The Gift of the Magi

Un dólar y ochenta y siete centavos. Eso era todo. And sixty of those centavos were in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time, by bargaining hard with the grocer, the vegetable seller, and the butcher, until her cheeks burned with shame. Della contó el dinero tres veces. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. Y el día siguiente era Navidad.

There was clearly nothing to do but drop onto el sofá — shabby and little — and cry. Así que Della lo hizo. Which proves that la vida is made of sobs, sniffles, and smiles — con más lágrimas que sonrisas.

While Della moves from tears to sniffles, take a look at la casa. Un apartamento amueblado, a ocho dólares por semana. No era exactamente pobreza, but it was very close.

In el vestíbulo below there was a mailbox too broken for letters. También había un timbre que nunca sonaba. And there was a card with el nombre "Mr. James Dillingham Young." The "Dillingham" came from better days, when its owner was paid thirty dólares a week. Ahora el sueldo era solo veinte. The letters of "Dillingham" se veían borrosas, as if they wanted to be a modest little D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came a casa and reached his apartamento, he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young — que ya conocen como Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry y se secó las mejillas. Se paró junto a la ventana. Outside, un gato gris walked along a grey fence in a grey backyard. Mañana era Navidad. She had only $1.87 to buy Jim un regalo. Ahorró cada centavo durante meses. And this was the result. Twenty dólares a week does not go far. Los gastos fueron más grandes de lo que pensaba. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy un regalo for Jim. Su Jim. She had spent many happy hours planning something nice for him. Algo fino, poco común y especial. Something almost fine enough to belong to Jim.

Entre las ventanas había un espejo largo y estrecho. Perhaps you have seen that kind of espejo in an eight-dólar apartamento. A very thin and very ágil person, watching her reflection in narrow strips, may get a fairly good idea of how she looks. Della era delgada y dominaba ese arte.

Suddenly she whirled from la ventana y se paró frente al espejo. Sus ojos brillaban. But her face lost its color in twenty segundos. Rápidamente se soltó el pelo and let it fall to its full length.

Los James Dillingham Young tenían dos posesiones that filled them both with pride. Una era el reloj de oro de Jim — his father's, and his grandfather's before that. La otra era el pelo de Della. If the Queen of Sheba had lived in the flat across from theirs, Della would have dried su pelo at la ventana just to make the Queen's jewels look cheap. If King Solomon had been the janitor, con todos sus tesoros en el sótano, Jim would have shown his watch every time he passed, just to see the king pull at his beard de envidia.

Así que Della se soltó su hermoso pelo. It fell about her, rippling and shining como una cascada de agua marrón. Le llegaba hasta debajo de la rodilla. It made itself almost a garment for her. Then she put it up again, nerviosa y rápida. Once she stopped for a minute and stood still, while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

Se puso su vieja chaqueta marrón. Se puso su viejo sombrero marrón. With a whirl of skirts, and with that brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, salió por la puerta y bajó las escaleras to the street.

Donde se detuvo, el letrero decía: "Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." Della subió corriendo y recuperó el aliento. Madame — large, too white, chilly — did not look much like a "Sofronie."

"¿Quiere comprar mi pelo?" preguntó Della.

"Yo compro pelo," dijo Madame. "Quítese el sombrero y déjeme verlo."

La cascada marrón cayó.

"Veinte dólares," dijo Madame, lifting the mass with a practiced hand.

"Démelo rápido," dijo Della.

Oh, and the next two hours flew by on rosy wings. Forget the mixed metaphor. Della recorría las tiendas buscando el regalo de Jim.

Lo encontró al fin. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. No había otro igual en ninguna tienda. And she had searched every store in town. It was una cadena of platino puro for his watch, simple and quiet in its diseño, showing its value by what it was made of, not by cheap decoración — as all good things should do. Era digna hasta de El Reloj. Cuando la vio, lo supo. It had to be Jim's. Era como él. Quietness and value — the description fit both. Le cobraron veintiún dólares. She hurried a casa with the 87 centavos. With that chain on his watch, Jim podía mirar la hora con orgullo in any company. The watch was grand, but he sometimes looked at it secretly, because of the old leather strap he used en lugar de una cadena.

Cuando Della llegó a casa, the excitement gave way, a little, a la prudencia y la razón. She took out her curling irons — sus tenazas — y encendió el gas. She went to work repairing the damage made by generosidad added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear amigos — an enorme task.

En cuarenta minutos her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls. Parecía un colegial travieso. She looked at her reflection in el espejo — mucho tiempo, con cuidado.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," se dijo a sí misma, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do — oh! ¿qué podía hacer con un dólar y ochenta y siete centavos?"

A las siete, el café estaba listo. The frying-pan was on the stove, hot and ready para cocinar las chuletas.

Jim nunca llegaba tarde. Della folded the watch chain in her hand y se sentó en la esquina de la mesa, near la puerta he always came in through. Entonces oyó sus pasos en la escalera. She turned white for un momento. She had a habit of saying little quiet prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Por favor, Dios — make him think I am still pretty."

La puerta se abrió y Jim entró. Se veía delgado y muy serio. Poor fellow — he was only twenty-two, and already carrying una familia! Necesitaba un abrigo nuevo. And he had no gloves.

Jim se detuvo junto a la puerta, as still as a hunting dog pointing at a bird. Sus ojos estaban fijos en Della. There was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. No era enfado, ni sorpresa. It was not disapproval, not horror, not any of the feelings she had prepared for. He simply stared at her, fixed, con esa expresión extraña en la cara.

Della bajó de la mesa y fue hacia él.

"Jim, mi amor," she cried, "no me mires así. I had mi pelo cut off and sold it, because I could not live through Christmas sin darte un regalo. Va a crecer otra vez — you won't mind, will you? Tenía que hacerlo. Mi pelo crece muy rápido. Say '¡Feliz Navidad!', Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice gift — qué regalo tan bonito — I have for you."

"¿Te cortaste el pelo?" asked Jim, slowly, as if he had not yet understood that plain fact.

"Lo corté y lo vendí," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? Soy yo sin mi pelo, ¿no?"

Jim miró la habitación con curiosidad.

"¿Dices que tu pelo ya no está?" he said, looking, almost, like un idiota.

"You don't need to look for it," said Della. "Está vendido, te digo — sold and gone. Es Nochebuena, boy. Sé bueno conmigo — I sold it for you. Maybe someone has counted every hair on my head," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count mi amor por ti. Shall I put las chuletas on, Jim?"

Jim pareció despertar de un sueño. Abrazó a su Della. For ten seconds, let us look with discreet atención at some unimportant object in the other direction. Eight dólares a week, or un millón a year — ¿cuál es la diferencia? A mathematician or a comedian would give you the wrong answer. Los Reyes Magos traían regalos valiosos, but that was not among them. This mysterious statement will be made clear later on.

Jim sacó un paquete del bolsillo de su abrigo and threw it onto la mesa.

"Don't make any mistake about me, Dell," he said. "There is no haircut — or shave, or shampoo — that could make me like mi chica any less. But if you open that paquete, vas a ver por qué me quedé así at first."

Dedos blancos y rápidos tore at the string and el papel. Y entonces, un grito de alegría; and then — oh, tragedy! — a quick change a lágrimas y llantos, and el señor de la casa had to use all his comforting powers.

Porque allí estaban Las Peinetas — the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped for so long in la ventana of a Broadway tienda. Peinetas hermosas — pure tortoiseshell, con joyas en los bordes — exactly the right color for the beautiful hair that was gone. Eran peinetas caras. She knew it. Her heart had longed for them, with no real hope of posesión. Y ahora eran suyas — but the hair they should have adorned ya no estaba.

Pero las abrazó contra su pecho. At last she was able to look up con ojos húmedos y una sonrisa and say: "¡Mi pelo crece tan rápido, Jim!"

Y entonces Della saltó como un gato pequeño and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful regalo. She held it out to him con emoción, upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash con el reflejo de su espíritu brillante.

"¿No es perfecta, Jim? Busqué por toda la ciudad. You'll have to look at the time cien veces al día now. Dame tu reloj. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim dropped onto el sofá. Puso las manos detrás de la cabeza y sonrió.