ThePickleJar(泡菜坛).docVIP

父母的爱总是那么无私和伟大，无论生活多么艰难，他们都会用自己的全力为孩子创造一个美好的未来。?The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.?　　When the jar was filled, we would take the coins to the bank. Each and every time, as he slid the box of coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly. These are for my sons college fund. Hell never work at the mill all his life like me.　　The years passed, and I finished college and took a job. Once, while visiting my parents, I noticed that the pickle jar in my parents bedroom was gone. A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of words could have done.? When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my dad had loved me. No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar.　　The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Susan carried the baby into my parents bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes. She took my hand and leading me into the room.?　　Look, she said softly, her eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins.?　　With the strong emotion choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I looked up and saw Dad who is carrying