夏天，树木长得葱葱茏茏，密密层层的枝叶把森林封得严严实实的，挡住了人们的视线，遮住了蓝蓝的天空。早晨，雾从山谷里升起来，整个森林浸在乳白色的浓雾里。太阳出来了，千万缕像利剑一样的金光，穿过树梢，照射在工人宿舍门前的草地上。草地上盛开着各种各样的野花，红的、白的、黄的、紫的，真像个美丽的大花坛。

D

    Night after night，she came to help me sleep，even long after my childhood years．

    I don't remember when it first started making me a little angry-my mom's hands pushing my hair that way．But it really made me uncomfortable，for they felt rough against my young skin．Finally, one night，I shouted at her．"Don't do that anymore．Your hands are too rough!" She didn't say anything, but she never did it again．

    Years later, I missed my mother's hands and her goodnight kiss on my face. I was not a little girl anymore. My mom was in her mid—seventies, and her rough hands were still doing things for my family and me．   

    Now my own children have grown up．It was late on Thanksgiving Eve．As I slept in my bedroom，a familiar hand ran across my face to push the hair from my head. Then a kiss，ever so softly, touched my forehead．

    Taking my mom's hand，I told her how sorry I was for that night I shouted at her．But my mom didn't know what I was talking about．She had forgotten it for long．

    That night，I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my mother's caring hands. And the guilt that I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found．