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The White Envelope 白色的信封
◎ Nancy W. Gavin
It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no
identification, no inscription1. It has peeked2 through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or
so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas—oh, not the true meaning of Christmas,
but the commercial aspects of it—overspending... the frantic3 running around at the last minute to get
you couldn’t think of anything else.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended;
and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-
city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged7 that shoestrings8 seemed to be the only
thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold
uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a
kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously
could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of
their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado9, a kind of street
pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won.” he
said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”
Mike loved kids—all kids—and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball
and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting
goods store and bought an assortment10 of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent the anonymously11 to
the inner-city church.
On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had
done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year
and in succeeding years.
For each Christmas, I followed the tradition—one year sending a group of mentally handicapped
youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had
burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on
Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide- eyed
anticipation12 as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.
As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost
its allure13. The story doesn’t end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded14 cancer. When
Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas
Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.
Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their
around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike’s
spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.
May we all remember the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and
always. God bless—pass this along to your friends and loved ones.
这封小小的白色信封在我家的圣诞树上已经有十多年了。信封上没有姓名，没有地址，
也没有留言。
一切是因为我丈夫迈克不喜欢圣诞节——哦，并不是真正意义上的圣诞节，而是被商业
化的圣诞节——超支了……为了给哈利叔叔买领带，给奶奶买除尘粉，他在圣诞节来临之际
疯狂地跑这跑那——只能送这些礼物，因为根本也想不出别的东西。
正是因为我知道他的感受，于是有一年，我决定打破常规（平时都送些衬衫、毛衣或领
带之类的东西）。我的灵感突现，想为迈克准备一个特殊的礼物。
那年，我的儿子凯文12岁，正在学校里练习初级摔跤。就在圣诞节前不久，他们要举行
一项非职业性的比赛，由市里一家教堂赞助费用。那些年轻人穿的运动鞋破旧不堪，好像脚
上就只剩下鞋带了。我们这边的孩子与他们形成了鲜明的对比——一律身着金蓝色的制服和
崭新的摔跤鞋。
比赛开始后，我惊异地发现对方选手没有戴专业头盔，那种保护摔跤选手耳朵的轻型护
头。那种头盔对他们这样的队伍来说太奢侈了，明显负担不起。因此，最终我们队给了他们
猛烈的打击，并且也赢得了所有重量级的比赛。当那些男孩从垫子上站起来时，还故意穿着
破旧的衣服，虚张声势地走来走去，带着一种不承认失败的街头傲慢。
迈克坐在我旁边，悲哀地摇摇头，“我真希望他们中有人能赢过我们，他们很有潜力，但
输得这么惨，可能会使他们失去信心。”
迈克之所以会有这样的想法，是因为他喜欢小孩——所有的小孩他都喜欢——他了解他
们，他曾经担任过一些小团队的教练，像足球队、垒球队和长曲棍球队。一天下午，我去本
地的一家体育用品店买了一套摔跤专用的护头和鞋子，并匿名把东西送给市里的教会。
在圣诞节前夜，我把一个信封挂在了圣诞树上，里面写的是我所做的事，这是我送给迈
克的礼物。在那年的圣诞节里，他的笑容比以往多少年来都要灿烂。
每年圣诞节，我都遵循这样一个传统——有一年是让一些残障儿童参加冰球比赛，有一
年是看望了两位老年兄弟，他们的房屋在圣诞节前一星期被大火烧为平地，等等。
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