一台绿色旧打字机.docVIP

一台绿色旧打字机 　　(Gerald Moore)/文 　　 李树德/编译 　　 　　 纪念品可谓五花八门，作者把母亲用过的一台旧打字机留作纪念品，意义非同寻常。每当遇到困难，畏缩不前时，或是受到挫折，自叹不走运时，他就坐在打字机前打上几行，这样就会获得一往无前的勇气。 　　 　　Coming home from school that dark winter’s day so long ago, I was filled with hope. I bounded up the steps, burst into the living room and switched on a light. 　　I was shocked into stillness by what I saw. Mother, pulled into a tight ball with her face in her hands, sat at the far end of the couch. She was crying. I had never seen her cry. 　　I approached cautiously and touched her shoulder “What’s happened?” 　　She took a long breath and managed a weak smile. “It’s nothing, really. Nothing important. Just that I’m going to lose this new job. I can’t type fast enough.” 　　“But you’ve only been there three days,” I said. “You’ll catch on.” I was repeating a line she had spoken to me a hundred times when I was having trouble learning or doing something important to me. 　　“No,” she said sadly. “I always said I could do anything I set my mind to, and I still think I can in most things. But I can’t do this.” 　　I felt helpless and out of place. At age 16 I still thought Mother could do anything. Some years before, Mother had decided to open a day nursery. She had had no training, but that didn’t stand in her way. She sent away for correspondence courses in child care, did the lessons and in six months formally qualified herself for the task. It wasn’t long before she had a full enrollment and a waiting list. 　　A few months after we’d moved to this new place, Mother arrived home with a used typewriter. It skipped between certain letters and the keyboard was soft. At dinner that night I pronounced the machine a “piece of junk.” 　　“That’s all we can afford,” Mother said. “It’s good enough to learn on.” And from that day on, as soon as the table was cleared and the dishes were done, Mother would disappear into her sewing room to practice. The slow tap, tap, tap went on some nights until midnight. 　　It was nearly Christmas whe