第7章 The Most Important Part of My Busy Day

"Mommy,look!"cried my daughter,Darla,pointing to a hawk soaring through the air.

"Uh huh,"I murmured,driving,lost in thought about the tight schedule of my day.

Disappointment filled her face."What's the matter,sweetheart?"I asked.

"Nothing,"my seven-year-old said.The moment was gone.Near home,we slowed to search for the albino deer that came out from behind the thick mass of trees in the early evening.She was nowhere to be seen.

Dinner,baths and phone calls filled the hours until bedtime.

"Come on,Darla,time for bed!"She raced past me up the stairs.Tired,I kissed her on the cheek,said prayers and tucked her in.

"Mom,I forgot to give you something!"she said.

My patience was gone."Give it to me in the morning,"I said,but she shook her head.

"You won't have time in the morning!"she retorted.

"I'll take time,"I answered.Sometimes no matter how hard I tried,time flowed through my fingers like sand in an hourglass,never enough.Not enough for her,for my husband,and definitely not enough for me.

She wasn't ready to give up yet.She wrinkled her little nose in anger and tossed away her chestnut brown hair.

"No,you won't!It will be just like today when I told you to look at the hawk.You didn't even listen to what I said."

I was too tired to argue."Good night!"I shut her door with a resounding thud.

My husband asked,"Why so glum?"I told him.

"Maybe she's not asleep yet.Why don't you check?"he said.

I opened her door,and the moonlight from the window spilled over her sleeping form.In her hand I could see the remains of a crumpled paper.Slowly,I opened her palm to see what the item of our disagreement had been.

Tears filled my eyes.She had torn into small pieces a big red heart with a poem she had written,"Why I Love My Mother?"

I carefully removed the pieces.Once the puzzle was put back into place,I read what she had written:

"Why I Love My Mother?Although you're busy,and you work so hard,you always take time to play with me.I love you Mommy,because I am the biggest part of your busy day!"

The words were an arrow straight to the heart.

Ten minutes later I carried a tray to her room,with two cups of hot chocolate and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.When I softly touched her smooth cheek,I could feel my heart filled with love.

She woke from the sleep."What is that for?"she asked.

"This is for you,because you are the most important part of my busy day!"

She cracked a sweet smile.

一天中最重要的部分

“妈咪，快看！”女儿达拉指着一只在空中翱翔的鹰喊道。

“嗯，呃。”我一边开车，一边咕哝道，想着排得满满的日程。

她一脸失望。“怎么了，宝贝？”我问。

“没什么。”7岁的女儿说。那个时刻转瞬即逝。快到家时，我们放慢速度寻找那只患白化病的鹿。傍晚时分，它会从茂密的树丛后面走出来。但是今天哪里都不见它的踪影。

晚饭、沐浴和电话占满了就寝前的所有时间。

“快点，达拉，该睡觉了！”她跑过我，上了楼梯。我疲惫不堪，吻了吻她的脸颊，祈祷，给她掖好被子。

“妈妈，我忘记给你一件东西！”她说。

我没有了耐心。“明天早上给我吧。”我说，但她摇了摇头。

“明天早上你不会有时间！”她反驳。

“我会抽时间。”我回答。有时无论我如何努力，时间还是像沙漏中的沙粒一样从指间流过，总是不够用，不够用来陪她，不够用来陪丈夫，当然对自己也不够用。

她还不准备放弃。她气呼呼地皱起小鼻子，把红棕色的头发甩到了一边。

“不，你不会！就像今天我让你看那只鹰时一样，你连我说什么都不听。”

我太累了，不想辩解。“晚安！”我砰的一声关上她的房门。

我的丈夫问道：“为什么闷闷不乐？”我告诉了他。

“可能她还没睡着，你为什么不去看看呢？”他说。

我打开她的门，窗外的月光洒在她熟睡的身上。我可以看到她手里有一些揉皱的纸片。我慢慢地掰开她的手掌，想看看我们的分歧到底是什么。

泪水溢满了我的眼眶。她撕成碎片的原是一颗大大的红心，上面是她写的一首诗：“为什么我爱我的妈妈？”

我仔细移动那些纸片。纸片一拼回原样，我就读出了她写的那首诗：

“为什么我爱我的妈妈？尽管你很忙，工作很辛苦，但你总是抽时间陪我玩。我爱你妈咪，因为我是你忙忙碌碌一天中最重要的部分！”

这些话像箭一样直射我的心脏。

十分钟后，我端着一只托盘来到她的房间，托盘上放着两杯热巧克力饮料和两块花生酱果冻三明治。我温柔地抚摸着她光洁的脸蛋，能感觉到自己心里充满了浓浓爱意。

她从睡梦中醒来。“这是干什么？”她问。

“这是送给你的，因为你是我忙忙碌碌一天中最重要的部分！”

她露出了甜蜜的微笑。