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1、Unit 5 The Day Mother CriedGerald MooreA mother and her son learn more form a moment of defeat than they ever could from a victory. Her example of never giving up gives him courage for the rest of his life.Coming home from school that dark winter's day so long ago, I was filled with anticipation
2、. I had a new issue of my favorite sports magazine tucked under my arm, and the house to myself. Dad was at work, my sister was away, and Mother wouldn't be home from her new job for an hour. I bounded up the steps, burst into the living room and flipped on a light. I was shocked into stillness
3、by what I saw. Mother, pulled into a tight ball with her face in her hands, sat at the far end of the couch. She was crying. I had never seen her cry.I approached cautiously and touched her shoulder. "Mother?" I said "What's happened?"She took a long breath and managed a weak
4、 smile. "It's nothing, really. Nothing important. Just than I'm going to lose this new job. I can't type fast enough." "But you've only been there three days," I said. "You'll catch on." I was repeating a line she had spoken to me a hundred times whe
5、n I was having trouble learning or doing something important to me. "No." she said sadly. "I always said I could do anything I set my mind to, and I still think I can in most things. But I can't do this." I felt helpless and out of place. At age 16 I still assumed Mother coul
6、d do anything. Some years before, when we sold our ranch and moved to town, Mother had decided to open a day nursery. She had had no training, but that didn't stand in her way. She sent away for correspondence courses in child care, did the lessons and in six months formally qualified herself fo
7、r the task. It wasn't long before she had a full enrollment and a waiting list. I accepted all this as a perfectly normal instance of Mother's ability. But neither the nursery nor the motel my parents bought later had provided enough income to send my sister and me to college. In two years I
8、 would be ready for college. In three more my sister would want to go. Time was running out, and Mother was frantic for ways to save money. It was clear that Dad could do no more than he was doing alreadyfarming 80 acres in addition to holding a fulltime job. A few months after we'd sold the mot
9、el, Mother arrived home with a use typewriter. It skipped between certain letters and the keyboard was soft. At dinner that night I pronounced the machine a "piece of junk." "That's all we can afford," mother said. "It's good enough to learn on." And from that d
10、ay on, as soon as the table was cleared and the dishes were done, Mother would disappear into her sewing room to practice. The slow tap, tap, tap went on some nights until midnight. It was nearly Christmas when I heard Mother got a job at the radio station. I was not the least bit surprised, or impr
11、essed. But she was ecstatic. Monday, after her first day at work, I could see that the excitement was gone. Mother looked tired and drawn. I responded by ignoring her. Tuesday, Dad made dinner and cleaned the kitchen. Mother stayed in her sewing room, practicing. "Is Mother all right?" I a
12、sked Dad. "She's having a little trouble with her typing," he said. "She needs to practice. I think she'd appreciate it if we all helped out a bit more." "I already do a lot," I said, immediately on guard. "I know you do," Dad said evenly. "And yo
13、u may have to do more. You might just remember that she is working primarily so you can go to college." I honestly didn't care. I wished she would just forget the whole thing. My shock and embarrassment at finding Mother in tears on Wednesday was a perfect index of how little I understood t
14、he pressures on her. Sitting beside her on the couch, I began very slowly to understand. "I guess we al have to fail sometime," Mother said quietly. I could sense her pain and the tension of holding back the strong emotions that were interrupted by my arrival. Suddenly, something inside me
15、 turned. I reached out and put my arms around her. She broke then. She put her face against my shoulder and sobbed. I help her close and didn't try to talk. I knew I was doing what I should, what I could, and that it was enough. In that moment, feeling Mother's back racked with emotion, I un
16、derstood for the first time her vulnerability. She was still my mother, but she was something more: a person like me, capable of fear and hurt and failure. I could feel her pain as she must have felt mine on a thousand occasions when I had sought comfort in her arms. A week later Mother took a job s
17、elling dry goods at half the salary the radio station had offered. "It's a job I can do," she said simply. But the evening practice sessions on the old green typewriter continued. I had a very different feeling now when I passed her door at night and heard her tapping away. I knew ther
18、e was something more going on in there than a woman learning to type. When I left for college two years later, Mother had an office job with better pay and more responsibility. I have to believe that in some strange way she learned as much from her moment of defeat as I did, because several years la
19、ter, when I had finished school and proudly accepted a job as a newspaper reporter, she had already been a journalist with our hometown paper for six months. The old green typewriter sits in my office now, unrepaired. It is a memento, but what it recalls for me is not quite what if recalled for Moth
20、er. When I'm having trouble with a story and think about giving up or when I start to feel sorry for myself and think things should be easier for me, I roll a piece of paper into that cranky old machine and type, word by painful word, just the way mother did. What I remember then is not her fail
21、ure, but her courage, the courage to go ahead. It's the best memento anyone ever gave me.媽媽哭泣的那一天 很久以前一個昏暗的冬日,我放學(xué)回家時從滿了期望。我胳膊下夾著一期新的我喜歡的體育雜志,房子里將會是就我一個人。爸爸上班,妹妹不在家,媽媽找了份工作,一小時內(nèi)不會回家。我蹦上臺階,沖進起居室,啪地開了燈。 眼前的景象把我驚呆了:媽媽身子緊縮成一團,臉埋在手里,坐在沙發(fā)上的另一端。她在哭。我以前從沒有見過她哭,我小心翼翼地走近些,拍拍她的肩膀?!皨專俊蔽艺f:“怎么了?”她長舒一口氣,擠出一絲笑容。
22、“沒什么,真的,沒什么大不了的,只是我要失去這份新的工作,我打字不夠快!” “但你到那兒才三天,”我說,“你會跟上的?!蔽以僦貜?fù)媽媽對我說過上百次的一句話。每當我學(xué)習(xí)上或做一些對我很重要的事情遇到麻煩時,她就這樣說。 “不行”她難過地說?!斑^去我總說我能做到我決心做到的一切事情,現(xiàn)在我仍然認為在多數(shù)事情上我能做到,但這次我不行?!?我無能力,不知所措。16歲的我還認為媽媽無所不能。幾年前,我們賣掉牧場搬進城時媽媽決定開家日托所。她以前沒有受過這方面的訓(xùn)練,但這沒有難住她。她參加幼托所函授學(xué)習(xí),做練習(xí)。六個月后正式獲得了幼托所看護資格,不久托兒所就招生滿額,而且還有孩子等著入托,我認為媽媽理所當
23、然有能力做到這個。 但是日托所和父母后來買的汽車旅館都不能提供足夠的錢供妹妹和我上大學(xué)。兩年后我該上大學(xué)了,再過三年妹妹也要上學(xué)了。時間不多了,媽媽拼命想掙錢。很清楚,爸爸已經(jīng)盡了最大努力-出了一份全日工作外,還種著80英畝地。 在賣掉汽車旅館的幾個月后,媽媽帶了一臺舊打字機回家,這臺打字機有時要跳字,鍵盤也很松。那天晚飯時,我說這臺機器就是“廢品一件” “我們只能買得起這個”媽媽說,“用著聯(lián)系夠了”從那天起,飯桌一收拾干凈,碟子洗完,媽媽就鉆進她的縫紉間練習(xí),有幾晚那緩慢的嗒,嗒,嗒的聲音一直持續(xù)到午夜。 就快圣誕了,我聽到媽媽在廣播站找到了份工作,我一點也不吃驚,也沒怎么當回事。但她非常高興。 星期一,她第一天下班回來,我就發(fā)現(xiàn)她不再激動,她看上去很困,臉繃著,我沒理會她。 星期二,爸爸做了晚飯,收拾了廚房,媽媽呆在她的縫紉間練習(xí)?!皨寢寷]事吧?”我問爸爸。 “她打字遇到了些麻煩,”他說“她需要練習(xí),我想如果我們多幫她一點,她會感激的。” “我已經(jīng)做了很多了,”我說,我立刻戒備了起來。 “我知道
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