我不禁加快了回家的脚步,搬出了好久不用的花盆,拨开湿润的泥土,闻到了一股久违的清香。看着手中的它,我心里充满问号:它是什么种子呢?会开出好看的花么?会结果吗?……眼前突然重现出多年前的场景,翻开妈妈的《女儿日记》,在扉页上写着几行娟秀的字:无论你是男孩还是女孩,妈妈都爱你;无论你的模样怎样,在妈妈眼中,你是最美的宝宝;无论你长大立下了什么志向,妈妈都会是你最坚定的支持者。也许母爱就是这样无私,充满温暖和阳光。它是每个人成长的春光,可母亲的青春也在儿女的成长中一点一点消逝。
I can't help but speed up the pace of going home, move out of the flower pot that hasn't been used for a long time, poke away the moist soil, and smell a long lost fragrance. Looking at it in my hand, I am filled with questions: what kind of seed is it? Do you have beautiful flowers? Will it work out Suddenly, the scene of many years ago reappears in front of you. Turn over my mother's daughter's diary and write a few lines on the title page: no matter you are a boy or a girl, my mother loves you; no matter how you look, in my mother's eyes, you are the most beautiful baby; no matter what ambition you have set up, my mother will be your most determined supporter. Maybe maternal love is so selfless, full of warmth and sunshine. It is the spring light of everyone's growth, but the mother's youth also disappears in the growth of children.
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