回忆我的母亲Memories of My Mother

回忆我的母亲Memories of My Mother

　　"long, long ago, there was an island in the distant sea,where lived a fairy who was said be able to make a child lovely and bright. one day, ......" as the story went on, mumps voice grew fainter and fainter, when she gently looked down at me.then a melodious song came into my ear as if music made by the angels flying in the faraway sky. gradually, mom's smile dimmed, and her glittering eyes were just like the brightest stars on the dark blue curtain of night......

　　countless nights had passed in this way during my infancy. in my naive heart, mother's voice was deeper and softer than the nightingale. even now i still remember quite clearly that cradlesong she used to sing before i fell asleep. those old melodies still sound so good to me, as they melt the years away.to me, mother's companionship was the most important thing in my childhood.

　　mother is an incurable romantic, passionately in love with life and with the mystery of the universe. she taught me to open up all the channels of my senses to touch and feel what lies all a round me, and discovered with me the beauty of nature, the joy,excitement and mystery of the new and the unknown. she is quite at home in literature because of her active and imaginative mind. every new experience, every new discovery concerning the world could delight her.

　　i went off to college, but mum is still always in my memory. i could hear her voice every time i fell short in anything.from breast to cradle to reassuring hug, mum has shared all the happiness and depression of mine. however, she never expressed herself. upon my entry into university, when she and father were going back home, she hurriedly turned back to run along, even without a look at me. i knew she dared not, for fear that tears should fall down in my presence. this separation would last nearly five months during which she could not see me. she was just trying to stop me from seeing her crying. i was refraining myself, too, because the long time living with her had made me an exact person like her. later, father told me she kept wiping her eyes on the bus to the railway station. i knew that, because i love you, mum, and you already knew that too.

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