Like every other Sunday morning， my best friend， Patty， dropped my godchildren， Jeremiah and Rachel， off at my apartment around 6：30 a.m. before she went on her way to work.

And， just like every other Sunday morning， we all went back to sleep for a couple of hours. When everyone awoke I made a quick breakfast and then the four of us， my husband， Larry， the kids and myself， hurried and got ourselves out the door for church， just like every other Sunday morning.

It wasnt until we walked through the church doors and I saw the girl standing there passing out flowers that I remembered this wasnt like every other Sunday morning， it was Mothers Day.

Before I could stop him， Jeremiah， always the curious child， went up to the girl and tugged on her arm. “Linda， what are you doing？” He asked.

Linda smiled at him and said brightly “Im giving a flower to every mother in church today because its Mothers day.”

Jeremiahs eyes grew bright. “My mom had to work today. Can I have a flower to take home to give her？”

I was so proud of him at that moment. Jeremiah was often hyper， and it was sometimes hard for him to remember to speak slowly and ask for things politely when he was excited. But he had been the perfect little gentleman when he asked for that flower.

“Of course.” Linda answered， and lowered the box she was holding so that Jeremiah could pick out a flower for Patty.

Jeremiah turned towards me， proudly holding a pink carnation in his hand. He smiled at me. His dark eyes danced with pride and love and excitement. I smiled at him and motioned for him to come with me so we could go take our seats in church， but instead， he turned back towards Linda.“Can I please have a flower for Aunt Kimmie too？”

I felt my breath catch somewhere in my chest. That was the last thing I had expected Jeremiah to do. It was one of the sweetest and most sincere things I had ever heard him say. But neither of us was ready for what happened next.

“Oh， no， Jeremiah. She cant have a flower. She isnt a mom.” Linda replied.

I watched as all the joy Jeremiah had been feeling left his face. Gone was his bright smile. Those sparkling eyes of his turned troubled. There was now a confused， pain-filled little boy standing where， just seconds ago， a very happy child had stood.

My heart broke in about a million pieces， but not for myself， for Jeremiah. His heart was broken， and my heart ached for him.

But my heart was also full because， in that incredibly insensitive moment， I found out how much Jeremiah loved me and how much I meant to him.

I may not have been his mom， but it was my apartment he came to after school several days a week while Patty worked. I was the one that fixed his meals and gave him his favorite Popsicles. I always read him stories and sang songs to him. I calmed his fears and chased away the monsters when he had a bad dream， and， I was the keeper of the band-aids when he was hurt. I was the one that was there when Patty couldnt be. In Jeremiahs eyes， I might not have been his mom， but I was just as important as his own mother was. And， he always affectionately called me， “Aunt Kimmie”， even though I wasnt.

I shot Linda a look as I took Jeremiah by the hand and urged him to come with me. She started to say something， but at that point I didnt trust myself to respond kindly to her， so I turned my back and walked away. Perhaps it wasnt the Christian thing to do， but walking away beat the few choice un-Christian words I wanted to say to her instead.

The rest of that morning Jeremiah was quiet and withdrawn. When we got back home from church I got out my prettiest vase so he could keep that pink carnation in it and give it to Patty when she came for him. But his enthusiasm had been crushed; the joy he had felt had been robbed from him. And I didnt know how to fix it for him.

That afternoon after nap time， Jeremiah and Rachel went outside to play in the courtyard of our apartment building. I was in the kitchen making dinner for everyone when I heard the front door open. Jeremiah slowly came to the doorway of the kitchen， his hands behind his back.

“Aunt Kimmie，” he said softly， “You deserve something for Mothers day.” I knelt down in front of him as he pulled out a handful of fresh picked dandelions and gave them to me. I felt tears on my cheeks as I gathered him in my arms and hugged him tightly.“I love you， Aunt Kimmie.”

“I love you， too， Jeremiah.” And， I couldnt have loved him more if he had been my own son.

清晨六點(diǎn)半左右，和往常的星期天一樣，我最好的朋友帕蒂在她去上班之前，將我的兩個(gè)教子女杰里邁亞和瑞秋扔在了我的公寓。

和以往任何一個(gè)星期天一樣，我們又都回到床上多睡了幾個(gè)小時(shí)的回籠覺(jué)。趕在他們起床前，我迅速地做好了早餐。吃完早餐后，我和丈夫拉里還有孩子們就急急忙忙地出門(mén)去教堂做禮拜，就和以往任何一個(gè)星期天一樣。

直到我們走過(guò)教堂門(mén)口，我看見(jiàn)有個(gè)女孩站在那兒給每個(gè)路過(guò)的人分發(fā)花朵，我才記起來(lái)，今天并不同于以往任何一個(gè)星期天。因?yàn)榻裉焓悄赣H節(jié)。

杰里邁亞是個(gè)好奇心很強(qiáng)的孩子，我還沒(méi)來(lái)得及阻止他，他就徑直走向那個(gè)女孩，拉了拉她的手臂，問(wèn)：“琳達(dá)，你在這兒干嘛呢？”

琳達(dá)沖著他微笑，明朗地說(shuō)：“我在這給每一個(gè)來(lái)教堂做禮拜的媽媽送花，因?yàn)榻裉焓悄赣H節(jié)。”

杰里邁亞兩眼放光?！拔覌寢尳裉爝€得上班沒(méi)能來(lái)。可以給我一朵花帶回家去送給她嗎？”

那一刻，我為他感到很自豪。杰里邁亞經(jīng)常都處于亢奮狀態(tài)，對(duì)于他來(lái)說(shuō)，在情緒激動(dòng)的情況下還能記得慢條斯理地說(shuō)話(huà)、彬彬有禮地向別人要東西，著實(shí)不易。但就在剛剛他問(wèn)女孩要那朵花兒時(shí)，他表現(xiàn)得就像一個(gè)完美的小紳士。

“當(dāng)然?！绷者_(dá)答道，然后她把手里的盒子放低，讓杰里邁亞為他媽媽帕蒂挑選一朵花。

杰里邁亞轉(zhuǎn)向我的時(shí)候，手里拿著一支粉色康乃馨，洋洋得意的樣子。他朝我微笑。烏黑的眼睛里洋溢著驕傲、愛(ài)意和興奮。我也笑著回應(yīng)他，示意他過(guò)來(lái)和我一起去教堂里找個(gè)位置坐下。但他沒(méi)有，他轉(zhuǎn)過(guò)身去，面對(duì)著琳達(dá)?！拔铱梢栽僖欢浠ㄋ徒o金米姨媽嗎？”

我感覺(jué)我的心揪了一下。我從未料到杰里邁亞會(huì)這么做。目前為止，這是我從他口中聽(tīng)到的最暖心最真摯的話(huà)。然而，接下來(lái)發(fā)生的事卻讓我們都措手不及。

“噢，不行，杰里邁亞。她不能拿花。因?yàn)樗皇悄赣H。”琳達(dá)這么回答道。

頓時(shí)，我看到之前在杰里邁亞臉上洋溢著的快樂(lè)一掃而空。隨之消散的還有他明亮的笑容。他原本閃爍的雙眸被不安所籠罩。此刻，站在原地的是一個(gè)滿(mǎn)臉困惑、內(nèi)心痛苦的小男孩，可是就在幾秒之前，他還是無(wú)比快樂(lè)的。

我的心已碎得不像樣，但并不是為我自己，而是為杰里邁亞。我知道他的心靈受到了打擊，我為他感到心痛。

但是，我的心在碎的同時(shí)卻又是完整的，因?yàn)椋驮谀莻€(gè)毫無(wú)人情味的瞬間，我才知道，原來(lái)杰里邁亞愛(ài)我如此之深，原來(lái)我對(duì)他來(lái)說(shuō)如此重要。

也許我從不曾是他的媽媽?zhuān)恢苡泻脦滋焖艑W(xué)后都會(huì)來(lái)我家，因?yàn)橛袝r(shí)帕蒂要工作沒(méi)法照顧他。為他做飯、給他買(mǎi)最喜歡的冰棍的人是我;總是給他讀故事、唱歌的人是我;他做了惡夢(mèng)，為他趕走怪物、驅(qū)散恐懼的人是我;他受傷時(shí)，為他貼上創(chuàng)可貼的人還是我。我是那個(gè)在帕蒂缺席時(shí)陪在他身邊的人。在杰里邁亞的眼里，也許我從不曾是他的媽媽?zhuān)覍?duì)于他來(lái)說(shuō)，和他媽媽同樣重要。他總是會(huì)親昵地叫我：“金米姨媽”，即使我并不是他的姨媽。

當(dāng)拉起杰里邁亞的手催促他跟我走的時(shí)候，我瞪了琳達(dá)一眼。她好像要解釋些什么，但那一刻我不能指望自己會(huì)做出友好的反應(yīng)，所以我頭也沒(méi)回地走了。也許作為一個(gè)基督徒我不該就這么走開(kāi)，但是這么做卻讓我忍住沒(méi)對(duì)她說(shuō)出幾個(gè)更出格的詞語(yǔ)。

那天早上發(fā)生了那件事以后，杰里邁亞就一直很安靜，一聲不吭。從教堂回到家后，我把我最漂亮的花瓶拿給他，讓他把那支粉色的康乃馨放在里面，等帕蒂來(lái)接他時(shí)送給她。然而他的熱情已經(jīng)完全被摧毀了;那個(gè)女孩的話(huà)奪走了他的快樂(lè)。我不知道要怎么做才能補(bǔ)救這個(gè)局面。

午休過(guò)后，杰里邁亞和瑞秋在我們公寓前的庭院玩耍。我正在廚房里準(zhǔn)備晚餐，突然，我聽(tīng)到前門(mén)打開(kāi)的聲音。只見(jiàn)杰里邁亞慢慢地走到廚房門(mén)口，雙手背在他的身后。

“金米姨媽?zhuān)彼p聲說(shuō)道，“今天是母親節(jié)，你應(yīng)該要收到禮物?！蔽覐澫孪ドw跪下來(lái)與他在同一水平線(xiàn)上，他從身后拿出一束剛剛摘的蒲公英要送給我。我把他緊緊擁入懷中，淚水從臉頰滑落。“我愛(ài)你，金米姨媽?！?/p>

“我也愛(ài)你，杰里邁亞。”其實(shí)，我愛(ài)他一直就像愛(ài)自己的孩子一樣。