The young woman went to the end of the porch, where an elderly patient was sitting in her wheelchair, alone, head bowed, her back to most of the others. Across the porch railing went the flowers, in to the lap of the old woman. She lifted her head, and smiled. For a few moments, the two women chatted, both aglow with happiness, and then the young woman turned and ran back to her family. As the car pulled away, the woman in the wheelchair waved, and clutched the lilacs.
"Mom," the kids asked, "who was that? Why did you give her our flowers? Is she somebody's mother?" The mother said she didn't know the old woman. But it was Mother's Day,and she seemed so alone,and who wouldn't be cheered by flowers? "Besides," she added,"I have all of you, and I still have my mother, even if she is far away. That woman needed those flowers more than I did."
This satisfied the kids, but not the husband. The next day he purchased half a dozen young lilacs bushes and planted them around their yard, and several times since then he has added more.
I was that man. The young mother was, and is, my wife. Now, every May, our own yard is redolent with lilacs. Every Mother's Day our kids gather purple bouquets. And every year I remember that smile on a lonely old woman's face, and the kindness that put the smile there.
一家人刚移居罗德岛。5月的那个星期天,年轻女人感到有点儿忧伤。毕竟,这一天是母亲节——而她却与俄亥俄州的父母亲遥距800英里。
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