CLASSI SECONDE
Evans, Richard Paul. The Christmas Candle. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1998.
On a snowy
Christmas Eve a young man made his way along a dark, deserted cobblestone
street. His name was Thomas, and he was wrapped in a woolen cloak, a knapsack
flung across his back.( uno zaino sulla schiena) In
his hand hung a tin candle lantern. Behind the lantern’s glass panes sat the
remains of a spent candle1. (Bova-Biondi)
When
he saw the glow ( bagliore) of the candlelight
through the shop window of the chandler, the village candle maker, he hurried
his steps, turning onto the snow-covered pathway. In Thomas’s way stood a
beggar ( mendicante), shaking his cup for coins.
Thomas pushed him aside impatiently and opened the door to the shop.2 ( Buonanova – Amoruso)
Inside
the shop, metal pots filled with tallow and beeswax hung from a stone hearth.( appese ad un focolare di pietra) The old chandler
stood with his sculptor’s tools in his hands, surrounded by the beautiful
creations he had made out of wax.
“I
am lucky to find you here,” Thomas said. “The town is empty.”3( Cecere – Boenzi)
The
old man gazed silently at Thomas as the young man glanced about the rows of
sculpted candles. There were sprites and fairies, angels with see-through
wings, and fragile princesses in gowns as delicate as lace( pizzo, merletto). They smelled of myrrh and
frankincense and meadow flowers.4 (Davino – Caianiello)
“You
are a foolish old man,” Thomas said. “You spend hours making beautiful things
that devour themselves. How long before the flame melts an angel into an ugly
clump of wax?” He pointed to a row of simpler candles. “I only need light. I
will take one of those.”
The
chandler looked steadily at Thomas, “The Christmas candles are of no good to
you.”5 (De Cristofaro – Ceparano)
Thomas
was started by the stern ( dura, severa)
response, but he laughed. “It would do me good not to stumble (inciampare) in
the dark. Are you playing me, old man? I will not pay more for your candle than
it is worth.”
“It
is only four coppers ( monete)…but you may find
it costly( costoso).” The old man’s words were
strangely serious.
“I
have money! Give me the candle!” Thomas shouted. “It is late, and my family is
waiting for me. I need illumination to find my way.”6 (
Di Marino – Ciccarelli)
“Then
it is illumination you desire?” the chandler asked softly.
“That
is what I need,” Thomas replied.
The
candle maker nodded (annuì col capo) slowly. “So
you do.” He took a candle, dipped it over a flame (
l’abbassò sul fuoco), then placed it inside the lantern’s tin frame.7 (Di Fenza – Chianese)
Thomas
dropped some coins on the counter and walked to the door.
The
old man’s lips pursed ( si incresparono) in an
odd, amused smile. “Merry Christmas, my brother,” he said.
The
farewell surprised Thomas. “To you, as well,” he stammered.( balbettò) Then he hastily (frettolosamente)
stepped out into the darkness,
the lantern lighting the road ahead.8 (Esposito
Christian – Cuccurullo)
Thomas
had travelled only a short distance when a shadow emerged from an alleyway (vialetto). A robber, he thought fearfully. He
held out his lantern. “Who’s there?” he called. Then in the light of the
candle, he saw it was only a frail woman huddled (rannicchiata)
against the cold.
“Sir,”
cried the woman. “A pence, please?”9 (Ferraro – De
Rosa)
His
eyes narrowed in contempt at the beggar. Then, as he looked at her more
closely, he gasped. (ansimò). He knew the face well! It was his own mother!
“Mother!
What is this prank? Why do you greet me as a beggar!”
The
woman stared at him. “Just a ha’ pence, Sir?”
“Why
are you here? Where are my brothers? My sister?” Thomas asked.10 (Iannuzzi – Fioretto)
He
reached out to her, but she pulled away. “Mother, how peculiar you act. You
will catch a chill. Here, take my cloak.” He removed it and held it out to her.
Cautiously,
the woman came forward, then snatched the coat and retreated into the shadows.
But
as she moved from the lantern’s light, her appearance changed. 11 (Giordano Biagio – Feniello)
She was not his mother, but a beggar indeed!
With Thomas’s cloak in hand, she disappeared into the darkness.
“A
strange trick,” he said to himself. He wrapped his arms around his chest,
wishing he had kept his cloak. “It is I who will catch a chill.”
Thomas
walked on, quickening his pace against the frigid air. As he passed beneath the
awning of a darkened inn, the candle revealed another form, lying in the
gutter.12 (Grieco – Gargiulo)
He
held out the candle and again gasped. “Has the universe gone mad? Elin, my
brother! Are you sick?”
He
set the lantern down, and pulled his brother’s limp arm around his shoulder,
struggling to lift him. “Elin, I cannot carry you.”
He
pounded on the inn’s door, which was opened by a grim-faced woman.13 (Giordano Gabriel – Iorio)
“My
brother is sick and I fear he will freeze before I can come back for him. May I
bring him inside?”
“For
the price of a night,” she cackled. “A shilling.”
“A
shilling?” Thomas reached into his pocket. “I have only sixpence.”
The
old woman scowled and began to shut the door.
“Wait!
My knapsack is worth more than a shilling!” Thomas cried. “And the trousers
inside are newly tailored. I will give you everything.”14(
Napolano – La Montagna)
The
old innkeeper looked at the bundle, then reached out a fat hand.
Thomas
flung the knapsack from his back and handed it to her with the last of his
money. She opened the door. “Bring him in.”
Leaving
his lantern on the curb, Thomas dragged the man into the inn’s foyer. 15(Liccardo E. – Liccardo Francesca)
As he gently laid him on the wooden floor
he suddenly saw that the man’s face, like the beggar’s had changed.
“So
it is your brother who lay in my gutter?” croaked the woman.
Thomas
gaped at the man. “He…he is not my brother….”16(Palladino
– Pianese)
“You
are mad,” the woman muttered, and she shoved him out the door.
Outside,
Thomas picked up the lantern.
He
looked into its glass panes. “There is something strange about your light,” he
whispered.
Thomas
had just glimpsed the bright lights of home when he came across a little girl
shivering in the cold.17 (Puzone – Migliaccio)
“Have
you anything to eat, Sir?” she asked in a faint voice.
Thomas
felt a stir in his chest. The child was tiny, no bigger than his
sister….Suddenly he pulled the lantern away. He wouldn’t shine it in her face.
He could guess its trick. And what could he do for this poor waif? He had no
food or money left to give.18 (Sansone – Padrevita)
“I
have nothing,” Thomas murmured as he left her, willing himself not to turn
around.
Penniless
and cold, Thomas trudged onward, hardly glancing at the familiar houses of his
childhood.
His
own home was dressed for the season, and music and laughter came from inside.
As he entered the foyer, his mother greeted him with great excitement.19 (Schiattarella – Puglia)
“Thomas,”
she exclaimed, “you have arrived!” Hearing her cry, his sister and brothers
rushed into their room to welcome his arrival.
When
the joviality had begun to settle his mother looked at him peculiarly. “Thomas,
where is you cloak?”
“Yes,”
said his brother Elin, “and why have you no pack?”
Thomas
gazed solemnly into their bewildered faces. “I…gave everything away,” he said.
“To
whom?” his mother asked, puzzled.20(Esposito F. Vallefuoco
A.- )
Thomas
looked down at the waning Christmas candle. “The old man spoke the truth. You
are costly…” A smile of understanding slowly spread across his face. “…but of
great worth.”
“What
is this riddle? What old man?” his sister asked.
“A
wise man who sculpts candles,” Thomas replied as he gazed at the face of his
sister. 21 (Vallefuoco Vincenzo -
Just then, in his mind, her bright face
became the face of the woeful, hungry face of the poor child in the cold.
Thomas
looked at the sumptuous banquet laid out on the table. Suddenly he turned to
the door.
“Thomas,
where are you going?” his sister asked.
“I
must see about another member of our family,” he said.22
( Terrestre)
And
as he left the warm, fragrant house for the cold night, Thomas’s heart was warm
with joy. For that Christmas Eve, a lesson was learned and taken to heart: If
we will see things as they truly are, we will find that all, from great to
small, belong to one family. And this truth, known from the beginning of time,
is perhaps seen best in the joyous illumination of Christmas.23 (Questo pezzo è “ avanzato”, lo farà Vincenzo Vallefuoco (
se non gli dispiace!!!Please, Vincenzo! I’m sure you can do it!!!)
