Helga bought the guitar at a second-hand market for thirty dollars. The varnish was scratched, and one tuning peg was loose, but the sound was warm and deep. That night, she was turning it over to look at the label when something rattled inside the body.
赫尔加在一个二手市场上花三十美元买了这把吉他。漆面有划痕，一个弦钮松了，但音色温暖而深沉。那天晚上，她正把吉他翻过来看标签，琴身里面有什么东西哗啦响了一下。
She looked through the sound hole and saw a small piece of paper. It was folded many times. She tilted the guitar and shook it gently until the paper slid out onto the table. Then she sat down, and carefully opened it.
她透过音孔往里看，看到一小张纸。它被折了很多次。她把吉他倾斜过来轻轻地晃，直到那张纸滑出来落在桌上。然后她坐下来，小心地把它展开。
It was a letter, written in blue ink, with the date from fifteen years earlier. "Dear Ms. Selma," it began. "Thank you for lending me this guitar for two whole years. Thank you for teaching me even when I could not pay. I am moving to another city for work. I was too shy to say this to your face. I am hiding it where you will find it."
那是一封信，用蓝墨水写的，日期是十五年前。“亲爱的塞尔玛女士，”信的开头写道，“谢谢您把这把吉他整整借给我两年。谢谢您即使我付不起学费，也一直教我。我要去另一座城市工作了。这些话我太害羞，没法当面对您说。我把它藏在您会找到的地方。”
Helga read it twice. Someone had waited a long time for these words to be read, and they had never arrived. The teacher had probably sold the guitar without ever looking inside it.
赫尔加读了两遍。有人等了很久，才等到这些话被读到，可它们却一直没有送达。那位老师多半是在从没往里面看过一眼的情况下，就把吉他卖掉了。
The next morning, she went back to the market and found the seller's stall empty. But on the case, she found a sticker from a small music shop near the station. She took the guitar and the letter there during her lunch break.
第二天早上，她回到市场，发现那个卖家的摊位空了。但是在琴盒上，她发现了车站附近一家小乐器行的贴纸。午休时，她带着吉他和那封信去了那里。
The owner was a man with gray hair and a pencil behind his ear. He laughed when she told him the story. "Selma? Of course I know her," he said. "She taught half the neighborhood. She sold me four guitars when she stopped giving lessons. She still comes in every Friday to buy strings."
店主是个头发花白的男人，耳朵后面夹着一支铅笔。她讲完经过，他笑了起来。“塞尔玛？我当然认识她，”他说，“她教过半个街区的人。她不再上课的时候，卖给了我四把吉他。她现在每个星期五还来这儿买琴弦。”
"Today is Friday," Helga said.
“今天是星期五。”赫尔加说。
"Then you should stay for a coffee."
“那你应该留下来喝杯咖啡。”
At four o'clock, a small woman with white hair walked into the shop. Helga stood up and held out the letter. "I think this belongs to you," she said. "It was inside one of your old guitars."
四点钟，一位头发雪白的瘦小女士走进了店里。赫尔加站起来，递出那封信。“我想这是您的，”她说，“它在您的一把旧吉他里面。”
Selma took the paper and read it slowly. Her hand began to shake a little. When she finished, she laughed, and then she had to take off her glasses. "I lent that guitar to a boy who could hardly look at me," she said. "I always wondered if he knew how well he played. And all this time, he had told me, right here."
塞尔玛接过那张纸，慢慢地读着。她的手开始微微发抖。读完后，她笑了，然后不得不摘下眼镜。“我把那把吉他借给了一个几乎不敢看我的男孩，”她说，“我一直在想，他知不知道自己弹得有多好。而这么多年，他其实一直就在这里告诉我。”
She put the letter in her pocket. Then she picked up the guitar and fixed the loose peg with two quick turns. She handed it back to Helga. "Now," she said, "would you like a lesson?"
她把信放进口袋。然后她拿起吉他，用两下快速的拧动修好了松掉的弦钮。她把吉他递还给赫尔加。“现在，”她说，“你想上一节课吗？”
