By Qiao Ye

On a spring afternoon, I came home from work for lunch. Seeing my mother was airing her quilts, I was inspired to air my own.

I carried my quilts out in my arms, and aired them at the ends of the clothesline. After lunch, I went to work directly.

When I came back in the late afternoon and stepped into the doorway, I was greeted by my quilts still hanging there. However, they were in a different place than they were at noon—they had been moved to the sunniest place. The snowwhite linings of the quilts were gently gilded by the setting sun while my mother’s quilts were hanging dully and solitarily at the ends of the clothesline. On them, the shadows of the house were drawing their tedious and inerratic geometric patterns.

Walking in front of my quilts, I stroked them. They felt warm.

They were warm indeed, as warm as mother’s palms.

I also touched my mother’s quilts. They felt cool.

They were cool indeed, as cool as the back of Mother’s hand.

All of a sudden, a stream of bygone scenes floated before my eyes: the bed-sheet with thefinest quality in my home, the room in the best position, the potted flower in its lovely bloom, the most delicious dishes, and even the bowl printed with the most delicate patterns—all these were mine, just as the sunny spot where I stood.

I know that all these scenes were prepared intentionally by my mother, not just a coincidence.

In one’s short yet long life, it might be your friends who can give you joy; it might be your lover who can make you happy;and it might be your career that can enrich you. However, it must be your mother who makes you warm and cozy. With the backs of her hands, she shelters you from hardships as much as possible;with her warm palms, she keeps shining on you.

Mother is the eternal sunny place.

春季的一個中午，我下班回到了家里，看到母親正在曬被子，便也想把被子曬一下。

我把被子抱出來，曬在了晾衣繩的兩端。吃過午飯，我便上班去了。

下班回來，我一進家門，便看到了我的被子。與中午不同的是，它們已經(jīng)被曬在了陽光最好的地帶，夕陽將雪白的被里鍍上了一層淺淺的金色。而母親的被子卻寂寞地待在晾衣繩的兩端，房屋的陰影默默地在它們身上畫著單調(diào)而規(guī)則的幾何圖形。

我走到自己的被子面前，用手撫摸了一下，它們是溫暖的。

它們當(dāng)然是溫暖的，溫暖得如母親的手心。

我又撫摸了一下母親的被子，它們是清涼的。

它們當(dāng)然是清涼的，清涼如母親的手背。

我的眼前忽然呈現(xiàn)出了往昔的許多情節(jié)：家里質(zhì)地最好的那條床單，方位最佳的那個房間，開得最漂亮的那盆鮮花，做得最好吃的那盤菜，甚至吃飯時圖案最精致的那只碗……這些事物如我身處的這段陽光地帶一樣，都是我的。

我知道，對母親來說，這些情節(jié)不是偶然。

在人生短暫而漫長的征途上，給你快樂的也許是你的朋友，讓你美麗的也許是你的愛人，令你充實的也許是你的事業(yè)。但使你溫暖的必定是你的母親。她用自己的手背盡可能多地為你阻擋著風(fēng)霜，她用自己的手心為你釋放著綿綿不絕的溫暖陽光。

母親是永遠的陽光地帶。