The Work You Do, the Person You Are
你做的是工作，你是一个人

All I had to do for the two dollars was clean Her house for a few hours after school. It was a beautiful house, too, with a plastic-covered sofa and chairs, wall-to-wall blue-and-white carpeting, a white enamel stove, a washing machine and a dryer — things that were common in Her neighborhood, absent in mine. In the middle of the war, she had butter, sugar, steaks, and seam-up-the-back stockings.
为了这两块钱，我所要做的就是在放学后打扫她的房子几个小时。这是一所漂亮的房子，有一张塑料覆盖的沙发和椅子，蓝白相间的地毯，一个白色搪瓷炉，一台洗衣机和一台烘干机——她的社区很常见，但在我的社区却没有。在战争中期，她有黄油、糖、牛排和缝制的袜子。

I knew how to scrub floors on my knees and how to wash clothes in our zinc tub, but I had never seen a Hoover vacuum cleaner or an iron that wasn't heated by fire.
我知道如何跪着擦洗地板，知道如何在锌制盆里洗衣服，但我从来没有见过胡佛吸尘器或不用火加热的熨斗。

Part of my pride in working for Her was earning money I could squander: on movies, candy, paddleballs, jacks, ice-cream cones. But a larger part of my pride was based on the fact that I gave half my wages to my mother, which meant that some of my earnings were used for real things — an insurance-policy payment or what was owed to the milkman or the iceman, The pleasure of being necessary to my parents was profound. I was not like the children in folktales; burdensome mouths to feed，nuisances to be corrected , problems so severe that they were abandoned to the forest. I had a status that doing routine chores in my house did not provide —and it earned me a slow smile, an approving nod from an adult, Confirmations that I was adultlike, not childlike.
我为她工作的部分自豪来自于赚了我可以挥霍的钱：电影、糖果、桨球、夹克衫、冰淇淋筒。但我的自豪更大一部分是基于这样一个事实：我把一半的工资给了我的母亲，这意味着我的一些收入用在了实处——保险单付款或欠钱送牛奶的人或卖冰的人。作为父母的必需品，我的快乐是深刻的。我不像民间故事中的孩子；嗷嗷待哺，需要喂养，不合适的行为需要纠正，问题严重到他们被遗弃在森林里。我有了一种在家里做日常家务所不能得到的地位，这让我慢慢地有了微笑，一个成年人赞许地点头，确认我像个成年人，不是小孩子。

In those days, the forties, children were not just loved or liked; they were needed. They could earn money; they could care for children younger than themselves；they could work he farm, take care of the herd, run errands, and much more. I suspect that children aren’t needed in that way now. They are loved, doted on, protected, and helped. Fine, and yet.
在那些日子，在四十多岁人的眼里，孩子们不仅仅是被爱或被喜欢；他们是需要的。他们可以赚钱；他们可以照顾比自己小的孩子他们可以在农场工作，照顾牛群，跑腿等等。我怀疑现在不需要孩子了。他们受到爱、宠爱、保护和帮助。很好，但是。

Little by little, I got better at cleaning Her house — good enough to be given more to do, much more. I was ordered to carry bookcases upstairs and, once, to move a piano from one side of a room to the other, I fell carrying the bookcases. And after pushing the piano my arms and legs hurt so badly. I wanted to refuse; or at least to complain, but I was afraid she would fire me, and I would lose the freedom the dollar gave me, as well as the standing I had at home — although both were slowly being eroded. She began to offer me her clothes, for a price. Impressed by these worn things, which looked simply gorgeous to a little girl who had only two dresses to wear to school, I bought a few. Until my mother asked me if I really wanted to work for castoffs. So I learned to say “No, thank you” to a faded sweater offered for a quarter of a week's pay.
一点一点地，我在打扫她的房子方面做得更好了——足够好了，可以做得更多，更多。有一次我被要求把书柜搬上楼，当我把钢琴从房间的一侧移到另一侧时，我背着书柜摔倒了。推钢琴后，我的胳膊和腿疼得厉害。我想拒绝；或者至少是抱怨，但我担心她会解雇我，我会失去美元给我的自由，以及我在家里的地位——尽管两者都在慢慢被侵蚀。她开始把她的衣服以一定的价格卖给我。这些破旧的东西给我留下了深刻的印象，对于一个只有两件衣服上学的小女孩来说，它们看起来简直太漂亮了，我买了几件。直到我妈妈问我是否真的想为那些被遗弃的物品工作。所以我学会了对一件褪色的毛衣说“不，谢谢”，这件毛衣的薪水是一周工资的四分之一。

Still, I had trouble summoning the courage to discuss or object to the increasing demands she made. And I knew that if I told my mother how unhappy I was she would tell me to quit. Then one day, alone in the kitchen with my father, I let drop a few whines about the job. I gave him details, examples of what troubled me, yet although he listened intently, I saw no sympathy in his eyes. No “Oh, you poor little thing.” Perhaps he understood that what I wanted was a solution to the job, not an escape from it, In any case, he put down his cup of coffee and said, "Listen. You don't live there. You live here. With your people. Go to work. Get your money. And come on home.”
尽管如此，我还是很难鼓起勇气讨论或反对她提出的越来越多的要求。我知道如果我告诉我妈妈我有多不开心，她会告诉我戒烟。然后有一天，我和父亲独自一人在厨房里，对这份工作发了几声牢骚。我给了他一些细节，一些困扰我的例子，尽管他聚精会神地听着，但我从他的眼神中看不到任何同情。不，“哦，你这个可怜的小家伙。”也许他明白我想要的是这份工作的解决方案，而不是逃避。无论如何，他放下咖啡说：“听着。你不住在那里。你住在这里。和你的人在一起。去上班。拿钱。回家吧。”

That was what he said. This was what I heard.
他就是这么说的。这就是我听到的。

Whatever the work is, do it well — not for the boss but for yourself.
无论工作是什么，都要做好——不是为了老板，而是为了你自己。

You make the job; it doesn't make you.
你能胜任这份工作；这不适合你。

Your real life is with us, your family.
你的真实生活与我们同在，与你的家人同在。

You are not the work you do; you are the person you are.
你不是你所做的工作；你就是你自己。

I have worked for all sorts of people since then, geniuses and morons, quick-witted and dull, bighearted and narrow. I've had many kinds of jobs, but since that conversation with my father I have never considered the level of labor to be the measure of myself, and I have never placed the security of a job above the value of home.
从那时起，我为各种各样的人工作，天才和白痴，机智和迟钝，心胸开阔和狭隘。我做过很多种工作，但自从与父亲交谈以来，我从未将劳动水平视为衡量自己的标准，也从未将工作的安全性置于家庭价值之上。