And she whispered； “Mommy； that’s okay。。。 I still love you any way．” I hugged her and said． “I love you too。。。 And I love my flowers； especially the blue．”
Are you aware that：If you die tomorrow； the pany that you are working for could easily replace you in a matter of days。 But the family you leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives。 And e to think of it； we pour ourselves more into our work than into our families—an unwise investment indeed。
。 想看书来
金秋时节（1）
佚名
我突然想起了自己的小女儿，现在她在阿姆斯特丹生活。她一会儿就会打电话过来问：“你种上洋葱了吗？”然后，我就会跟她开玩笑说，事实上，我正等她回来帮我呢。这样，我俩便双双陷入回忆之中，因为，我们曾经总在整个金秋时节的午后，一起种洋葱，当她还只有三岁半时，就满怀孩童的热情和欢欣来帮我了。
那天午后，她最后一次陪在我身边，因为她已经准备上学了。她拿着小桶和铁锨无忧无虑、满心欢喜地走来走去，用土盖洋葱时喊着：“晚安”或者“睡觉觉”，稚嫩的声音叽叽喳喳地说个不停。她发现了“洋葱宝宝”“小洋葱”和“洋葱爸妈”——后者总是偎依在一起。当我们非常卖力地干活时，我刻意去观察自己的孩子，她如此娇小，刚学会走路，挺着一个小圆肚子晃晃悠悠的。
每年秋天我们都会一起种洋葱，在她的童年中无一例外。我每年秋天都能看到她的变化，从蹒跚学步的孩童变成一个女学生，坦率而现实，活力四射。她从不两手插兜地展开幻想，也不再满心欢喜地纵容自己沉湎于幻想。女学生双腿修长了，下巴的线条也改变了，她还剪短了头发。又一个金秋时节，我想，“再见了，玫瑰；再见了，蝴蝶；再见了，女学生。”我一边听她讲故事，一边用力挖土，播种春天的希望。
突然之间，这比我想象的要快很多，我的身边站着一位高挑的少女，她已经长得比我还高了。以往见面的仪式被沉默所取代，我们不再海阔天空地交谈。我想起她的房间满是海报和小装饰品：装满白色卵石、一枚铜制胸针、彩色图画等“宝物”的瓶子，在对钱财一无所知的孩子们看来，这些如此珍贵：她还曾想让大人大声给她念故事书，曾焦急地看着自己房间的蜘蛛问：“它想跟我做朋友吗？”
终于，那个秋天到了，我必须独自栽种洋葱了，我知道从那时起，将不会再有人陪我。但是每年秋季，女儿都会说起种洋葱，言语中流露出怀旧之情，怀念无邪的童年、仙境般的花园以及夏季的最后时光。我们都如此深深地渴望拥有一部时光机器，回到过去，即使仅有一天时间。
母亲对女儿的爱是无限的，每一个瞬间对她来说都是一种幸福、一种震动，哪怕只是有关“洋葱”的这些小事，也能让母亲记忆犹新，回味悠长。
Altogether Autumn
Anonymous
Suddenly I think of my youngest daughter； living now in Amsterdam。 Very soon she will call and ask； “Have you planted the bulbs yet？” Then I will answer teasingly that actually I’m waiting until she es to help me。 And then we will both be overe by nostalgia1； because once we always did that together。 One entire sunny autumn afternoon； when she was just over three and a half years old； she helped me with all the enthusiasm and joyfulness of her age。
It was one of the last afteruoons I had her around because her place in school had already been reserved。 She wandered around so happily carefree2 with her little bucket and spade； covering the bulbs with earth and calling out“Night night” or “Sleep tight”； her little voice chattering constantly on。 She discovered “baby bulbs”and” kiddie bulbs” and “mummy and daddy bulbs”—the latter snuggling3 cozily4 together。 While we were both working so industriously； I watched my child very deliberately。 She was such a tiny thing； between an infant and a toddler； with such a round little tummy。 。 想看书来
金秋时节（2）
Every autumn； throughout her childhood； we repeated the ritual of planting the bulbs together。 And every autumn I saw her changing； the toddler became a schoolgirl； a straightforward realist； full of drive。 Never once dreamy； her hands in her pockets； no longer happily indulging her fantasies5。 The school girl developedlong legs； her jawine changed； she had her hair cut。 It was autumn again and I thought “Bye roses； bye butterflies；bye schoolgirl。” I listened to her stories while we painstakingly burrowed in the earth； planting the promise of spring。
Suddenly； much quicker than I had expected； a tall teenager was standing by my side： she had grown taller than I。 The ritual became rather silent； we no longer chattered away from one subject to another。 I thought about her room full of posters and knick…knacks； how it had been full of treasures in bottles and boxes； white pebbles； a copper brooch； colored drawings； the treasures of a child who still knew nothing of money； who wanted to be read aloud to and who looked anxiously at a spider6 in herroom and asked； “Would he want to be my friend？”
Then came the autumn when I planted the bulbs alone； and knew that from then on it would always be that way。 But every year； in autumn； she talks about it。 Full of nostalgia for the security of childhood； the seclusion of a garden； the final moments of a season。 How both of us would dearly love to have a time machine。 To go back。 Just for a day。
。。
祖母的瓷器（1）
克里斯蒂娜·朗德奎斯特
1949年，父母带着我们3个年幼的孩子，从伊利诺伊州的罗克福德搬到了很远的加州南部。母亲把许多珍贵的传家之物小心翼翼地包裹起来，其中包括祖母留下来的4箱手绘瓷器餐具。祖母选用了“勿忘我”的图案，并亲手绘制在了这些瓷器上。
遗憾的是，在搬家的时候发生了一些意外，其中一箱瓷器没能运到新家，此后也没有再找到。因此，母亲失去了那些茶杯、茶托和碗，只剩下3箱大小不一的盘子和一些其他小餐具。在家庭聚会、感恩节或圣诞节大餐时，母亲就会怀念起丢失的瓷器，并说她是多么希望那箱瓷器能够在搬运时平安到达。
1983年，母亲去世了，我继承了祖母的瓷器。就像母亲一样，我会在许多特别的场合拿出来使用，并一直想搞清楚，那箱丢失的瓷器到底发生了什么事情。
我非常喜欢到古董店和跳蚤市场去搜寻宝贝。清晨，去走道里转转，看着小贩们把瓷器摆出来，那真是一种很大的乐趣。
我已经一年多没去逛跳蚤市场了，1993年的星期天，我忽然想去转转。早上5点，我从床上爬了起来，在黎明之前，摸着黑开了一个小时的车，到了位于帕萨迪纳的非常大的“玫瑰碗”跳蚤市场。在市场的走道里，我转了几个小时，然后打算离去，在转过最后的一个拐角往前走了几步后，我注意到了碎石路上摆着的几件瓷器。那些是手绘的瓷器，画着“勿忘我”的图案。于是，我跑上前去，拿起一个茶杯和一个茶托，放在眼前仔细看，那真的是“勿忘我”！精致的手法，还有描绘的金边，与祖母的瓷器一模一样。我又看了看其他瓷器，有茶杯、茶托，还有碗！这就是祖母的瓷器呀！
我的兴奋之情引起了卖主的注意，她走了过来，我把丢失的那箱瓷器的故事讲给她听。卖主说，她在帕萨迪纳购买了一处房产，就是在那里发现了这箱瓷器。帕萨迪纳是与阿卡迪亚相邻的一个小镇，我小时候就住在阿卡迪亚镇。卖主说，她在清理物品时，在花园的一个小屋里发现了这个密封的旧箱子，里面就装着这些瓷器。她向那处房产的继承人询问了此事，他们说那个箱子一直就在小屋里放着，并不知道那个箱子里装了什么、从何而来以及它的主人是谁。
带着这些令人惊异的宝贝，我离开了“玫瑰碗”跳蚤市场。6年后的今天，我对此事仍然感到惊奇，觉得这就是“一切机缘的巧合”才使我找回了丢失的瓷器。如果我那天赖床睡到很晚；如果那天我没有去“玫瑰碗”市场；如果我没有路过那个拐角，而是离开那里找个地方休息，那事情又会是怎样呢？
上个星期，我邀请了15位朋友到家里参加聚会，并把祖母的瓷器拿出来使用。用完餐，我用失去很久的茶杯和茶托为大家送上咖啡时，心中燃起了一种自豪感。
一件很普通的瓷器被赋予了爱之后，它的意义也就不再寻常。它承载着亲人的思念、祝福和惜爱，是主人公的精神寄托，见其物，如见赠物之人。你是否也珍藏着这样一件物品？抑或是你已将其遗忘……
Grandmother’s China
Kristine Lundquist
In 1949 my parents made the big move from Rockford； Illinois； to Southern California； along with three very tiny children and all their household possessions。 My mother had carefully wrapped and packed many precious family heirlooms； including four cartons of her mother’s hand…painted dinner china。 Grandmother had painted this lovely set herself； choosing a forget…me…not pattern。
Unfortunately； something happened during the move。 One box of the china didn’t make it。 It never arrived at our new house。 So my mother had only three…quarters of the set—she had plates of different sizes and some serving pieces； but missing were the cups and saucers and the bowls。 Often at family gatherings or when we would all sit down for a Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner； my mother would say something about the missing china and how she wished it had survived the trip。 。 想看书来
祖母的瓷器（2）
When my mother died in 1983； I inherited Grandmother’s china。 I； too； used the set on many special occasions； and I； too； wondered what had happened to the missing box。
I love to prowl antique shops and flea markets； hunting for treasures。 It’s great fun to walk up and down the aisles early in the morning； watching as the vendors spread their wares on the ground。
I hadn’t been to a flea market in over a year when； one Sunday in 1993； I got the itch to go。 So I crawled out of bed at 5 ； and after a couple of hours I was thinking about leaving。 I rounded the last corner and took a few steps down the row when I noticed some china strewn on the macadam。 I saw that it was hand…painted china。。。 with forget…me…nots！ I raced over to look at it more closely and gingerly picked up a cup and saucer。。。 forget…me…nots！ Exactly like Grandmother’s china； with the same delicate strokes and the same thin gold bands around the rims。 I looked at the rest of the items—there were the cups！ The saucers！ The bowls！ It was Grandmother’s china！
The dealer had noticed my excitement； and when she came over I told her the story of t