妈妈的双手_参考网

妈妈的双手

2016-11-30LouisaGodissartMcQuillen,箐舞

疯狂英语·初中天地 2016年5期

关键词：负罪感污渍前额

妈妈的双手

母亲的心是一个深渊，在它的最深处你总会得到宽恕。

—奥诺雷·德·巴尔扎克（法国作家）

Track 9

by Louisa Godissart McQuillen

翻译：箐舞

文字难度·

Night after night， she came to1）tuck me in， even long after my childhood years. Following her2）longstanding custom， she’d3）lean down and push my long hair out of the way， then kiss my forehead.

I don’t remember when it first started annoying me—her hands pushing my hair that way. But it did annoy me， for they felt work-4）worn and rough against my young skin. Finally， one night，I shouted out at her， “Don’t do that anymore—your hands are too rough！” She didn’t say anything. But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of love.

Time after time， with the passing years， my thoughts returned to that night. I missed my mother’s hands， missed her goodnight kiss on my forehead. Sometimes the5）incident seemed very close， sometimes far away. But always it6）lurked in the back of my mind.

Well， the years have passed， and I’m not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid-seventies， and those hands I once thought to be so rough are still doing things for me and my family. She’s been our family doctor； she cooks the best fried chicken in the world； she can get7）stains out of blue jeans...

Now， my own children are grown and gone. Mom no longer has Dad， and on special8）occasions I would spend the night with her. It was late on Thanksgiving Eve， as I slept in the bedroom of my youth，a familiar hand9）hesitantly run across my face to brush the hair from my forehead. Then a kiss，10）ever so11）gently， touched my brow.

In my memory， for tens of thousands of times， I recalled the night my young voice complained， “Don’t do that anymore—your hands are too rough！” Catching Mom’s hand， I12）blurted out how sorry I was for that night. I thought she’d remember， as I did. But Mom didn’t know what I was talking about. She had forgotten—and forgiven—long ago.

That night， I fell asleep with a new13）appreciation for my gentle mother and her14）caring hands. And the15）guilt that I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found.

参考译文

夜复一夜，妈妈总是过来帮我盖被子，即便我早已不是小孩子了。这是妈妈长久以来的习惯—俯下身，拨开我脸上的长发，然后亲吻我的前额。

记不清是从什么时候开始，我对她拨开我头发的这个行为感到很不耐烦。但的确，我讨厌她用那双长期操劳的、粗糙的手触碰我娇嫩的皮肤。终于，在一个夜晚，我冲她大喊：“不要再这样做了，你的手太粗糙了！”她什么也没说，却再也没有用这种我熟悉的爱意表达方式为我的一天画上句号。

这些年来，我总是一次又一次地回想起那个夜晚。我想念妈妈的双手，想念她印在我前额上的晚安吻。那个夜晚有时候似乎近在咫尺，有时候又似乎遥不可及，但它始终潜藏在我的脑海深处。

时光飞逝，我再也不是个小女孩了。妈妈如今已经大约七十五岁了，而那双我曾认为极其粗糙的手仍然在为我和我的家庭忙碌着。她一直是我们的家庭医生；她能做出世界上最美味的炸鸡；她能去除牛仔裤上的污渍……

如今，我自己的孩子也已经长大成人，离开了我的身边。妈妈不再有爸爸的陪伴，所以在某些特殊的情况下，我会花一整晚的时间陪伴在她左右。在感恩节前夕的深夜，当我在儿时的卧室里睡着时，一只熟悉的手迟疑地抚过我的脸庞，拨开了我前额的头发，然后一个极其轻柔的吻印在了我的眉毛上。

在我的记忆里，曾成千上万次地再现那晚我稚嫩的抱怨声：“不要再这样做了，你的手太粗糙了！”我一把抓住妈妈的手，一股脑地说出我对那晚的愧疚。我以为她和我一样都记得那晚的事儿，但妈妈不明白我在说什么。她已经忘记了—原谅我了—在很久以前。

那天晚上，我带着对妈妈的新认识—她的温柔以及她那双对我呵护备至的手—安然入睡。而长久以来压在我心头的负罪感也随之烟消云散。