英語(yǔ)范文背誦精華1.4 My mother’s Gift

My Mother's Gift

I grew up in a small town where the elementary school was a ten-minute walk from my house and in an age , not so long ago , when children could go home for lunch and find their mothers waiting.

At the time, I did not consider this a luxury, although today it certainly would be. I took it for granted that mothers were the sandwich-makers, the finger-painting appreciators and the homework monitors. I never questioned that this ambitious, intelligent woman, who had had a career before I was born and would eventually return to a career, would spend almost every lunch hour throughout my elementary school years just with me.

I only knew that when the noon bell rang, I would race breathlessly home. My mother would be standing at the top of the stairs, smiling down at me with a look that suggested I was the only important thing she had on her mind. For this, I am forever grateful.

Some sounds bring it all back: the highpitched squeal of my mother's teakettle, the rumble of the washing machine in the basement and the jangle of my dog's license tags as she bounded down the stairs to greet me. Our time together seemed devoid of the gerrymandered schedules that now pervade my life.

One lunchtime when I was in the third grade will stay with me always. I had been picked to be the princess in the school play, and for weeks my mother had painstakingly rehearsed my lines with me. But no matter how easily I delivered them at home, as soon as I stepped onstage, every word disappeared from my head.

Finally, my teacher took me aside. She explained that she had written a narrator's part to the play, and asked me to switch roles. Her word, kindly delivered, still stung, especially when I saw my part go to another girl.

I didn't tell my mother what had happened when I went home for lunch that day. But she sensed my unease, and instead of suggesting we practice my lines, she asked If I wanted to walk in the yard.

It was a lovely spring day and the rose vine on the trellis was turning green. Under the huge elm trees, we could see yellow dandelions popping through the grass in bunches, as if a painter had touched our landscape with dabs of gold .I watched my mother casually bend down by one of the clumps. "I think I'm going to dig up all these weeds, "she said, yanking a blossom up by its roots. "From now on, we'll have only roses in this garden. "

"But I like dandelions, " I protested. "All flowers are beautiful-even dandelions. "My mother looked at me seriously. "Yes, every flower gives pleasure in its own way, doesn't it?" She asked thoughtfully. I nodded, pleased that I had won her over. "And that is true of people too, " she added. "Not everyone can be a princess, but there is no shame in that.

Relieved that she had guessed my pain, I started to cry as I told her what had happened. She listened and smiled reassuringly.

"But you will be a beautiful narrator, " she said , reminding me of how much I loved to read stories aloud to her . "The narrator's part is every bit as important as the part of a princess. "

Over the next few weeks, with her constant encouragement, I learned to take pride in the role. Lunchtimes were spent reading over my lines and talking abut what I would wear.

Backstage the night of the performance, I felt nervous. A few minutes before the play, my teacher came over to me. "Your mother asked me to give this to you, " she said, handing me a dandelion. Its edges were already beginning to curl and it flopped lazily from its stem. But just looking at it, knowing my mother was out there and thinking of our lunchtime talk, made me proud .

After the play , I took home the flower I had stuffed in the apron of my costume . My mother pressed it between two sheets of paper toweling in a dictionary , laughing as she did it that we were perhaps the only people who would press such a sorry-looking weed .

I often look back on our lunchtimes together , bathed in the soft midday light . They were the commas in my childhood , the pauses that told me life is not savored in premeasured increment , but in the sum of daily rituals and small pleasures we casually share with loved ones . Over peanut-butter sandwiches and chocolate-chip cookies , I learned that love , first and foremost , means being there for the little things .

A few months ago , my mother came to visit , I took off a day from work and treated her to lunch. The restaurant bustled with noontime activity as businesspeople made deals and glanced at their watches . In the middle of all this sat my mother , now retired , and I . From her face I could see that she relished the pace of the work world .

"Mom , you must have been terribly bored staying at home when I was a child , " I said .

"Bored? Housework is boring . But you were never boring . "

I didn't believe her , so I pressed . "Surely children are not as stimulating as a career. "

"A career is stimulating , " she said . "I'm glad I had one . But a career is like an open balloon. It remains inflated only as long as you keep pumping . A child is a seed . You water it . You care for it the best you can . And then it grows all by itself into a beautiful flower . "

Just then , looking at her , I could picture us sitting at her kitchen table once again , and I understood why I kept that flaky brown dandelion in our old family dictionary pressed between two crumpled bits of paper towel.

母親的禮物

我是在一個(gè)小鎮(zhèn)上長(zhǎng)大的，從鎮(zhèn)上的小學(xué)校到我家， 只需步行10分鐘。離當(dāng)前不算太太久遠(yuǎn)的那個(gè)時(shí)代 ， 小學(xué)生可以回家吃午飯，而他們的母親，則會(huì)老早在家等候著。

這 一切對(duì)如今的孩子來(lái)說(shuō)，無(wú)疑是一種奢望了，可是那時(shí)的我，卻并不以為然。 我覺(jué)得做母親的給她的孩子制作三明治，鑒賞指畫(huà)，檢查他們的家庭作業(yè)，都是理所當(dāng)然的事。我從來(lái)沒(méi)有想過(guò)：像我母親這樣一個(gè)頗有抱負(fù)又很聰明的女人，在我 降生之前，她有一份工作，而且后來(lái)她又謀了份差事，可是，在我上小學(xué)那幾年，她卻幾乎天天陪著我吃午飯，一同打發(fā)午餐時(shí)的每一分鐘。

只記得，每當(dāng)午時(shí)鈴聲一響，我就一口氣地往家里跑。母親總是站在門(mén)前臺(tái)階的最高層，笑盈盈地望著我--那神情分明表示：我便是母親心目中唯一最重要的東西了。為此，我一輩子都要感謝我的母親。

如 今，每當(dāng)我聽(tīng)到一些聲音，像母親那把茶壺水開(kāi)時(shí)發(fā)出的尖叫聲，地下室洗衣機(jī)的隆隆聲，還有， 我那條狗蹦下臺(tái)階沖我搖頭擺尾時(shí)它脖子上那牌照發(fā)出的撞擊聲，便會(huì)勾起我對(duì)往事的回憶。和母親在一起的歲月，全然沒(méi)有充斥于我的生活中的、事先排定的虛情 假意的日程表。我永遠(yuǎn)忘不了在我上三年級(jí)時(shí)的那一頓午飯。在那天之前，我被學(xué)校選中，要在一個(gè)即將演出的小劇中扮演公主的角色。一連好幾個(gè)禮拜，母親總是 不辭辛勞地陪著我，一起背誦臺(tái)詞?？墒?，不管在家里怎么背得滾瓜爛熟，只要一上舞臺(tái)，我的腦子里就成了一片空白。終于，老師把我叫到了一邊。她說(shuō)劇中旁白 這個(gè)角色的臺(tái)詞已寫(xiě)好了，想把我替換下來(lái)當(dāng)旁白。盡管老師這些話說(shuō)得和和氣氣，可還是刺痛了我的心，特別是當(dāng)我發(fā)覺(jué)自己扮演的公主角色讓另外一個(gè)女孩頂替 時(shí)，更是如此。那天回家吃午飯時(shí)我沒(méi)有把這事告訴母親。然而，母親見(jiàn)我心神不定，因此沒(méi)有再提練習(xí)背臺(tái)詞的事兒，而是問(wèn)我愿意不愿意到院子里散散步。那真 是一個(gè)可愛(ài)的春日，棚架上薔薇的藤蔓正在轉(zhuǎn)青。在一些高大的榆樹(shù)下面，我們可以看到，一叢叢黃色的蒲公英冒出草坪，仿佛是一位畫(huà)家為了給眼前的美景增色而 著意加上的點(diǎn)點(diǎn)金色。我看到母親在一簇花叢旁漫不經(jīng)心地彎下身來(lái)。"我看得把這些野草都撥了，"她說(shuō)著，一邊使勁把一叢蒲公英連根撥出。"往后咱這園子里 只讓長(zhǎng)薔薇花。""可是我喜歡蒲公英，"我不滿地說(shuō)，"凡是花都好看--蒲公英也不例外。"

母親嚴(yán)肅地看著我。"噢，這么說(shuō)，每朵花都自有 它令人賞心悅目的地方嘍?"她若有所思地問(wèn)道。我點(diǎn)了點(diǎn)頭，總算說(shuō)服了母親，這使我很得意。"可是人也一樣呀，"母親接著又發(fā)話，"不見(jiàn)得人人都能當(dāng)公 主，但當(dāng)不了公主并不丟臉。"母親猜到了我的苦惱，這使我的情緒安定下來(lái)。我哭了起來(lái)，把事情的經(jīng)過(guò)講給母親聽(tīng)。母親專注地聽(tīng)著，臉上帶著安詳?shù)奈⑿Α?quot; 但你會(huì)成為一名頂呱呱的解說(shuō)員，"母親又說(shuō)。她說(shuō)平常我是多么喜歡朗誦故事給她聽(tīng)，還說(shuō)"從哪方面看，旁白這個(gè)角色都和公主那個(gè)角色一樣重要"。往后的幾 個(gè)星期，在母親的一再鼓勵(lì)下，我漸漸地以擔(dān)任旁白的角色感到驕傲。利用午飯時(shí)間，我們又一起念臺(tái)詞，議論到時(shí)候我該穿什么樣的演出服裝。

到 了演出那個(gè)晚上，當(dāng)我登上后臺(tái)，心里還感到緊張。離演出還有幾分鐘的時(shí)候，老師朝我走了過(guò)來(lái)。"你母親讓我把這個(gè)交給你，"說(shuō)著她遞過(guò)來(lái)了一朵蒲公英。那 花兒四周已開(kāi)始打蔫，花瓣兒從梗上向下有氣無(wú)力地耷拉著。可是，只要看一眼，知道母親就在外面呆著，回想起和母親用午飯時(shí)說(shuō)的那些話，我就感到胸有成竹。 演出結(jié)束后，我把塞在演出服圍裙里的那朵蒲公英拿回了家。母親將花接了過(guò)去，用兩張紙巾將它壓平，夾在了一本字典里。她一邊忙碌著，一邊笑，想到也許只有 我們倆會(huì)珍藏這么一朵打了蔫的野草花。我常?；叵肫鸷湍赣H在一起度過(guò)的那些沐浴在和煦陽(yáng)光之中的午餐時(shí)光。它們是我孩提時(shí)代的一個(gè)個(gè)小插曲，告訴我一個(gè)道 理：人生的滋味，就在于和我們所愛(ài)的人在一起不經(jīng)意地共度的日常生活、分享的點(diǎn)點(diǎn)滴滴的歡樂(lè)，而不在于某種事先測(cè)量好的"添加劑"。在享用母親做的花生 醬、三明治和巧克力碎末小甜餅的時(shí)候，我懂得了，愛(ài)就體現(xiàn)在這些細(xì)微這處。

幾個(gè)月前，母親又來(lái)看我。我特意請(qǐng)了天假，陪母親吃午飯。中午， 飯館里熙熙壤攘，做生意的人忙不迭地從事交易活動(dòng)，他們不時(shí)地看看手表。如今已經(jīng)退休的母親和我就坐在這群人中間。從母親的表情中，我看得出，母親打心眼 里喜歡上班族這種生活的節(jié)奏。"媽，我小的時(shí)候，您老呆在家里一定覺(jué)得很煩吧?"我說(shuō)。"煩?做家務(wù)是令人心煩，不過(guò)，你從來(lái)沒(méi)使我感到心煩過(guò)。"我不相 信這是實(shí)話，于是我又想法子套她的話。"看孩子哪會(huì)像工作那樣富有刺激性呢?""工作是富有刺激性的，"母親答道，"很高興我也有過(guò)工作?？墒枪ぷ骱帽乳_(kāi) 了口的氣球，你只有不停地充氣，它才能鼓著勁?？墒且粋€(gè)孩子就是一粒種子，你澆灌了它，全心全意地愛(ài)護(hù)它，然后，它就會(huì)獨(dú)立自主地開(kāi)出美麗的花朵來(lái)。"此 時(shí)此刻，我凝望著我的母親，腦海里又浮現(xiàn)出兒時(shí)的我和母親一起坐在飯桌旁的情景，也明白了為什么我還珍藏著夾在我們家里那本舊字典中的那朵用兩小塊皺皺巴 巴的紙巾壓平的蒲公英。