一阵寒风吹来,我不禁打了个哆嗦,原来是冬天到了。我掏出放在口袋里的手,拿出来搓一搓,一根记忆的长线,一瞬间从我的脑海里被牵了出来,越牵越长,我仿佛又回到了那个寒风刺骨的夜晚。那晚,我呆呆地坐在床上,看那一根长长的毛线在妈妈无比灵巧的手中穿来引去,勾勒出一只手套的雏形。我 A cold wind blowing, I can not help but shiver, turned out to be winter. I took out my hand in my pocket, took it out and rubbed it. A long line of memory was pulled out of my mind for an instant, and the longer it took me, it seemed as if I was back in the biting night . That night, I sat blankly on the bed, looking at the long, knit yarn that I wore in my mother’s incredibly dexterous hands, outlining the prototype of a glove. I