Give-away shoes and days of splendor gen.

[katrin1982]

Коллеги, помогите перевести заголовок, особенно его первую часть. Сама глава не раскрывает смысл фразы 'give-away shoes'. Спасибо!

[trtrtr]

Туфли в подарок.
Нужен контекст.

[Анна Ф]

Значит, весь текст (произведение? сайт?) раскрывает. Смысл в чем?

[Erdferkel]

вроде не столько в подарок, сколько бесплатная раздача как рекламная акция?
http://hrdailyadvisor.blr.com/2013/09/20/is-giving-shoes-away-a-great-business-strategy/

[Анна Ф]

промо-туфли

[Анна Ф]

не раздача, а розыгрыш, скорее

"Выиграй туфли! (обувь) Или дни великолепия (великолепные дни)"

[trtrtr]

Erdferkel, не всегда. Иногда как благотворительность. Иногда - вот так, как TOMS:
http://www.businessinsider.com/toms-blake-mycoskie-talks-growing-a-business-while-balancing-profit-with-purpose-2016-6
Поэтому - контекст в студию.

[trtrtr]

А, у вас тоже про TOMS... Была про них как-то интересная передача на CNBC.

[Erdferkel]

получается приятное с полезным :-)

[katrin1982]

Thirteen

Give-away Shoes

and Days of Splendor

Millions of questions about my new life

raced through my mind.

I never imagined myself back on the same train tracks, crossing the

same border of Yugoslavia that I had traversed nearly five years

earlier. The giant Austrian mountains still looked as massive as they

did then, and the border guards carrying their rifles still intimidated

me.

Even though I had official papers granting permission for me

to travel and work in Germany, millions of questions about my new

life raced through my mind. Would I make any friends? Would I be

able to learn a foreign language and survive at college?

Looking out the window, the Austrian countryside was

covered with a pure-white blanket of snow. The villages, with

church steeples rising high into the sky, were like paintings I

imagined from a fairytale. Everything seemed so idyllic, almost

surreal. I began to think about my past. What healing the last five

years had brought to my soul! Only God’s generous kindness and

the distance of time had enabled me to have the courage to retrace

these steps. I was so glad to no longer be stuck in a prison of shame

and unforgiveness.

How foolish I was when I took things into my own hands

during that first escape. If I had just waited for God’s timing, I

would have avoided much pain for myself and others. But thank You,

God, for loving me anyway, I prayed. You’re such a gracious God

and loving Father. I know You could have prevented what happened

five years ago; I also know it was not your perfect plan for me. I

85

took a detour in life, thinking I knew better. Still, it does not mean

that You can’t use what happened for good.

I thought of a verse in the Bible which says, “Oh, LORD, you

are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the

work of your hand.”11 During the last few years I had been on the

potter’s wheel. The shaping process was extremely painful, but the

pain was purposeful. I could already see that the pain of the

reshaping was worth it all.

{dingbat}

From the first moment I stepped off the train, the bustle of the big

city of Frankfurt, Germany, energized me. Unlike the quaint villages

in the Austrian Alps and my simple dusty-road village in Yugoslavia,

Frankfurt was an expansive metropolis with tall buildings and a

flurry of activity. Being there was like a dream; I finally encountered

the big West. It was a “real” world—a grown-up world...a world I

had only heard and dreamed about.

Olga had arranged for two people to meet me at the train

station in order to take me to my new “home”—a hotel where I

would work as a maid in exchange for room and board. My wage

would also help pay for school. I had sent a photo of myself and told

them what train I would be arriving on.

I remember how the train was “swallowed” by the huge train

station in Frankfurt. When I stepped out of the train with my one

suitcase, I immediately saw a lady and a man smiling at me. So I

met their eyes and walked toward them. They said something I did

not understand, but I assumed it was “Welcome.” I just smiled back.

The young man politely took my suitcase. As we walked through

this large international train station, I heard many different

languages. I was also surprised to see so many dark-haired, dark-
eyed people. Weren’t all Germans blond-haired and blue-eyed?

The young man led us to a Volkswagen Beetle. After the

86

11 Isaiah 64:8

three of us shoved into his little two-door car, he started up the

motor. We twisted and turned our way through the streets of

Frankfurt on our way to the hotel. By the daring way in which our

driver took the turns, I wondered briefly whether he was showing

off. Every new sight delighted me. Belgrade is a beautiful city, I

thought, but this city has so many more tall buildings, banks, and

hotels. There must be many rich people living here.

“Willkommen,” the lady behind the reception desk said as I

stepped through the main hotel door into a small lobby beautifully

decorated with fresh flowers. Everything looked so clean and

lovely!

I was to start work the next day, so the manager sent an

Italian lady to pick me up and give me instructions. She took me to

one of the floors and showed me how to clean a room. Trying very

hard to understand her instructions, I paid close attention to her

gestures. Over time the cleaning of rooms, floors, and windows

became routine. Although the days were long, I was grateful for the

opportunity to work.

In the evenings, my goal was to study German, but I was so

exhausted that, far too often, I fell asleep. During the day I worked

with a maid from Italy who did not speak much more German than

I, and what she did say was not correct grammar. So my learning of

the German language was both slow-going and mediocre. I found

little victories thrilling, such as buying bread and cheese at the

market, or asking for directions and understanding the responses.

But most days I felt clumsy and was humbled as I tried to interact

with others in this new world.

Then my pastor wrote to tell me there was a question

whether or not I would be accepted at the school. In light of my past

and my being a woman, some church leaders in Yugoslavia had

expressed doubts about me being qualified. These male pastors

feared that I would inspire other women to follow in my footsteps.

“We can’t have them all going off to seminary” they had told the

president.

Disheartened by such news, I fell onto my knees and cried

87

out to God, reminding Him of his promise in the Bible: “For I know

the plans I have for you declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and

not to harm you, plans to give you hope and future.’”12

“Where is your good plan, God?” I asked.

There were times when I was tempted to listen to the lies:

You’re not good enough. Your past has disqualified you. Women are

supposed to be quiet. But I could not forget how God had chosen

Deborah, Esther, Lydia, and missionaries like Olga to do great things

for Him. Surely, if He could use them, He could use me. It seemed

to me that God was far less concerned about the issue of women at

college than our obedience. He had miraculously paved the way for

me to be in Germany, and I was convinced He would make a way.

During this difficult waiting time, I sometimes gave in to

discouragement. I should just forget about college, I thought. It will

be too difficult anyway.

One evening, while thinking these unhappy thoughts, I knelt

beside my bed and told God, “I will not get up from my knees until I

hear from you. What is the right thing to do?” I did not want my

feelings to guide me, but His perfect will.

Finally, after midnight, I heard God’s whisper in my heart:

“One day, when you stand before Me, you will not be accountable

for what people say about you and want you to do. But you will be

accountable for what I ask you to do.”

I knew I had to pursue college.

Finally, the day came when the school president said to me,

“Welcome to the school!” I was very excited and relieved to hear the

news.

Waiting on God had been worth it—it always is—for the

timing was indeed right.

{dingbat}

On the first day at college, I moved into a room in the dorm that I

88

12 Jeremiah 29:11

would share with two female students from Germany—Ursula and

Inge. We became fast friends. They took me under their wings,

helping me to learn German. Under their tutelage, I progressed

much faster. I was so grateful to have patient people I could count

on.

The morning was filled with classes, with occasional lessons

in the afternoons. I had to study more than the others because of the

wide language gap. Somehow, through a lot of hard work and help

from friends and gracious teachers, I passed the exams.

I was so happy to be back at school, even though it was

difficult for me, especially the language.

Two of my teachers at the school were Paul and Gladys

Williscroft. They had been missionaries in Poland before WW II.

After the war they had moved to Germany to help at the school.

Still, their heartbeat was for Eastern European countries. They were

the greatest children’s workers I had ever known. They took me

under their wings and, through their sensitive nature, they saw the

many unspoken questions of my heart. Often I went with them to

church where Gladys was teaching children and was amazed how

she communicated the message so simply that the children could

understand.

We spent many hours talking about life and hope—and the

future and God.

Nine months later, all of my first-year classes and exams

were behind me. I couldn’t believe I had made it! Though formal

classes had stopped for the summer, we students were expected to

put head knowledge into practice by participating in a summer

ministry internship. Every girl found a place to intern—except me.

What next, God? my soul cried out.

[интровверт]

вот это да! первый так вижу что на форуме для заголовка дали (почти) полный контекст .. читай - не хочу!