2021年1月23日发(作者：waste)
Unit 5 The Day Mother Cried

Gerald Moore
A 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. 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 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.
She
took
a
long
breath
and
managed
a
weak
smile.

nothing,
really.
Nothing
important. Just than I'm going to lose this new job. I can't type fast enough.





line she had spoken to me a hundred times when I was having trouble learning or doing
something important to me.





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 could 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 for 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 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
already
——
farming 80 acres in addition to holding a fulltime job.




A few months after we'd sold the motel, 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
精选






day
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 impressed. 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.





she'd appreciate it if we all helped out a bit more.










know
you do,
Dad
said evenly.

you 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 the pressures on her. Sitting beside her on the couch, I
began very slowly to understand.





the
tension
of
holding
back
the
strong
emotions
that
were
interrupted
by
my
arrival.
Suddenly, something inside me 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 understood 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 selling dry goods at half the salary the radio station
had offered.
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 there 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
精选