媽媽用英語怎么寫
媽媽，是這個世界上最好聽的字眼，讀英文的媽媽發(fā)音時不外如是。下面是學習啦小編給大家整理的媽媽用英語怎么寫，供大家參閱!
媽媽用英語怎么寫
英 [ˈmɒmi] 美 [ˈmɑmi]
mommy
n. <兒>媽咪;
變形 復數: mommies
關于媽媽的英語故事
THE STORY OF A MOTHER
A mother sat there with her little child. She was so downcast, so afraid that
it should die! It was so pale, the small eyes had closed themselves, and it
drew its breath so softly, now and then, with a deep respiration, as if it
sighed; and the mother looked still more sorrowfully on the little creature.
Then a knocking was heard at the door, and in came a poor old man wrapped up
as in a large horse-cloth, for it warms one, and he needed it, as it was the
cold winter season! Everything out-of-doors was covered with ice and snow, and
the wind blew so that it cut the face.
As the old man trembled with cold, and the little child slept a moment, the
mother went and poured some ale into a pot and set it on the stove, that it
might be warm for him; the old man sat and rocked the cradle, and the mother
sat down on a chair close by him, and looked at her little sick child that
drew its breath so deep, and raised its little hand.
"Do you not think that I shall save him?" said she. "Our Lord will not take
him from me!"
And the old man--it was Death himself--he nodded so strangely, it could just
as well signify yes as no. And the mother looked down in her lap, and the
tears ran down over her cheeks; her head became so heavy--she had not closed
her eyes for three days and nights; and now she slept, but only for a minute,
when she started up and trembled with cold.
"What is that?" said she, and looked on all sides; but the old man was gone,
and her little child was gone--he had taken it with him; and the old clock in
the corner burred, and burred, the great leaden weight ran down to the floor,
bump! and then the clock also stood still.
But the poor mother ran out of the house and cried aloud for her child.
Out there, in the midst of the snow, there sat a woman in long, black clothes;
and she said, "Death has been in thy chamber, and I saw him hasten away with
thy little child; he goes faster than the wind, and he never brings back what
he takes!"
"Oh, only tell me which way he went!" said the mother. "Tell me the way, and I
shall find him!"
"I know it!" said the woman in the black clothes. "But before I tell it, thou
must first sing for me all the songs thou hast sung for thy child! I am fond
of them. I have heard them before; I am Night; I saw thy tears whilst thou
sang'st them!"
"I will sing them all, all!" said the mother. "But do not stop me now--I may
overtake him--I may find my child!"
But Night stood still and mute. Then the mother wrung her hands, sang and
wept, and there were many songs, but yet many more tears; and then Night said,
"Go to the right, into the dark pine forest; thither I saw Death take his way
with thy little child!"
The roads crossed each other in the depths of the forest, and she no longer
knew whither she should go! then there stood a thorn-bush; there was neither
leaf nor flower on it, it was also in the cold winter season, and ice-flakes
hung on the branches.
"Hast thou not seen Death go past with my little child?" said the mother.
"Yes," said the thorn-bush; "but I will not tell thee which way he took,
unless thou wilt first warm me up at thy heart. I am freezing to death; I
shall become a lump of ice!"
And she pressed the thorn-bush to her breast, so firmly, that it might be
thoroughly warmed, and the thorns went right into her flesh, and her blood
flowed in large drops, but the thornbush shot forth fresh green leaves, and
there came flowers on it in the cold winter night, the heart of the afflicted
mother was so warm; and the thorn-bush told her the way she should go.
She then came to a large lake, where there was neither ship nor boat. The lake
was not frozen sufficiently to bear her; neither was it open, nor low enough
that she could wade through it; and across it she must go if she would find
her child! Then she lay down to drink up the lake, and that was an
impossibility for a human being, but the afflicted mother thought that a
miracle might happen nevertheless.
"Oh, what would I not give to come to my child!" said the weeping mother; and
she wept still more, and her eyes sunk down in the depths of the waters, and
became two precious pearls; but the water bore her up, as if she sat in a
swing, and she flew in the rocking waves to the shore on the opposite side,
where there stood a mile-broad, strange house, one knew not if it were a
mountain with forests and caverns, or if it were built up; but the poor mother
could not see it; she had wept her eyes out.
"Where shall I find Death, who took away my little child?" said she.
"He has not come here yet!" said the old grave woman, who was appointed to
look after Death's great greenhouse! "How have you been able to find the way
hither? And who has helped you?"
"OUR LORD has helped me," said she. "He is merciful, and you will also be so!
Where shall I find my little child?"
"Nay, I know not," said the woman, "and you cannot see! Many flowers and trees
have withered this night; Death will soon come and plant them over again!
You certainly know that every person has his or her life's tree or flower,
just as everyone happens to be settled; they look like other plants, but they
have pulsations of the heart. Children's hearts can also beat; go after yours,
perhaps you may know your child's; but what will you give me if I tell you
what you shall do more?"
"I have nothing to give," said the afflicted mother, "but I will go to the
world's end for you!"
"Nay, I have nothing to do there!" said the woman. "But you can give me your
long black hair; you know yourself that it is fine, and that I like! You shall
have my white hair instead, and that's always something!"
"Do you demand nothing else?" said she. "That I will gladly give you!" And she
gave her her fine black hair, and got the old woman's snow-white hair instead.
So they went into Death's great greenhouse, where flowers and trees grew
strangely into one another. There stood fine hyacinths under glass bells, and
there stood strong-stemmed peonies; there grew water plants, some so fresh,
others half sick, the water-snakes lay down on them, and black crabs pinched
their stalks. There stood beautiful palm-trees, oaks, and plantains; there
stood parsley and flowering thyme: every tree and every flower had its name;
each of them was a human life, the human frame still lived--one in China, and
another in Greenland--round about in the world. There were large trees in
small pots, so that they stood so stunted in growth, and ready to burst the
pots; in other places, there was a little dull flower in rich mould, with moss
round about it, and it was so petted and nursed. But the distressed mother
bent down over all the smallest plants, and heard within them how the human
heart beat; and amongst millions she knew her child's.
"There it is!" cried she, and stretched her hands out over a little blue
crocus, that hung quite sickly on one side.
"Don't touch the flower!" said the old woman. "But place yourself here, and
when Death comes--I expect him every moment--do not let him pluck the flower
up, but threaten him that you will do the same with the others. Then he will
be afraid! He is responsible for them to OUR LORD, and no one dares to pluck
them up before HE gives leave."
All at once an icy cold rushed through the great hall, and the blind mother
could feel that it was Death that came.
"How hast thou been able to find thy way hither?" he asked. "How couldst thou
come quicker than I?"
"I am a mother," said she.
And Death stretched out his long hand towards the fine little flower, but she
held her hands fast around his, so tight, and yet afraid that she should touch
one of the leaves. Then Death blew on her hands, and she felt that it was
colder than the cold wind, and her hands fell down powerless.
"Thou canst not do anything against me!" said Death.
"But OUR LORD can!" said she.
"I only do His bidding!" said Death. "I am His gardener, I take all His
flowers and trees, and plant them out in the great garden of Paradise, in the
unknown land; but how they grow there, and how it is there I dare not tell
thee."
"Give me back my child!" said the mother, and she wept and prayed. At once she
seized hold of two beautiful flowers close by, with each hand, and cried out
to Death, "I will tear all thy flowers off, for I am in despair."
"Touch them not!" said Death. "Thou say'st that thou art so unhappy, and now
thou wilt make another mother equally unhappy."
"Another mother!" said the poor woman, and directly let go her hold of both
the flowers.
"There, thou hast thine eyes," said Death; "I fished them up from the lake,
they shone so bright; I knew not they were thine. Take them again, they are
now brighter than before; now look down into the deep well close by; I shall
tell thee the names of the two flowers thou wouldst have torn up, and thou
wilt see their whole future life--their whole human existence: and see what
thou wast about to disturb and destroy."
And she looked down into the well; and it was a happiness to see how the one
became a blessing to the world, to see how much happiness and joy were felt
everywhere. And she saw the other's life, and it was sorrow and distress,
horror, and wretchedness.
"Both of them are God's will!" said Death.
"Which of them is Misfortune's flower and which is that of Happiness?" asked
she.
"That I will not tell thee," said Death; "but this thou shalt know from me,
that the one flower was thy own child! it was thy child's fate thou
saw'st--thy own child's future life!"
Then the mother screamed with terror, "Which of them was my child? Tell it me!
Save the innocent! Save my child from all that misery! Rather take it away!
Take it into God's kingdom! Forget my tears, forget my prayers, and all that I
have done!"
"I do not understand thee!" said Death. "Wilt thou have thy child again, or
shall I go with it there, where thou dost not know!"
Then the mother wrung her hands, fell on her knees, and prayed to our Lord:
"Oh, hear me not when I pray against Thy will, which is the best! hear me not!
hear me not!"
And she bowed her head down in her lap, and Death took her child and went with
it into the unknown land.
母親的故事
一個母親坐在她孩子的身旁，非常焦慮，因為她害怕孩子會死去。他的小臉蛋已經沒有血色了，他的眼睛閉起來了。他的呼吸很困難，只偶爾深深地吸一口氣，好像在嘆息。母親望著這個小小的生物，樣子比以前更愁苦。有人在敲門。一個窮苦的老頭兒走進來了。他裹著一件寬大得像馬氈一樣的衣服，因為這使人感到更溫暖，而且他也有這個需要。外面是寒冷的冬天，一切都被雪和冰覆蓋了，風吹得厲害，刺人的面孔。
當老頭兒正凍得發(fā)抖、這孩子暫時睡著了的時候，母親就走過去，在火爐上的一個小罐子里倒進一點啤酒，為的是讓這老人喝了暖一下。老人坐下來，搖著搖籃。母親也在他旁邊的一張椅子上坐下來，望著她那個呼吸很困難的病孩子，握著他的一只小手。
"你以為我要把他拉住，是不是?"她問。"我們的上帝不會把他從我手中奪去的!"
這個老頭兒——他就是死神——用一種奇怪的姿勢點了點頭，他的意思好像是說"是"，又像"不是"。母親低下頭來望著地面，眼淚沿著雙頰向下流。她的頭非常沉重，因為她三天三夜沒有合過眼睛?，F在她是睡著了，不過只睡著了片刻;于是她驚醒起來，打著寒顫。
"這是怎么一回事?"她說，同時向四周望望。不過那個老頭兒已經不見了;她的孩子也不見了——他已經把他帶走了。墻角那兒的一座老鐘在發(fā)出咝咝的聲音，"撲通!"那個鉛做的老鐘擺落到地上來了。鐘也停止了活動。
但是這個可憐的母親跑到門外來，喊著她的孩子。
在外面的雪地上坐著一個穿黑長袍的女人。她說："死神剛才和你一道坐在你的房間里;我看到他抱著你的孩子急急忙忙地跑走了。他跑起路來比風還快。凡是他所拿走的東西，他永遠也不會再送回來的!"
"請告訴我，他朝哪個方向走了?"母親說。"請把方向告訴我，我要去找他!"
"我知道!"穿黑衣服的女人說。"不過在我告訴你以前，你必須把你對你的孩子唱過的歌都唱給我聽一次。我非常喜歡那些歌;我從前聽過。我就是'夜之神'。你唱的時候，我看到你流出眼淚來。"
"我將把這些歌唱給你聽，都唱給你聽!"母親說。"不過請不要留住我，因為我得趕上他，把我的孩子找回來。"
不過夜之神坐著一聲不響。母親只有痛苦地扭著雙手，唱著歌，流著眼淚。她唱的歌很多，但她流的眼淚更多，于是夜之神說："你可以向右邊的那個黑樅樹林走去;我看到死神抱著你的孩子走到那條路上去了。"
路在樹林深處和另一條路交叉起來;她不知道走哪條路好。這兒有一叢荊棘，既沒有一起葉子，也沒有一朵花。這時正是嚴寒的冬天，那些小枝上只掛著冰柱。
"你看到死神抱著我的孩子走過去沒有?"
"看到過。"荊棘叢說，"不過我不愿告訴你他所去的方向，除非你把我抱在你的胸脯上溫暖一下。我在這兒凍得要死，我快要變成冰了。"
于是她就把荊棘叢抱在自行的胸脯上，抱得很緊，好使它能夠感到溫暖。荊棘刺進她的肌肉;她的血一滴一滴地流出來。但是荊棘叢長出了新鮮的綠葉，而且在這寒冷的冬夜開出了花，因為這位愁苦的母親的心是那么地溫暖!于是荊棘叢就告訴她應該朝哪個方向走。
她來到了一個大湖邊。湖上既沒有大船，也沒有小舟。湖上還沒有足夠的厚冰可以托住她，但是水又不夠淺，她不能涉水走過去。不過，假如她要找到她的孩子的話，她必須走過這個湖。于是她就蹲下來喝這湖的水;但是誰也喝不完這水的。這個愁苦的母親只是在幻想一個什么奇跡發(fā)生。
"不成，這是一件永遠不可能的事情!"湖說。"我們還是來談談條件吧!我喜歡收集珠子，而你的眼睛是我從來沒有見到過的兩顆最明亮的珠子。如果你能夠把它們哭出來交給我的話，我就可以把你送到那個大的溫室里去。死神就住在那兒種植著花和樹。每一棵花或樹就是一個人的生命!"
"啊，為了我的孩子，我什么都可以犧牲!"哭著的母親說。于是她哭得更厲害，結果她的眼睛墜到湖里去了，成了兩顆最貴重的珍珠。湖把她托起來，就像她是坐在一個秋千架上似的。這樣，她就浮到對面的岸上去了——這兒有一幢十多里路寬的奇怪的房子。人們不知道這究竟是一座有許多樹林和洞口的大山呢，還是一幢用木頭建筑起來的房子。不過這個可憐的母親看不見它，因為她已經把她的兩顆眼珠都哭出來了。
"我到什么地方去找那個把我的孩子抱走了的死神呢?"她問。
"他還沒有到這兒來!"一個守墳墓的老太婆說。她專門看守死神的溫室。"你怎樣找到這兒來的?誰幫助你的?"
"我們的上帝幫助我的!"她說。"他是很仁慈的，所以你應該也很仁慈。我在什么地方可以找到我親愛的孩子呢?"
"我不知道，"老太婆說，"你也看不見!這天晚上有許多花和樹都凋謝了，死神馬上就會到來，重新移植它們!你知道得很清楚，每個人有他自己的生命之樹，或生命之花，完全看他的安排是怎樣。它們跟別的植物完全一樣，不過它們有一顆跳動的心。小孩子的心也會跳的。你去找吧，也許你能聽出你的孩子的心的搏動。不過，假如我把你下一步應該做的事情告訴你，你打算給我什么酬勞呢?"
"我沒有什么東西可以給你了，"這個悲哀的母親說。"但是我可以為你走到世界的盡頭去。"
"我沒有什么事情要你到那兒去辦，"老太婆說。"不過你可以把你又長又黑的頭發(fā)給我。你自己知道，那是很美麗的，我很喜歡!作為交換，你可以把我的白頭發(fā)拿去——那總比沒有好。"
"如果你不再要求什么別的東西的話，"她說，"那么我愿意把它送給你!"
于是她把她美麗的黑頭發(fā)交給了老太婆，同時作為交換，得到了她的雪白的頭發(fā)。
這樣，她們就走進死神的大溫室里去。這兒花和樹奇形怪狀地繁生在一起。玻璃鐘底下培養(yǎng)著美麗的風信子;大朵的、耐寒的牡丹花在盛開。在種種不同的水生植物中，有許多還很新鮮，有許多已經半枯萎了，水蛇在它們上面盤繞著，黑螃蟹緊緊地鉗著它們的梗子。那兒還有許多美麗的棕櫚樹、櫟樹和梧桐樹;那兒還有芹菜花和盛開的麝香草。每一棵樹和每一種花都有一個名字，它們每一棵都代表一個人的生命;這些人還是活著的，有的在中國，有的在格林蘭，散布在全世界。有些大樹栽在小花盆里，因此都顯得很擠，幾乎把花盆都要脹破了。在肥沃的土地上有好幾塊地方還種著許多嬌弱的小花，它們周圍長著一些青苔;人們在仔細地培養(yǎng)和照管它們。不過這個悲哀的母親在那些最小的植物上彎下腰來，靜聽它們的心跳。在這些無數的花中，她能聽出她的孩子的心跳。
"我找到了!"她叫著，同時把雙手向一朵藍色的早春花伸過來。這朵花正在把頭垂向一邊，有些病了。
"請不要動這朵花!"那個老太婆說："不過請你等在這兒。當死神到來的時候——我想他隨時可以到來——請不要讓他拔掉這棵花。你可以威脅他說，你要把所有的植物都拔掉;那么他就會害怕的。他得為這些植物對上帝負責;在他沒有得到上帝的許可以前，誰也不能拔掉它們。"
這時忽然有一陣冷風吹進房間里來了。這個沒有眼睛的母親看不出，這就是死神的來臨。
"你怎么找到這塊地方的?"他說。"你怎么比我還來得早?"
"因為我是一個母親呀!"她說。
死神向這朵嬌柔的小花伸出長手來;可是她用雙手緊緊抱著它不放。同時她又非常焦急，生怕弄壞了它的一起花瓣。于是死神就朝著她的手吹。她覺得這比寒風還冷;于是她的手垂下來了，一點氣力也沒有。
"你怎樣也反抗不了我的!"死神說。
"不過我們的上帝可以的!"她說。
"我只是執(zhí)行他的命令!"死神說。"我是他的園丁。我把他所有的花和樹移植到天國，到那個神秘國土里的樂園中去。不過它們怎樣在那兒生長，怎樣在那兒生活，我可不敢告訴給你聽!"
"請把我的孩子還給我吧!"母親說。她一面說，一面哀求著。忽然她用雙手抓住近旁兩朵美麗的花，大聲對死神說："我要把你的花都拔掉，因為我現在沒有路走!"
"不準動它們!"死神說。"你說你很痛苦;但是你現在卻要讓一個別的母親也感到同樣地痛苦!"
"一個別的母親?"這個可憐的母親說。她馬上松開了那兩棵花。
"這是你的眼珠，"死神說。"我已經把它們從湖里撈出來了;它們非常明亮。我不知道這原來就是你的。收回去吧;它們現在比以前更加明亮，請你朝你旁邊的那個井底望一下吧。我要把你想要拔掉的這兩棵花的名字告訴你;那么你就會知道它們的整個的未來，整個的人間生活;那么你就會知道，你所要摧毀的究竟是什么東西。"
她向井底下望。她真感到莫大的愉快，看見一個生命是多么幸福，看見它的周圍是一起多么愉快和歡樂的氣象。她又看那另一個生命：它是憂愁和平困、苦難和悲哀的化身。
"這兩種命運都是上帝的意志!"死神說。
"它們之中哪一朵是受難之花，哪一朵是幸福之花呢?"她問。
"我不能告訴你。"死神回答說。"不過有一點你可以知道："這兩朵花之中有一朵是你自己的孩子。你剛才所看到的就是你的孩子的命運——你親生孩子的未來。"
母親驚恐得叫起來。
"它們哪一朵是我的孩子呢?請您告訴我吧!請您救救天真的孩子吧!請把我的孩子從苦難中救出來吧!還是請您把他帶走吧!把他帶到上帝的國度里去!請忘記我的眼淚，我的祈求，原諒我剛才所說的和做的一切事情吧!"
"我不懂你的意思!"死神說。"你想要把你的孩子抱回去呢，還是讓我把他帶到一個你所不知道的地方去呢?"
這時母親扭著雙手，雙膝跪下來，向我們的上帝祈禱：
"您的意志永遠是好的。請不要理我所作的違反您的意志的祈禱!請不要理我!請不要理我!"
于是她把頭低低地垂下來。
死神帶著她的孩子飛到那個不知名的國度里去了。
關于媽媽的英語故事：媽媽和孩子
It was Christmas 1961. I was teaching in a small town in Ohio where my twenty-seven third graders eagerly anticipated the great day of gifts giving.
那是1961年的圣誕節(jié)。我在俄亥俄州的一個小鎮(zhèn)上教小學三年級。班上27個孩子都在積極參加"禮物贈送日"的活動。
A tree covered with tinsel and gaudy paper chains graced one corner. In another rested a manger scene produced from cardboard and poster paints by chubby, and sometimes grubby, hands. Someone had brought a doll and placed it on the straw in the cardboard box that served as the manger. It didn't matter that you could pull a string and hear the blue-eyed, golden-haired dolly say, "My name is Susie." "But Jesus was a boy baby!" one of the boys proclaimed. Nonetheless, Susie stayed.
教室的一角被一棵樹裝點得熠熠生輝，樹上綴滿了金銀絲帛和華麗的彩紙。教室的另一角是一個涂著海報油彩由紙板制成的馬槽，這出自孩子們那胖乎乎、臟兮兮的小手。有人帶來了一個娃娃，把它放在紙板槽里的稻草上(假裝小耶穌)。只要拉拉它身上的一條細繩，這個藍眼睛、金發(fā)的娃娃就會說道，"我叫蘇西"，不過這都沒有關系。一個男孩提出："耶穌可是個小男孩呀!"不過蘇西還是留了下來。
Each day the children produced some new wonder -- strings of popcorn, hand-made trinkets, and German bells made from wallpaper samples, which we hung from the ceiling. Through it all she remained aloof, watching from afar, seemingly miles away. I wondered what would happen to this quiet child, once so happy, now so suddenly withdrawn. I hoped the festivities would appeal to her. But nothing did. We made cards and gifts for mothers and dads, for sisters and brothers, for grandparents, and for each other. At home the students made the popular fried marbles and vied with one another to bring in the prettiest ones. " You put them in a hot frying pan, Teacher. And you let them get real hot, and then you watch what happens inside. But you don't fry them too long or they break."So, as my gift to them, I made each of my students a little pouch for carrying their fried marbles. And I knew they had each made something for me: bookmarks carefully cut, colored, and sometimes pasted together; cards and special drawings; liquid embroidery doilies, hand-fringed, of course.
每天孩子們都會做點兒新玩意--爆米花串成的細鏈子、手工做的小裝飾品和墻紙樣做的德國式風鈴，我們把這些風鈴掛在了天花板上。但自始至終，她都是孤零零地遠遠觀望，仿佛是隔了一道幾里長的障礙。我猜想著這個沉默的孩子發(fā)生了什么事，原來那個快樂的孩子怎么突然變得沉默寡言起來。我希望節(jié)日的活動能吸引她，可還是無濟于事。我們制作了許多卡片和禮物，準備把它們送給爸爸媽媽、兄弟姐妹、祖父母和身邊的同學。學生們在家里做了當時很流行“油炸"玻璃彈子，并且相互比著，要把最好看的拿來。"老師，把玻璃彈子放在熱油鍋里，讓它們燒熱，然后看看里面的變化。但不要炸得時間過長否則會破裂。"所以，我給每個學生做了一個裝"油炸彈子"的小袋作為禮物送給他們。我知道他們每個人也都為我做了禮物：仔細剪裁、著色，或已粘集成串的書簽;賀卡和特別繪制的圖片;透明的鑲邊碗碟墊布，當然是手工編制的流蘇。
The day of gift-giving finally came. We oohed and aahed over our handiwork as the presents were exchanged. Through it all, she sat quietly watching. I had made a special pouch for her, red and green with white lace. I wanted very much to see her smile. She opened the package so slowly and carefully. I waited but she turned away. I had not penetrated the wall of isolation she had built around herself.
贈送禮物的那天終于到了。在交換禮物時我們?yōu)閷Ψ接H手做的小禮品不停地歡呼叫好。而整個過程，她只是安靜地坐在那兒看著。我為她做的小袋很特別，紅綠相間還鑲著白邊。我非常想看到她笑一笑。她打開包裝，動作又慢又小心。我等待著，但是她卻轉過了身。我還是沒能穿過她在自己周圍樹起的高墻，這堵墻將她與大家隔離了開來。
After school the children left in little groups, chattering about the great day yet to come when long-hoped-for two-wheelers and bright sleds would appear beside their trees at home. She lingered, watching them bundle up and go out the door. I sat down in a child-sized chair to catch my breath, hardly aware of what was happening, when she came to me with outstretched hands, bearing a small white box, unwrapped and slightly soiled, as though it had been held many times by unwashed, childish hands. She said nothing. "For me?" I asked with a weak smile. She said not a word, but nodded her head. I took the box and gingerly opened it. There inside, glistening green, a fried marble hung from a golden chain. Then I looked into that elderly eight-year-old face and saw the question in her dark brown eyes. In a flash I knew -- she had made it for her mother, a mother she would never see again, a mother who would never hold her or brush her hair or share a funny story, a mother who would never again hear her childish joys or sorrows. A mother who had taken her own life just three weeks before.
放學后，學生們三三倆倆地離開了，邊走邊說著即將到來的圣誕節(jié)：家中的圣誕樹旁將發(fā)現自己心系已久的自行車和嶄新發(fā)亮的雪橇。她慢慢地走在后面，看著大家擁擠著走出門外。我坐在孩子們的小椅子上稍稍松了口氣，對要發(fā)生的事沒有一點準備。這時她向我走來，雙手拿著一個白色的盒子向我伸過來。盒子沒有打包裝，稍有些臟。好像是被孩子未洗過的小手摸過了好多遍。她沒有說話。"給我的嗎?"我微微一笑。她沒出聲，只是點點頭。我接過盒子，非常小心地打開它。盒子里面有一條金色的鏈子，上面墜著一塊閃閃發(fā)光的“油炸"玻璃彈子。然后我看著她的臉，雖只有8歲，可卻是成人的表情。在她深棕色的眼睛里我找到了問題的答案。我在一瞬間明白過來--這是她為媽媽做的項鏈，她再也見不到的媽媽，再也不能抱她、給她梳頭或一起講故事的媽媽。她的媽媽已再也不能分享她充滿童稚的快樂，分擔她孩子氣的憂傷。就在3個星期前她的媽媽離開了人世。
I held out the chain. She took it in both her hands, reached forward, and secured the simple clasp at the back of my neck. She stepped back then as if to see that all was well. I looked down at the shiny piece of glass and the tarnished golden chain, then back at the giver. I meant it when I whispered," Oh, Maria, it is so beautiful. She would have loved it."Neither of us could stop the tears. She stumbled into my arms and we wept together. And for that brief moment I became her mother, for she had given me the greatest gift of all: herself.
我拿起那條鏈子。她用雙手接過它，向前探了探身，在我的脖子后把簡易的項鏈鉤系好。然后她向后退了幾步，好像在看看是否合適。我低下頭看著閃閃發(fā)亮的玻璃珠和已失去光澤的金色鏈子，然后抬起頭望著她。我很認真地輕聲說道：“哦，瑪麗亞，這鏈子真漂亮。你媽媽一定會喜歡的。"我們已無法抑制住淚水。她踉踉蹌蹌地撲進我的懷里，我們都哭了。在那短暫的一刻我成了她的媽媽，而她送給了我一份最珍貴的禮物：她的信任和愛。
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