考譯文】

流浪的老太太

她以前睡在第五街道的郵政局里面。在走過她睡覺那地方的出口之前，我就能聞出立在公共電話旁邊的她。我能聞到從她臟兮兮的衣服里滲透出的尿騷味，還有她那牙齒脫落的嘴里發出的腐臭氣。如果她不在睡覺，嘴里就會說著什么.

現在郵政局6點關門,把這些無家可歸的人趕了出去，所以她就在路旁蜷縮成一團，自言自語。她的嘴巴好像神志不清般地敞開著。微風吹散了她的氣味。

有一年的感恩節，我們剩下了很多食物，我打了包，向大伙說了一聲便開車向第五街道駛去。

那天晚上天很冷，樹葉在街道上打著轉，幾乎沒什么人出門。那些可憐的人大多數都找到了溫暖的落腳地或避難所，但是我知道我能找到她。

她穿得就像平常一樣，即使在夏天她也是一樣的裝束。暖和的羊毛外套包裹著她衰老佝僂的身軀。她瘦骨錚錚的手緊緊攥著那輛珍貴的購物車。在郵政局旁邊的操場前，她蹲在柵欄前面。“為什么她不選擇個更避風的地方呢？”我想。我覺得她肯定瘋了，她竟然沒想到要躲進哪個地方。

我把我锃亮的車停在路邊，搖下車窗說：“大娘你可以——”。我被自己說出的“大娘”這個詞嚇到了。

我接著說：“大娘，我給你帶來些吃的。你喜歡火雞和蘋果派嗎？”

聽到這話，老大娘看著我清楚地說，一邊說她那下排稀疏的牙齒一邊搖動：“噢，太謝謝你啦。不過我現在吃得很飽。你何不把它給其他需要的人？”她的話字字清晰，舉止得體。接著我就離開了。她又把頭埋進了自己襤褸的衣服里。

【人生啟迪】

世界上不乏有故事中主人公這樣樂于助人的人，但是在做好事的時候，我們有時也要注意自己的行為舉止，因為助人為樂與施舍的界限有時很難區分。