问题描述：
能分别简单说说这两篇故事的内容和主旨么？中文各200字左右为宜，我们英语作业是读这两篇的英文写读后感，麻烦各位了。英文更好！！！
问题解答：
《麦琪的礼物》讲述的是一个圣诞节里发生在社会下层的小家庭中的故事。
男主人公吉姆是一位薪金仅够维持生活的小职员，女主人公德拉是一位贤惠善良的主妇。
他们的生活贫穷，但吉姆和德拉各自拥有一样极珍贵的宝物。吉姆有祖传的一块金表，德拉有一头美丽的瀑布般的秀发。
为了能在圣诞节送给对方一件礼物，吉姆卖掉了他的金表为德拉买了一套“纯玳瑁做的，边上镶着珠宝”的梳子；德拉卖掉了自己的长发为吉姆买了一条白金表链。
他们都为对方舍弃了自己最宝贵的东西，而换来的礼物却因此变得毫无作用了。
吉姆和德拉，即使只是生活在社会底层的小人物，却拥有着对生活的热情和对对方的深爱，在这些温暖的感情面前，贫困可以变得微不足道。在圣诞节前夕，两个人还想着要为对方买一件礼物互赠。
故事里出现的有些夸张的偶然，让两位生活在困窘中的主人公显得有些捉襟见肘，而通过这个带着些悲剧情调的故事，我们从一个角度感受到欧亨利为我们传达的从苍凉中透出的温暖——关于“礼物”的价值。
《麦琪的礼物》读后感
用自己美丽的心灵赠给对方的是一件无价之宝。而这件无价之宝，确实世间任何自认聪明或富有的人永远不会，也不能给予的礼物。
圣诞节是西方国家最重要的节日之一。每年的12月25日，人们都会在欢乐的气氛中互赠礼物以表祝福。那些各种各样的礼物把寒冷的平安夜变成温暖的天堂。但是，怎样的礼物才是最珍贵的呢？美国短篇小说家欧·亨利为我们描述了一个普通却内意深刻的故事——《麦琪的礼物》。耶酥诞生之日，三位麦琪赠送给他三样礼物，那些礼物预示着耶酥的一生。而欧·亨利《麦琪的礼物》中所讲述的故事，是一个圣诞节里发生在社会下层的小家庭中荒唐却感人的故事。男主人公吉姆是一位薪金仅够维持生活的小职员，女主人公德拉是一位贤惠善良的主妇。他们的生活贫穷，但吉姆和德拉各自拥有一样极珍贵的宝物——吉姆祖传的一块金表就算“地下室堆满金银财宝、所罗门王又是守门人的话，每当吉姆路过那儿，准会摸出金表，好让那所罗门王忌妒得吹胡子瞪眼睛”；德拉一头美丽的瀑布般的秀发则可以“使那巴示女王的珍珠宝贝黔然失色”。为了能在圣诞节送给对方一件礼物，吉姆卖掉了他的金表为德拉买了一套“纯玳瑁做的，边上镶着珠宝”的梳子；德拉卖掉了自己的长发为吉姆买了一条白金表链。他们都为对方舍弃了自己最宝贵的东西，而换来的礼物却因此变得毫无作用了。
也许有人会认为，吉姆和德拉都很“傻”，他们极不明智地为了对方而牺牲了他们最最宝贵的东西，欧亨利的小说似乎显得荒诞无意义。其实不然，故事里出现的有些夸张的偶然，让两位生活在困窘中的主人公显得有些捉襟见肘，而通过这个带着些悲剧情调的故事，我们从一个角度感受到欧亨利为我们传达的从苍凉中透出的温暖——关于“礼物”的价值。
吉姆和德拉，即使只是生活在社会底层的小人物，却拥有着对生活的热情和对对方的深爱，在这些温暖的感情面前，贫困可以变得微不足道。在圣诞节前夕，两个人还想着要为对方买一件礼物互赠，多么浪漫多么温馨。即使这一份礼物似乎失去了使用的价值，它们却成了世间最珍贵的礼物，变成一份真挚的爱赠给了对方。
麦琪是聪明人，聪明绝顶的人，由于他们是聪明人，毫无疑问，他们的礼物也是聪明的礼物。而我们的吉姆和德拉，虽然极不明智地为了对方而牺牲了他们最最宝贵的东西。不过，让我们对现今的聪明人说最后一句话，在一切馈赠礼品的人当中，那两个人是最聪明的。在一切馈赠又接收礼品的人当中，像他们两个这样的人也是最聪明的。无论在任何地方，他们都是最聪明的人。他们用自己美丽的心灵赠给对方的是一件无价之宝。而这件无价之宝，确实世间任何自认聪明或富有的人永远不会，也不能给予的礼物。圣诞节又快来临了，亲爱的朋友们，你们是否已经想好。
《麦琪的礼物》英文版
THE GIFT OF THE MAGI
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "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! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
用英文写嘛，麦琪的礼物讲一对夫妇，为了给对方买礼物，最后发生交叉的结局
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