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孤單。我希望能有人陪我玩。
突然,我看到了我要的人——我的祖父,他下班回來了。“爺爺!”我歡快地喊著,“快來推我一把!”
他的臉突然間變得煞白,我從沒見過他那種表情,“你不該出來玩。”他粗聲地對我說,好像我做了不該做的事。
“但是,”我想告訴他我只是做了大人告訴我的事情而已。“快下雨了。”他突然說。我抬頭困惑地看著晴朗的藍天,一點兒雲彩也沒有。
“跟我走!”他的聲音中透著一絲絕望。
當我們一起上樓梯時,他抓著我的手,緊緊地抓著,好像需要什麼東西支撐似的。我似乎被某種預兆緊緊地抓著。後來,我才意識到,那一刻,代表了我童年的終結。
What were you like as a child? Serious; responsible? Happy…go…lucky? Sweet…natured? Hyperactive? A playground bully? Or a timid creature clinging to your mother’s skirt?
I spent my childhood as a fly on the wall: looking; listening; taking in impressions of the world around me。 Some were awesome; reassuring: warmth and kindness; glimpses of pure joy; others worrying; confounding: falsehood and pretensions; spite; aggression and scorn。
Uncertain what to make of it all; I kept my observations and reflections strictly to myself。
Today I’m still the same fly on the wall; though somewhat less bemused; having taken on board some vital lessons of sympathy and passion; tolerance and forgiveness。
Also; over the years I have acquired enough confidence to articulate my thoughts and; at length; summoned the courage to share them this way。
We’re tempted to change as we grow older; in response to adult pressures: roles we are expected to perform; personally; professionally; standards set by our contemporaries; not forgetting the natural urge to develop and mature。
But our basic disposition remains the same。 And rather than distance ourselves from what we were as children; we should take good care of our original equipment。
As long as it’s put to good use; there will always be room for it in the adult world。
Early memories can be deceptive; in that they are usually quite appealing。 As if; in the whole range of emotions experie