Motherandchild英语手抄报ItwasChristmas1961.IwasteachinginasmalltowninOhiowheremytwenty-seventhirdgraderseagerlyanticipatedthegreatdayofgiftsgiving.Atreecoveredwithtinsel(金属箔)andgaudy(俗丽的.)paperchainsgracedonecorner.Inanotherrestedamangersceneproducedfromcardboardandposterpaintsbychubby(圆胖的),andsometimesgrubby,hands.Someonehadbroughtadollandplaceditonthestrawinthecardboardboxthatservedasthemanger.Itdidn'tmatterthatyoucouldpullastringandheartheblue-eyed,golden-haireddollysay,"MynameisSusie.""ButJesuswasaboybaby!"oneoftheboysproclaimed.Noheless,Susiestayed.Eachdaythechildrenproducedsomenewwonder--stringsofpopcorn,hand-madetrinkets,andGermanbellsmadefromwallpapersamples,whichwehungfromtheceiling.Throughitallsheremainedaloof,watchingfromafar,seeminglymilesaway.Iwonderedwhatwouldhappentothisquietchild,oncesohappy,nowsosuddenlywithdrawn.Ihopedthefestivitieswouldappealtoher.Butnothingdid.Wemadecardsandgiftsformothersanddads,forsistersandbrothers,forgrandparents,andforeachother.Athomethestudentsmadethepopularfriedmarblesandviedwithoneanothertobringintheprettiestones."Youputtheminahotfryingpan,Teacher.Andyouletthemgetrealhot,andthenyouwatchwhathappensinside.Butyoudon'tfrythemtoolongortheybreak."So,asmygifttothem,Imadeeachofmystudentsalittlepouchforcarryingtheirfriedmarbles.AndIknewtheyhadeachmadesomethingforme:bookmarkscarefullycut,colored,andsometimespastedtogether;cardsandspecialdrawings;liquidembroidery(刺绣)doilies,hand-fringed,ofcourse.Thedayofgift-givingfinallycame.Weoohedandaahedoverourhandiworkasthepresentswereexchanged.Throughitall,shesatquietlywatching.Ihadmadeaspecialpouchforher,redandgreenwithwhitelace.Iwantedverymuchtoseehersmile.Sheopenedthepackagesoslowlyandcarefully.Iwaitedbutsheturnedaway.Ihadnotperatedthewallofisolationshehadbuiltaroundherself.Afterschoolthechildrenleftinlittlegroups,chatteringaboutthegreatdayyettoewhenlong-hoped-fortwo-wheelersandbrightsleds(雪橇)wouldappearbesidetheirtreesathome.Shelingered,watchingthembundleupandgooutthedoor.Isatdowninachild-sizedchairtocatchmybreath,hardlyawareofwhatwashappening,whenshecametomewithoutstretchedhands,bearingasmallwhitebox,unwrappedandslightlysoiled,asthoughithadbeenheldmanytimesbyunwashed,childishhands.Shesaidnothing."Forme?"Iaskedwithaweaksmile.Shesaidnotaword,butnoddedherhead.Itooktheboxandgingerlyopenedit.Thereinside,glisteninggreen,afriedmarblehungfromagoldenchain.ThenIlookedintothatelderlyeight-year-oldfaceandsawthequestioninherdarkbrowneyes.InaflashIknew--shehadmadeitforhermother,amothershewouldneverseeagain,amotherwhowouldneverholdherorbrushherhairorshareafunnystory,amotherwhowouldneveragainhearherchildishjoysorsorrows.Amotherwhohadtakenherownlifejustthreeweeksbefore.Iheldoutthechain.Shetookitinbothherhands,reachedforward,andsecuredthesimpleclaspatthebackofmyneck.Shesteppedbackthenasiftoseethatallwaswell.Ilookeddownattheshinypieceofglassandthetarnishedgoldenchain,thenbackatthegiver.ImeantitwhenIwhispered,"Oh,Maria,itissobeautiful.Shewouldhavelovedit."Neitherofuscouldstopthetears.Shestumbledintomyarmsandwewepttogether.AndforthatbriefmomentIbecamehermother,forshehadgivenmethegreatestgiftofall:herself.模板,内容仅供参考
