Bucketful of Memories

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My father has a lot of sayings but there is one that keeps running through my mind： “Time can heal all wounds.

It was eight months ago when he told me the news.

I was struggling with a math problem when my dad knocked quietly on my door. “I received a letter，” he said， taking a deep breath. “You remember I was in the Army when you were really young， right？

Of course， I remembered. I was six when my father joined the army.

“They say I have to go back.” He saw my expression and quickly added， “But only for a little while. You are very grown up now， I can tell. Thanks for being so mature and taking me so well. It makes it easier for me， too.”

He left my room and soon， after the most painful good-bye of my life， he was gone.

Four months later， my mother received a letter， a letter that changed my life forever. She read it over and over， not believing what it said. When she told me， I didn’t believe it either. That night， I cried until my chest ached. My father had been killed in a car bombing. I kept thinking that this never would have happened if he hadn’t been called back.

The tide continued rising and the first wave hit my feet. I barely noticed the freezing cold water. I kept thinking that he had had only two months left over there and then he would have been home with us. It wasn’t fair. I looked down at a seashell that brought back a lot of memories， memories of him and me at this very spot.

“Close your eyes and say what’s troubling you，” he told me. I did as he said， then threw the shell as far into the ocean as I could. I counted the ripples as they formed.

“There ， now that trouble will be gone for good.

“My grandfather told my father this secret and my father passed it down to me. Now you can pass it to your children. Whenever， you want to forget something， a memory that is just too painful， throw a seashell and your memory will be lost in the ocean.”

Remembering this， I sprang up， grabbed the seashell， and pulled my arm back to throw it----then stopped. I couldn’t throw away memories of my dad. I closed my eyes and thought about the times when my dad and I came here.

I decided then that whenever I felt lonely or depressed， I would go to the beach， but instead of throwing seashells， I would collect them. I would collect the memories and store them in my mind so they would never be lost.

This is my favorite place， on the beach， with the setting sun， with the people I love， and a bucketful of memories.

译文：海边的记忆

爸爸给了我很多教诲，而有一句总在我脑海萦绕：“时间可以让一切伤口愈合。”

那是八个月前的一天，他跟我说了这个消息。

当时我正在为解一道数学题绞尽脑汁，爸爸轻敲了我的房门。“我收到一封信”，他深深地吸了口气说道，“我在军队服役时你还很小，记得吗？”

我当然记得。爸爸去服役那年，我六岁。

“他们说我得回部队”，看到我的表情时，他赶快补充说道，“不会去很长时间的，你长大了，成熟多了，能承受这一切。”

他走出我的房间。很快，在那最痛苦的道别之后，他走了。

四个月后，妈妈收到一封信――一封永远改变了我的命运的信。她不敢相信自己的眼睛。我也不信那会是事实。那一夜，我哭了很久，哭到胸口发痛。信上说，我爸爸和另外三名士兵在一次汽车爆炸中丧生。我一直在想着，要是当初他没有被召回，这一切就不会发生了。

潮水继续上涌，第一个浪打到我的脚上，而我并没有感觉到那冰冷的海水。我痴痴地想着，还有两个月，爸爸就能回家和我们在一起了。老天真是太不公平了。我低下头，看到一个海贝，它令我想起许多往事，那些我与爸爸在这海边的往事。

“闭上你的眼睛并说出你的烦恼，”他对我说。我照他说的做了。他又说，“把海贝扔向大海，越远越好。”海贝飞出去，我数着激起的波纹。想到这，我奋起身抓起海贝，扬起手――但我的手停住了，我不能把对爸爸的记忆扔掉。我闭上眼，回想着我与爸爸来这儿的时光。

从那时起，我决定当我孤独或是沮丧时，我就要走到海边――不是去丢海贝，而是去捡拾它们。我要收集它们，把它们储存在脑海，这样，它们将永远不会丢失了。

夕阳映照下的沙滩，是我喜欢的地方，晚霞里有我所爱的人和海边的记忆。