随着岁月的流逝,那架手风琴渐渐退至我生活的幕后。只有在家庭聚会上,爸爸还会让我拉上一曲。但是风琴课不再上了。我上大学时,那架手风琴放进厅里的壁橱,在爸爸的小提琴旁边。
A year after my graduation, my parents moved to a house in a nearby town. Dad, at 51, finally owned his own home. On moving day, I didn't have the heart to tell him that he could dispose of the accordion, so I brought it to my own home and put it in the attic.
大学毕业后一年,父母搬到附近城镇的一栋房子。爸爸在他五十一岁那年终于拥有了自己的家。搬家那天,我不忍 心告诉他,说他可以处理那架手风琴,于是我把它带回自己家,放在阁楼上。
There it remained, a dusty memory, until one afternoon several years later when my two children discovered it by accident. Scott thought it was a secret treasure; Holly thought a ghost lived inside. They were both right.
手风琴一直放在那里,成了尘封的记忆。直到几年后的一个下午,我的两个孩子偶然发现了它。斯科特认为这是一件秘密宝藏。霍莉则认为里面住着一个幽灵。他俩都对。
When I opened the case, they laughed and said, "Play it, play it." Reluctantly, I strapped on the accordion and played some simple songs. I was surprised my skills hadn't rusted away. Soon the kids were dancing in circles and giggling. Even my wife, Terri, was laughing and clapping to the beat. I was amazed at their unbridled glee.
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