在枝头的果子已经充盈着甜蜜和幸福的时候,我也长大了。一扇花花绿绿的泡沫门沉重地竖在我面前,我盯着它,鼻尖发酸,心尖绞痛。门后等待着我的就是舞台、评委、观众和母亲。我却一点儿都不慌。我怕我是根本就不敢慌。我想起那一刻的妈妈,她眼角含着笑意的同时也埋着岁月的刻纹。她俯下身子,低下头,以唯唯诺诺的神态对台下的每一个观众都说一遍同样的话。 I grew up when the branches of fruit were full of sweetness and happiness. A colorful foam door heavy in front of me, I stared at it, the nose sore, apex colic. The door waiting for me is the stage, judges, spectators and mothers. I do not panic at all. I’m afraid I just do not panic. I remember the moment of the mother, her eyes with a smile, but also engraved with years of engraving. She leaned over, lowered her head and told the audience the audience the audience with the same words in a venerable manner.