“母亲”这个词在我心中曾淡忘了很久很久。我三岁的时候,父母不和,母亲离开了家,离开了我。我只能跟随年迈的爷爷生活。很多年,我都没看到过母亲,家人也不跟我讲与母亲有关的情况。每每看到别人有母亲牵着手一起开心地走着,我就只有羡慕的份了。对我来说,母亲的味道就是卖火柴的小女孩闻到的烤鸭的味道,可望而不可即。失望次数多了,慢慢地,“母亲” “Mother ” the word in my mind had forgotten a long, long time. When I was three, my parents did not reconcile and my mother left home and left me. I can only live with my grandpa For many years, I have not seen my mother, my family did not tell me about the situation with her mother. Every time I see someone walking with my mother holding hands happily, I have only envy. To me, the taste of the mother is the taste of the roast duck that the little girl selling matches looks out of place. More disappointments, slowly, “mother”