填 词 专 练.doc

填 词 专 练 （一） Night after night, she came to tuck me in, even long after my childhood years. Following her longstanding custom, she’d lean down and push my long hair out of the way, then kiss my forehead. I don’t remember when it f 1 started annoying me—her hands pushing my hair that way. But it did annoy me, for they felt work-worn and rough a 2 my young skin. Finally, one night, I s 3 out at her, “Don’t do that anymore梱our hands are too rough!e” She didn’t say anything in r 4 . But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar e 5 of her love. Time after time, with the passing years, my thoughts r 6 to that night. By then I missed my mother’s hands, missed her goodnight kiss on my forehead. Sometimes the incident seemed very c 7 , sometimes far away. But always it lurked in the back of my mind. Well, the years have passed, and I’m not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid-seventies, and those hands I o 8 thought to be so rough are still doing things for me and my family. She’s been our doctor, reaching into a medicine cabinet for the remedy to calm a young girl’s stomach or soothe the boy’s scraped knees. She cooks the best fried children in the world and gets stains o 9 of blue jeans like I never could… Now, my own children are g 10 and gone. Mom no longer has Dad, and on special occasions, I find myself drawn net door to spend the night with her. So it was late on Thanksgiving Eve, as I slept in the bedroom of my youth, a familiar hand hesitantly run a 11 my face to brush the hair from my forehead. Then a kiss, ever so gently, touched my brow. In my memory, for the thousandth t 12 , I recalled the night my young voice complained, “Don’t do that anymore梱our hands are too rough! ” Catching Mom’s hand in hand, I blurted out how s 13 I was for that night. I thought she’d remember, as I did. But Mom didn’t know what I was talking about. She had f 14 梐nd forgiven條ong ago. That night, I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother