Night after night， Mom came to tuck me in， even long after my childhood years. Following her long?standing custom， shed lean down pushing my hair out of the way and then kiss my forehead.

每天夜里，母亲总是在我入睡之后，为我掖好被子，然后俯下身子，拨开我的头发，亲吻我的前额。日复一日，母亲一直保持着这个习惯，即使我已不再是小孩子了。

I dont remember when it first started annoying me. Finally， one night， I shouted out at her， “Dont do that anymore—your hands are too rough!” She didnt say anything in reply.

不知从什么时候开始，母亲的这种习惯渐渐让我感到不悦。终于，在一个夜晚，我忍不住冲她吼了起来：“你不要再这样了，你的手好粗糙!”母亲无言以对。

Well， years have passed， and Im not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid?seventies. One time， it was Mothers Day and I found myself drawn next door to spend the night with my mom.

若干年后，我长大了，不再是个小女孩。母亲也已到了古稀之年。有一次，恰好是母亲节，我决定就睡在母亲旁边的卧室里，陪她度过这一夜。

As I slept in the bedroom of my youth， a familiar hand hesitantly ran across my face. Then a kiss， ever so gently， touched my brow. In my memory， for the thousandth time， I recalled the complaint of my young voice. Catching Moms hand in my hands， I blurted out how sorry I was for that night. But Mom didnt know what I was talking about. She had forgotten and forgiven long ago.

当我睡在我儿时的卧室里时，一只熟悉的手犹豫着从我的脸上掠过。然后，一个吻，带着一如往日的温柔，轻轻落在了我的额头。在我的记忆中，我曾无数次回忆起那晚的情景和我那稚嫩的抱怨声。我一把抓住母亲的手，一股脑说出我对那一晚深深的愧疚。然而，母亲却不知我在说些什么。她早忘了，早已原谅我了。

That night， I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother and her caring hands.

那天晚上，我带着对母亲新的感激安然入睡，我感激她的温柔，和她那充满关怀的双手。