“慈母手中线,游子身上衣。临行密密缝,意恐迟迟归。”一千多年前孟郊的母亲不是这样为即将远行的爱子缝进千般留念与万般牵挂吗?此刻,我看着母亲那点点的白发,干干的小手和密密的针脚,心中仿佛坠了颗巨石,沉重难耐…… 不知从什么时候开始,我开始思索关于母亲:母亲倒底是怎样的一个人?于是母亲的故事便桩桩件件历历如在眼前了。 “Mother in the hands of the line, wandering body shirt. Probably the secret seam, meaning fear of late.” Meng Jiao’s mother more than a thousand years ago is not so far for the Aiko sewn into the thousands of commemorative and universal care it? At the moment, I looked at my mother’s little white hair, my dry hands and my dense stitches. It seemed like a boulder fell into my heart and I was impatient ... I do not know when I started to think about Mother A person? So the story of the mother of the pile pile pieces of calendar as before.