一天深夜,艾莉森·麦基站在卧室门口看着熟睡的女儿时,心中不知被什么温柔地触碰了一下。于是她悄悄走进厨房,在餐桌旁写下:“那一天,我数着你的手指,轻轻把它们亲遍;那一天,初雪飘落,我把你高高举起,看雪花在你柔软的肌肤上融化。那一天,我们一起穿过街道,你紧紧抓住我的手……”诗一般的文字,仿佛一位母亲的喃喃自语:有一天,这个正在自己怀里酣睡的小不点会独自去体验成长中的酸甜苦辣;有一天,他会离开家去闯荡自己的人生;有一天他也会拥有自 Late one night, when Alison McKee stood watching his sleeping daughter in front of his bedroom, he did not know what touched it gently. So she quietly walked into the kitchen, wrote down at the table: “That day, I count your fingers, gently kiss them all over; that day, the first snow falling, I put you up high and see the snow in your Soft skin to melt that day, we go through the streets together, you hold my hand tightly ... ”poetic text, as if a mother murmured: one day, this is in his arms Sleepy little do not go alone to experience the ups and downs of growing up; one day, he would leave home to battles his life; one day he will have