“等你有了自己的孩子，就会懂得牺牲。”在我成长的过程中，您一直这样跟我说。在您看来，牺牲是为人父母的一个必备的美德，是必须接受的一部分。但是，在那时，这一观点我是不认同的。我认为，牺牲精神并不是必需的，也不是时尚的，毫无吸引力可言。
可是，妈妈，我能说些什么呢？此刻我正学习着这一切。
最近，我已经开始将“为人之母”作为是“真正生活”的开始了。我想，在嘉娜出生前，我并没有意识到我先前的生活——相对来说，是自由的、轻松的、丰富多彩的——无论是在过去还是在现在，都不是大多数人们所过的生活。当我成为一位母亲的时候，我似乎在无意识中加入到了一个由无常和弱点、限制和困难组成的大环境中，有时，这其中还有不可解决的难题。当然，这个大环境也自有它的乐趣。
当嘉娜从午睡中醒来，很开心地看着我，向我露出灿烂的笑容时，我也会朝她微笑，又似乎看到了以前我清晨醒来时您对我的微笑。 而且，当嘉娜有什么特别可爱的举动时，我就会看一眼加利，和他交换一下眼色。这让我想起了您和坐在餐桌对面的爸爸那会心的相视。直到现在，我才明白其中饱含的深厚情感。
当我把嘉娜拥在身边时，低头看见我的手紧紧地揽在她的胸前，或是在她睡觉时，我用毯子裹在她的身上，轻轻抚摸她的脸颊时，我看到了您的双手（那双不辞辛劳的双手，长着光滑的椭圆形指甲，它们坚定有力、体贴能干）也做着同样的事情。之后，似乎有某种爱和安全感顺着您的双手传达给我，此刻归我所有，我也将这份爱传给嘉娜。
还有一天，嘉娜在我的臂弯里睡着了。我目不转睛地足足盯着她看了15~20分钟，为她那μ黄色的头发、柔滑的皮肤惊叹不止，她那完美的小红嘴，在睡梦中偶尔动来动去。我感到一股激动之情掠过全身，那是爱与赞叹、关心与幸运，以及更多的情感复杂地交织在一起。我突然想起去年夏天回家看望您和父亲时，您脸上的神情，那时嘉娜还刚出生不久。
那是一个阳光明媚的清晨，阴凉处凉爽宜人，空气里弥漫着来自您的玫瑰园的芳香。我们坐在后院的秋千上，我怀抱着嘉娜，似乎她很喜欢秋千晃动的感觉。
可是，我对一切都提不起兴趣。昨天夜里我累得要死。嘉娜才六个星期大，睡几个小时就要哭闹一次。作为一个初为人母的妈妈，我只能又烦躁又紧张，喂过奶后也很难入睡。我又累又烦躁，对做妈妈这事一点儿也高兴不起来。
我们坐在秋千上聊着——或者更确切地说，我说着话，向您释放自己的焦虑和挫败感。突然间，您伸手抚摸了我的头发。
“真美。”您说，在您脸上浮现出一丝特别的表情。“太阳刚好照在上面先前我从没有注意到你有这样一头红得发亮的头发。”
有些尴尬又思考着其他问题的我，对您的评价只是耸耸肩了事。我不知道自己都说了些什么，不过毫无疑问的是，都是些简洁却不屑的话，同时回绝了您的赞美。但是，您的话影响了我。真的好久没有人看到我身上的美丽了，所以我很高兴。
很长时间之后我才意识到，那天您看我的神情，正是我几乎每天看嘉娜的眼神。这让我情不自禁地想到：您现在还可能从我身上看到我在嘉娜身上发现的奇迹吗？在自己的孩子长大成人、离家出去闯荡、为人父母后，这种神奇的力量还会延续吗？等嘉娜长到30岁后，我还会像现在一样感觉到对她涌动的爱意吗？
想到这种爱，几乎会令人心痛。它太脆弱、太容易被伤害了。多年的相处中，孩子与父母之间会产生斗争、摩擦和误解，会每日发生冲突和争斗，孩子会不可避免地脱离家庭，最终获得独立，这一切的一切我都太了解了。想到有一天，嘉娜会长大成人，会回绝我试探性的爱的表白，一如我不屑地回绝您一样，我的心就会痛。
起初的那股强烈的爱的冲动是怎么了？是被遗失在走过的路上吗？还是被埋藏在抚养孩子长大的日常生活中？或者，它们还在一路与我们同行，只是当女儿有了自己的孩子，母亲伸手抚摸女儿的头发时，这种感觉才被发现、被表达出来。
在我看来，这是一个真正的奇迹：母亲关爱孩子的方式被再次发现，被重复，被一次又一次地传递下去，就像爱在我们的生活中由您传递给我，由我传递给嘉娜，或许还会由嘉娜传递给她自己的孩子。因为它本身就是一种馈赠。
我想，我一直想要说的就是：妈妈，谢谢您。
母亲教会了我
Things My Mother Taught Me
瓦蕾丽·斯马特 / Valerie Smart
When I was a child, my mother taught me to smile and to be polite. She taught me not to talk too loud or laugh too hard, and to always have a breath mint in my pocket. She taught me to brush my hair before I went next door to play, to wear a pretty nightgown to the sleepover, and to wear a flowered dress to the science fair, because that' s what "others" thought was appropriate. She also taught me to listen more than I talk, which I have always had trouble doing.
From my mother I learned, as a child, to place matching hand towels in the bathroom when company visits and to cash in a savings bond if that' s what it takes to feed your guests. I learned that to prevent family feuds, you walked on eggshells all day on Christmas and Thanksgiving, and had the in-laws over for breakfast, the other side of the family over for lunch，and all of your teenagers' friends over for dessert. As I grew up, my mother grew wiser. By the time I was an adult, I' d learned that when I was a child, my mother hadn' t said no to other people as often as she should have.
While I' ll always be heartbroken that she became a widow at the young age of forty-six. I' ll always be grateful that I came to know my mother as an independent woman afterward. I watched her shed the stereotypes of a woman raised in the 1950s, and I now relish the fact that sometimes she, too, has ice cream for dinner.
From my mother I learned, as an adult, to give yourself what you want, because no one else may ever do it. I learned to laugh and laugh and laugh, because life is too difficult when you don' t. I learned that if you dislike your in-laws or other family members or anyone else, you don' t have to fake it, because life is too short to put on appearances and to worry about what others might think.
I learned that it' s okay not to make the bed, not to iron your jeans, and to leave a pile of dishes in the sink, as long as you take time to sit on the kitchen floor and make Play-Doh snakes with your child. I learned that it' s perfectly acceptable to serve your guests a bag of chips and iced tea, if that' s all you have in the house.
My mother taught me, as an adult, that when a bill comes in the mail, to rip off the return stub, tuck it into the mailing envelope, and put a stamp on it right away. She taught me never to leave a load of wet laundry in the washing machine overnight in humid weather, because when you dry the clothes the next day, they' ll smell like a mildewed shower curtain. She taught me how to make potato salad, manicotti, and Rice Krispies treats. She taught me how to shop on sale，and that you don' t have to paint your face or dye your hair to be a beautiful woman at any age.
My mother taught me the Serenity Prayer. She taught me to listen to my inner voice. She taught me that, although she raised me in an organized religion, if I don' t want to raise my children the same way, that' s just fine. She taught me that when people disagree and argue, it doesn' t mean they don' t care about each other; it' s when you stop caring and talking, even if those emotions and words hurt, that you' re in trouble. My mother also taught me that people do to you only what you allow them to. These are the lessons that have shaped my life. Although a few might seem passe or even silly with the passage of time and the wheels of change, most are timeless and universal. I now realize that all of her lessons came from her heart and were meant to guide and protect me.
