母亲的蒲公英
开篇：润墨网以专业的文秘视角，为您筛选了一篇母亲的蒲公英范文，如需获取更多写作素材，在线客服老师一对一协助。欢迎您的阅读与分享！
I grew up in a small town where the elementary school was a ten-minute walk from my house and in an age， not so long ago， when children could go home for lunch and find their mothers waiting. I only knew that when the noon bell rang， I would race breathlessly home. My mother would be standing at the top of the stairs， smiling down at me with a look that suggested I was the only important thing she had on her mind. For this， I am forever grateful.
One lunchtime when I was in the third grade will stay with me always. I had been picked to be the princess in the school play， and for weeks my mother had painstakingly rehearsed my lines with me. But no matter how easily I delivered them at home， as soon as I stepped onstage， every word disappeared from my head.
Finally， my teacher took me aside. She explained that she had written a narrator’s part to the play， and asked me to switch roles. Her word， kindly delivered， still stung， especially when I saw my part go to another girl. I didn’t tell my mother what had happened when I went home for lunch that day. But she sensed my unease， and instead of suggesting we practice my lines， she asked if I wanted to walk in the yard.
It was a lovely spring day and the rose vine on the trellis was turning green. Under the huge elm trees， we could see yellow dandelions popping through the grass in bunches， as if a painter had touched our landscape with dabs of gold. I watched my mother casually bend down by one of the clumps. “I think I’m going to dig up all these weeds，” she said， yanking a blossom up by its roots. “From now on， we’ll have only roses in this garden.”
“But I like dandelions，” I protested. “All flowers are beautiful―even dandelions.” My mother looked at me seriously. “Yes， every flower gives pleasure in its own way， doesn’t it？” She asked thoughtfully. I nodded. “And that is true of people too，” she added. “Not everyone can be a princess， but there is no shame in that.”
Relieved that she had guessed my pain， I started to cry as I told her what had happened. She listened and smiled reassuringly. “But you will be a beautiful narrator，” she said， reminding me of how much I loved to read stories aloud to her. “The narrator’s part is every bit as important as the part of a princess.”
Over the next few weeks， with her constant encouragement， I learned to take pride in the role. Lunchtimes were spent reading over my lines and talking about what I would wear.
Backstage the night of the performance， I felt nervous. A few minutes before the play， my teacher came over to me. “Your mother asked me to give this to you，” she said， handing me a dandelion. Its edges were already beginning to curl and it flopped lazily from its stem. But just looking at it， knowing my mother was out there and thinking of our lunchtime talk， made me proud.
After the play， I took home the flower I had stuffed in the apron of my costume. My mother pressed it between two sheets of paper toweling in a dictionary， laughing as she did it that we were perhaps the only people who would press such a sorry-looking weed.
我是在一个小镇上长大的，从镇上的小学到我家走路只需十分钟。在距今不算太久远的那个时代，小学生都可以回家吃午饭，而他们的母亲则会老早在家等候着。我只知道中午放学铃声一响，就一口气往家跑。母亲总是站在门前台阶的最高层，笑盈盈地望着我。那神情分明表示我是母亲心目中唯一重要的。为此，我一辈子都对母亲感激不尽。
我永远忘不了在我上三年级时的那一顿午饭。在那天之前，我被学校选中，要在一个即将演出的小剧中扮演公主的角色。一连好几个星期，母亲总是不辞辛劳地陪着我一起背诵台词。可是不管在家里背得怎么滚瓜烂熟，只要一上舞台，我的脑子里就成了一片空白。
终于，老师把我叫到了一边。她说剧中旁白的台词已写好了，想把我替换下来当旁白。尽管老师这些话说得和和气气，可还是刺痛了我的心，特别是当我发觉自己扮演的公主角色让另外一个女孩顶替时，就更是如此。那天回家吃午饭时我没有把这件事告诉母亲。然而，母亲察觉到我心神不定，因此没有再提练习背台词的事儿，而是问我愿不愿意到院子里散散步。
那真是一个可爱的春日，棚架上蔷薇的藤蔓正在变青。在一些高大的榆树下面，我们可以看到一丛丛黄色的蒲公英冒出草坪，仿佛是一位画家为了给眼前的美景增色而刻意加上的点点金色。我看到母亲在一簇花丛旁漫不经心地弯下腰来。“我看得把这些野草都拔了。”她一边说着，一边使劲把一丛蒲公英连根拔出，“往后咱这园子里只让长蔷薇花。”
“可是我喜欢蒲公英。”我不满地说，“凡是花都好看，蒲公英也不例外。”母亲严肃地看着我。“噢，这么说每朵花都自有它令人赏心悦目的地方喽？”她若有所思地问道。我点了点头。“可是人也一样呀。”母亲接着又发话，“不见得人人都能当公主，但当不了公主并不丢脸。”
母亲猜到了我的苦恼，这使我的情绪安定下来。我哭了起来，把事情的经过讲给母亲听。母亲专注地听着，脸上带着安详的微笑。“但你会成为一名顶呱呱的解说员。”母亲又说。她说平常我是多么喜欢朗诵故事给她听，还说：“从哪方面看，旁白这个角色都和公主那个角色一样重要。”
往后的几个星期，在母亲的一再鼓励下，我渐渐地为担任旁白的角色感到骄傲。利用午饭时间，我们又一起念台词，议论到时候我该穿什么样的演出服装。
演出的那个晚上，我在后台，心里格外紧张。离演出只差几分钟了，老师走了过来。“你母亲让我把这个交给你。”说着她递过来了一朵蒲公英。那花儿四周已开始打蔫，花瓣儿在梗上有气无力地耷拉着。可是只要看一眼，知道母亲就在外面待着，回想起和母亲在午饭时说的那些话，我就感到胸有成竹。
演出结束后，我把塞在演出服围裙里的那朵蒲公英带回了家。母亲将花接了过去，用两张纸巾将它压平，夹在一本词典里。她一边忙碌着，一边笑，想到也许只有我们俩会珍藏这么一朵打了蔫的蒲公英。