But I believe she took on reality and life for the first time in the burst of ineffable4 tenderness which I felt when one May morning she entered my room with a bouquet5 of pink hyacinths in her hand; she brought in with her as she came a ray of sunlight.
I was convalescing6 from one of the maladies peculiar7 to children,—measles or whooping8 cough, I know not which,—and I had been ordered to remain in bed and to keep warm. By the rays of light that filtered in through the closed shutters9 I divined the springtime warmth and brightness of the sun and air, and I felt sad that I had to remain behind the curtains of my tiny white bed; I wished to rise and go out; but most of all I had a desire to see my mother.
The door opened and she entered, smiling. Ah, I remember it so well! I recall so distinctly how she looked as she stood upon the threshold of the door. And I remember that she brought in with her some of the sunlight and balminess of the spring day.
I see again the expression of her face as she looked at me; and I hear the sound of her voice, and recall the details of her beloved dress that would look funny and old-fashioned to me now. She had returned from her morning shopping, and she wore a straw hat trimmed with yellow roses and a shawl of lilac barege (it was the period of the shawl) sprinkled with tiny bouquets10 of violets. Her dark curls (the poor beloved curls to-day, alas11! so thin and white) were at this time without a gray hair. There was about her the fragrance12 of the May day, and her face as it looked that morning with its broad brimmed hat is still distinctly present with me. Besides the bouquet of pink hyacinths, she had brought me a tiny watering-pot, an exact imitation in miniature of the crockery ones so much used by the country people.
As she leaned over my bed to embrace me I felt as if every wish was gratified. I no longer had a desire to weep, nor to rise from my bed, nor to go out. She was with me and that sufficed—I was consoled, tranquillized, and re-created by her gracious presence.
I was, I think, a little more than three years old at this time, and my mother must have been about forty-two years of age; but I had not the least notion of age in regard to her, and it had never occurred to me to wonder whether she was young or old; nor did I realize until a later time that she was beautiful. No, at this period that she was her own dear self was enough; to me she was in face and form a person so apart and so unique that I would not have dreamed of comparing her with any one else. From her whole being there emanated13 such a joyousness14, security and tenderness, and so much goodness that from thence was born my understanding of faith and prayer.
I would that I could speak hallowed words to the first blessed form that I find in the book of memory. I would it were possible that I could greet my mother with words filled with the meaning I wish to convey. They are words which cause bountiful tears to flow, but tears fraught15 with I know not how much of the sweetness of consolation16 and joy, words that are ever, and in spite of everything, filled with the hope of an immortal17 reunion.
And since I have touched upon this mystery that has had such an influence upon my soul, I will here set down that my mother alone is the only person in the world of whom I have the feeling that death cannot separate me. With other human beings, those whom I have loved with all my heart and soul, I have tried to imagine a hereafter, a to-morrow in which there shall be no to-morrow; but no, I cannot! Rather I have always had a horrible consciousness of our nothingness—dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Because of my mother alone have I been able to keep intact the faith of my early days. It still seems to me that when I have finished playing my poor part in life, when I no longer run in the overgrown paths that lead to the unattainable, when I am through amusing humanity with my conceits18 and my sorrows, I will go there where my mother, who has gone before me, is, and she will receive me; and the smile of serenity19 that she now wears in my memory will have become one of triumphant20 realization21.
True, I see that distant region only dimly, and it has no more substance than a pale gray vision; my words, however intangible and elusive22, give too definite a form to my dreamy conceptions. But still (I speak as a little child, with the child's faith), but still I always think of my mother as having, in that far off place, preserved her earthly aspect. I think of her with her dear white curls and the straight lines of her beautiful profile that the years may have impaired23 a little, but which I still find perfect. The thought that the face of my mother shall one day disappear from my eyes forever, that it is no more than combined elements subject to disintegration24, and that she will be lost in the universal abyss of nothingness, not only makes my heart bleed, but it causes me to revolt as at something unthinkable and monstrous25; it cannot be! I have the feeling that there is about her something which death cannot touch.
My love for my mother (the only changeless love of my life) is so free from all material feeling that that alone gives me an inexplicable26 hope, almost gives me a confidence in the immortality27 of the soul.
I cannot very well understand why the vision of my mother near my bed of sickness should that morning have impressed me so vividly28, for she was nearly always with me. It all seems very mysterious; it is as if at that particular moment she was for the first time revealed to me.
And why among the treasured playthings of my childhood has the tiny watering-pot taken on the value and sacred dignity of a relic29? So much so indeed, that when I am far distant on the ocean, in hours of danger, I think of it with tenderness, and see it in the place where it has lain for years, in the little bureau, never opened, mixed in with broken toys; and should it disappear I would feel as if I had lost an amulet30 that could not be replaced.
And the simple shawl of lilac barege, found recently among some old clothing laid aside to be given to the poor, why have I put it away as carefully as if it were a priceless object? Because in its color (now faded), in its quaint31 Indian pattern and tiny bouquets of violets, I still find an emanation from my mother; I believe that I borrow therefrom a holy calm and sweet confidence that is almost a faith. And mingled32 in with the other feelings there is perhaps a melancholy33 regret for those May mornings of long ago that seemed so much brighter than are those of to-day.
Truly I fear this book, the most personal I have ever written, will weary many.
In transcribing34 these memories in the calm of middle life, so favorable to reverie, I had constantly present in my thought the lovely queen to whom I would dedicate this book; it is as if I were writing her a long letter with the full assurance of being understood in all those sacred matters to which words give but an inadequate35 expression.
Perhaps you will understand also, my dear unknown readers, who with kindly36 sympathy have followed me thus far; and all those who cherish, or who have been cherished by their mothers will not smile at the childish things written down here.
But this chapter will certainly seem ridiculous to those who are strangers to an all absorbing love, they will not be able to imagine that I have a deep pity to exchange for their cynical37 smiles.
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1
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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convalescing
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| v.康复( convalesce的现在分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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13
emanated
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的过去式和过去分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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joyousness
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| 快乐，使人喜悦 | |
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fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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conceits
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| 高傲( conceit的名词复数 )； 自以为； 巧妙的词语； 别出心裁的比喻 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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disintegration
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| n.分散，解体 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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amulet
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| n.护身符 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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34
transcribing
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| （用不同的录音手段）转录( transcribe的现在分词 )； 改编（乐曲）（以适应他种乐器或声部）； 抄写； 用音标标出（声音） | |
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35
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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