为你读英语美文·第542期 圣诞特辑 | 最后一颗装饰球·严喆
主播：严喆
录制地点：德国
The Last Ornament
《最后一颗装饰球》
In the quiet town of Evergreen Hollow, where snow fell like whispered blessings and streetlights glowed like candle flames through frosted windows, there lived an elderly woman named Miriam.
在常青谷这个静谧小镇上，雪花如低语的祝福飘落，街灯透过结霜的窗棂，如烛火般微弱地闪烁。一位名叫米里亚姆的老妇人居住于此。
Miriam had lived in the same little cottage at the edge of the woods for over fifty years. Her children had grown, moved away, and built lives of their own. Her husband, Robert, had passed three winters ago—just after they’d hung their last Christmas tree together. Since then, Miriam hadn’t put up a tree. She couldn’t bear the silence it would leave behind.
五十余年来，米里亚姆始终住在森林边缘那间小木屋里。她的孩子们早已长大成人，离家远去，各自筑起了新生活。丈夫罗伯特三年前的冬天离世——就在他们最后一次共同装饰圣诞树后不久。自那以后，米里亚姆再未摆放圣诞树。她无法承受它离去后留下的寂静。
Each December, she’d watch from her window as neighbors strung lights, baked gingerbread, and welcomed carolers. But her own home stayed still—lights off, decorations packed away in the attic, untouched.
每年十二月，她总在窗边看着邻居们挂起彩灯、烤制姜饼、迎接唱颂歌的人们。但她自己的家始终静止——灯不亮，装饰品封存在阁楼，无人触碰。
This year, though, something changed.
然而今年，情况发生了变化。
One snowy afternoon, a soft knock came at her door. Standing there was eight-year-old Leo from down the lane, cheeks pink from the cold, holding a small cardboard box.
某个飘雪的午后，门外传来轻柔的叩击。巷口八岁的利奥站在那里，冻得双颊泛红，手里捧着个小纸盒。
“Mrs. Miriam?” he said shyly. “My mom said you might not be decorating this year… so I brought you something.”
“米里亚姆太太？”他怯生生地开口，“我妈妈说您今年可能不装饰了...所以我带了点东西来。”
Miriam smiled gently and welcomed him in. From the box, Leo pulled out a single ornament—a hand-painted wooden star, slightly lopsided, with gold glitter that had already started flaking off.
米里亚姆温柔地微笑着请他进屋。里奥从盒子里取出唯一的装饰品——一颗手工彩绘的木质星星，略显歪斜，金色的亮粉已开始剥落。
“I made it in school,” he said. “It’s not fancy, but… it’s supposed to bring good cheer. And I thought… maybe you’d like to have it.”
“这是我在学校做的，”他说，“虽然不精致，但...它能带来欢乐。我想...您或许会喜欢。”
Miriam’s eyes filled with tears. She reached out and took the star, her fingers tracing its rough edges. “It’s beautiful, Leo. Truly.”
米莉安眼眶泛起泪光。她伸手接过星星，指尖轻抚着粗糙的棱角。“真美，里奥。真的。”
After he left, she stood for a long time holding that little star. And then—quietly, almost without meaning to—she walked to the attic and brought down a small, slender pine sapling someone had given her years ago. She placed it in a pot by the window, right where Robert used to stand to test the lights.
他离开后，她久久伫立着凝视那颗小星星。随后——悄然无声，近乎不自觉地——她走向阁楼，取下一株纤细的松树苗，那是多年前别人赠予她的。她将树苗栽进窗边的盆中，正是罗伯特当年测试灯饰的位置。
One by one, she opened the old boxes of ornaments. Each one held a memory: the angel Robert carved on their first Christmas together, the snowman their daughter made in kindergarten, the bell from their honeymoon in Vienna.
她逐一打开陈旧的装饰盒。每个盒子都承载着记忆：初次共度圣诞时罗伯特雕刻的天使，女儿幼儿园制作的雪人，维也纳蜜月带回的铃铛。
She hung them slowly, lovingly—until the tree shimmered with decades of joy and loss, laughter and longing. And at the very top, she placed Leo’s star.
她缓缓挂起每件装饰，满怀爱意——直到整棵树闪耀着数十载的欢欣与失落，欢笑与思念。最顶端，她安置了里奥的星星。
That night, as moonlight spilled over the snow and carolers passed by singing “Silent Night,” Miriam turned on the tree lights for the first time in three years.
那夜，月光倾泻在积雪上，唱诗班路过唱着《平安夜》，米里亚姆三年来首次点亮了圣诞树的灯饰。
And in that soft golden glow, she didn’t feel alone.
在这柔和的金色光芒里，她不再感到孤单。
Because love doesn’t vanish—it changes shape. Sometimes it comes back as a child’s handmade star… or a knock on the door… or the courage to light a tree again.
因为爱永不消逝——它只是改变了形态。有时它化作孩子亲手制作的星星……或是门外的轻叩……或是重燃圣诞树灯的勇气。
And that, dear friends, is the quiet miracle of Christmas.
亲爱的朋友们，这便是圣诞节最静谧的奇迹。
后期制作：永清
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