Vol.11【母亲节特献《To Mothers》】

1.A letter from a daughter to her mother Dear God, Now that I am no longer young, I have friends whose mothers have passed away. I have heard these sons and daughters say they never fully appreciated their mothers until it was too late to tell them. I am blessed with the dear mother who is still alive.I appreciate her more each day.My mother does not change, but I do.As I grow older and wiser, I realize what an extraordinary person she is.How sad that I am unable to speak these words in her presence, but they floweasily from my pen.How does a daughter begin to thank her mother for life itself? For the love,patience and just plain hard work that go into raising a child?For running after a toddler, for understanding a moody teenager, for tolerating a college student who knows everything? For waiting for the day when a daughter realizes her mother really is? How does a grown woman thank for a mother for continuing to be a mother? For being ready with advice(when asked)or remaining silent when it is most appreciated? For not saying:"I told you so", when she could have uttered these words dozens of times?For being essentially herself——loving, thoughtful, patient, and forgiving? I don`t know how, dear God,except to bless her as richly as she deserves and to help me live up to the example she has set. I pray that I will look as good in the eyes of my children as my mother looks in mine. 我不知道该怎样来表达，亲爱的上帝，除了请求你好好地保佑她——那是她该得到的——并帮助我朝她做出的榜样看齐。我祈愿在孩子的眼里我会如同母亲在我眼里一般好。 A daughter 一个女儿 2. 歌曲欣赏 《Sinéad O`Connor-this is to mother you》 3. 《A spring time》by 萌萌 -Ker&Ler`s mother In Spring Time By Nancy Christie Each spring, the urge to plant something—a flower or vegetable or anything that would blossom and produce—pulled at her. It must have been a legacy from her grandmother who had, long ago, kept a garden of small and neat proportions. There had been cabbage-sized roses and delicate white pea blossoms. And in the fertile earth hid golden carrot spears and round white onions, layered and pearly. The garden gave forth its best from early spring, when the frost still powdered the ground, until late autumn amidst the flaming leaves. And Alice came to believe her grandmother had found the secret to life itself buried deep in the soft black earth. There had been space and light for things to grow at her grandmother’s house—unlike here in the city where even weeds had a difficult time breaking through the ever-present asphalt. There was no place for Alice to grow even a single flower—not in front of the brownstone building, where angled cracks only hinted at the earth below, not inside her small dark apartment where the life-giving sunlight would have to traverse an impossibly long distance just to reach her grimy windows. She had tried, that first year she had come to the city, when hope blossomed in her heart and the future seemed filled with promise. She had carried to her rooms a red clay pot of patio tomatoes, guaranteed to produce scarlet globes hanging in abundance from the dark green stems. But the lack of sunlight and fresh air turned the green to faded brown, and by summer’s end, the tomatoes themselves were shriveled and misshapen—a nightmare version of what nature intended. Alice threw the plant away, and never brought home another. Instead, every spring, when the desire for life burned in her, she would stop at the flower sellers waiting patiently outside the subway entrance and buy armfuls of freesias and roses and carnations. Tenderly, she would carry the paper-wrapped bundle home, to arrange the fragrant rootless blossoms in a crystal vase to die. 4.致母亲的祝福 裙角 蓝宇超 郭婉莹 Alan 常旭东 缪思磊 张衍熠 王博雅 杨梅 张冉