前些天,读了一篇《你为母亲洗脚了吗》的小文章,颇有感触,到家以后便也决定为母亲洗一次脚。妈妈端坐着,略显窘态。想对我说些什么,却欲说还休。“妈,水烫吗?”我轻轻地问。“不,还好!”妈笑了。我蹲下,握住了母亲的脚。我一下子把头埋得很低,不敢仰视她的眼睛。我哭了——为母亲养育我的这17个年头。曾是那样纤弱的脚,如今却皱巴巴的,还硬得很。“妈,你很累吧!”我心疼地说。没有回答。我却沉入了回忆。 A few days ago, I read a little article about “Why did you wash your feet for your mother?”. When you got home, you decided to wash your mother’s feet. The mother sat, slightly embarrassed. What would you like to say to me? “Mom, hot water?” I asked gently. “No, it’s okay!” The mother laughed. I knelt down and took my mother’s foot. I buried my head so low that I dared not look up at her eyes. I cried - for my mother’s raising my 17 years. Once so delicate feet, but now wrinkled, but also very hard. “Mom, you’re tired!” I said distressedly. no answer. I sink into memory.