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The first evening passed well enough. The mother unpacked the presents—a chicken, bread, eggs, a tapestry of a church spire which she'd done all winter, stitching at it until she was almost blind, a holy water font, ashtrays made from shells, and lamps converted from bottles.
第一个晚上过得还不错。母亲从箱子里取出了礼物——一只鸡、面包、鸡蛋、一幅绣着教堂尖顶的挂毯，那是她一针针缝的，整整花了一个冬天，缝到眼睛几乎什么也看不见了才完成。礼物中还有一个圣水盂、用贝壳制作的烟灰缸和玻璃瓶改装的台灯。
Claire laid them along the mantelshelf, and stood back, not so much to admire them as to see how incongruous they looked.
克莱尔把礼品一一摆在壁炉台上，往后退了几步，不过与其说是在欣赏，倒不如说是在看看这些玩意儿摆在那儿是多么不协调。
"Thank you," she said to her mother, as tenderly as she might have when she was a child. These gifts touched her, especially the tapestry, although it was ugly. She thought of the winter nights and the Aladdin lamp smoking, and her mother hunched over her work, not even using a thimble to ease the needle through, because she believed in sacrifice. She could picture her and her father at the fire night after night, the turf flames green and fitful, the hens locked up, foxes prowling around in the wind, outside.
“谢谢，”她对母亲说，尽量像她小时候那样温情。这些礼物打动了她，尤其是那幅挂毯，尽管它很难看。她能想象到那一个个冬夜的情景，在旧式油灯的烟雾中，她母亲弯着腰，缝制那幅挂毯，连能帮她将针穿过布料的顶针都不戴，因为她信仰牺牲精神。她能想象她母亲和父亲每天晚上坐在炉火边的情形，泥炭燃烧时的绿色火苗时断时续，母鸡锁在鸡笼里， 屋外狐狸在风中四处觅食。
