英语美文:The Smell Of Grass(父亲节系列)

林贝卡 · 2011-06-02 08:06:27Z

英语美文:The Smell Of Grass(父亲节系列)简介

来源: 林贝卡于 2011-06-02 08:06:27 [档案] [博客] [旧帖] [给我悄悄话] 阅读数 : (6241 bytes)

The Smell Of Grass
Author: Adelaide Isaac

　　Oh, how cool and tranquil it was, lying in the freshly cut jade grass. The aroma of wet grass was enough to take Amber back to when she was four. Spread out in that grass, she gazed into the soft, blue sky. She and her father would make clouds into animals, and her father would always say they looked like elephants. The cicadas would buzz, a sound of summer. Even though the heat was sweltering, the cool backyard grass was just the trick to refresh Amber and her father.

　　 Every time she thought of her early childhood summers, she remembered grass, melon, Popsicles, plastic pools, sprinklers, blue skies, clear water and green, green grass. Amber snapped out of her memory and unlocked the front door. Lately, she had been thinking a lot about her backyard and those summers she spent with her dad.

　　 Amber's father had died August 24, 1990, when she was five years old. He'd been diagnosed with cancer that summer but kept it a secret from Amber, not wanting to ruin their last few weeks together. She'd missed him a lot lately; last Tuesday he would have been forty-five years old. Even though she was so young when he died, she remembered everything about him. His big smile, tan complexion, his comforting laugh. She loved every second of the days she spent with him; she was definitely her father's daughter.
/>

　　 Amber plopped her stuff down on her mother's desk and started her history work. After twenty minutes had passed, she stretched and looked around. She needed a pencil sharpener. She fumbled through every drawer of the old oak desk. She came across a ragged blue book in a pile of others. Her hand trembled as she felt the leather cover. She took a deep breath. She opened it up and began to read the black scribbly writing:

　　 July 26, 1990
　　 I still haven't broken the news to my little girl. Every time I look into her sweet eyes, I can't find the words to put it lightly. I know I will miss her the most. If only I could stay to see her grow; we are so much alike. I know I will watch over her, when I no longer exist in this world. I will desperately miss all of our fun times playing in the grass in our yard.

　 Amber put the book down. She did not need to read any more. She was already sobbing quietly — partly out of sadness, partly out of happiness, but mostly because four small blades of dried grass fell out of the book and into her hands.