“妈妈,我们班的刘静琳说你对她很好,每次过马路都拉着她的手,还对她笑,是不是?”放学回家,女儿站在厨房门口看着洗菜的我问道。“是的,怎么啦?”我微笑着回答她,眼前浮现出那个眼睛大大的小姑娘。我下班,小姑娘放学,经常在那个路口遇到。每次我都对着她微笑,然后自然地拉着她过马路,我知道她是女儿的同学,尽管很多的时候我们并不说话,但只要遇见她,我都会伸出手。特别是在知道她妈妈有些轻微的精神病后,我更是多了几分怜惜,对她的笑容更加温暖。小姑娘过了马路,我放开手的时候,总会对我笑笑,无言但温馨,我的心里快乐极了,因为我是妈妈,所以我会情不自禁地伸出手,微笑着拉着她。 “Mom, Liu Jinglin in our class said that you are very good to her. Every time I cross the street, she takes her hand and smiles at her. Is not it?” After returning home from school, my daughter stood by the kitchen door and looked at the vegetables I was asking Road. “Yes, what’s the matter?” I smiled and answered her, the little girl with big eyes emerging. I got off work, the little girl came out of school and often met at that juncture. Every time I smile at her, and then naturally took her across the road, I know she is a daughter’s classmate, although a lot of time we do not speak, but as long as meet her, I will reach out. Especially after I knew that her mother had some mild mental illness, I was more sympathetic and smiled at her more warmly. When the girl passed the road, I always smiled at me when I let go of it. There was no word but warmth. My heart was very happy. Because I was a mother, I could not help but extend my hand and smiled and held her .