嘉丽·霍华德/Carrie Howard

When I was a little girl, my mother sat on the edge of my bed every night and sang me to sleep in her soft alto voice She sang lullabies and old folk songs, soothing melodies that eased me from wakefulness into slumber. Those peaceful few minutes at the end of the day are among my sweetest childhood memories.

I remember watching my mother and thinking how beautiful she was, with the light from the hall illuminating the curve of her cheek and glowing like a halo in her wavy hair. I wished the moment would never end, but no song lasts forever. I promised myself that when I had a daughter I would sing to her as long as she wanted.

I never forgot that promise. When my husband and I brought our long-awaited baby daughter, Tessa, home from China at the age of eleven months, I was ready. On our first night together at home, I held her across my lap in our big oak rocking chair and sang the familiar lullabies I had waited so long to sing:“Rock-a-Bye, Baby”“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”and“Hush, Little Baby”I sang all seven verses of“Hush, Little Baby”which I had painstakingly memorized in preparation for the occasion.

When I had finished singing. Tessa wasn't quite asleep, but she looked drowsy. I rose and headed toward the crib to lay her down, but she immediately sat up and started to fuss. Okay, I thought, she needs a little more time, So I sat back down and sang the lullabies again, waiting for her eyes to close. They didn't. I sang my songs one more time, throwing in“The Alphabet Song”for good measure, until finally she seemed to be asleep. I laid her in the crib and turned to leave. Then I hit a squeaky floorboard. Tessa's little head popped up, and she began to wail.

When I had vowed that my child would get as many bedtime songs as she wanted, I hadn't counted on this particular child's determination. Perhaps, having waited so long for a family of her own.she didn't want to let me go that easily. And I couldn't bear to allow a child who had so recently left the orphanage to cry herself to sleep.

But I was quickly growing tired of the songs I had previously been so eager to sing. Tedium isn't necessarily a liability in a lullaby-it is possible to bore a child to sleep-but I found myself yearning for a little musical variety. I realized that it was going to take more than my tiny collection of lullabies to get my daughter to sleep.

In the months that followed, I tried out a variety of bedtime songs so that I could add the best ones to my repertoire. I evaluated each tune according to Tessa's personal rating system:She fussed and frowned when she didn't like a song, and commanded,“Again, Mama,”when she did like one.

Not every song I auditioned made our lullaby hit parade. I like Gershwin tunes, but Tessa is no jazz baby, so“Embraceable You”didn't make the final cut. On the other hand, I found that cowboy songs make surprisingly effective lullabies. The lyrics are a bit melancholy, but the rolling rhythms of“Red River Valley”“I Ride an Old Paint”and“Down in the Valley”are soothing, like riding a gentle old pony into the sunset. Likewise, the sentimental songs that were popular early in the last century-“Good Night, Ladies”“Let Me Call You Sweetheart”and“You Are My Sunshine”-are still lovely, even when they're sung by a solo alto instead of a barbershop quartet. And Tessa loved the folk songs my mother sang to me all those years ago, songs like“The Big Rock Candy Mountain.”“I've Been Working on the Railroad”and Tessa's favorite“The Riddle Song”which she immediately dubbed“The Cherry Song”：

I gave my love a cherry that had no stone

I gave my love a chicken that had no bone

I gave my love a story that had no end

I gave my love a baby with no crying

After eleven or twelve songs, Tessa would relax her hold on the day, her bright eyes would close, and I'd hear her breathing grow deep and regular. Carefully, I would lay her in her bed and creep from the room. We had triumphed over wakefulness for one more day.

This was our routine for many nights, until finally Tessa learned that when I left her in her bed, I wasn't leaving for long and that a cry of“Mama!”would always bring me back.

Tessa is six now, too big to hold across my lap, so I sing to her in bed. It no longer takes a dozen songs to get her to sleep;usually one is enough.

“What do you want me to sing tonight?”I ask, stroking her hair.

“The Cherry Song,”she always answers, with a sleepy smile. And I sing her that sweet song of unending love.

A cherry when it's blooming, it has no stone

A chicken when it's pipping, it has no bone

The story of“I love you,”it has no end

A baby when it's sleeping, there's no crying

After she falls asleep, I linger a while. I sit on the edge of her bed thinking how beautiful she is, with the light from the hall illuminating the curve of her cheek and shining like a moonbeam on her sleek black hair. I wish the moment would never end, but no childhood lasts forever. And so I try to make memories that will.

当我还是个小女孩时，每天晚上妈妈都会坐在我的床边，让我在她那低沉轻柔的女低音中进入梦乡。她所唱的歌曲都是一些摇篮曲和古老的民谣，那些舒缓的旋律轻易地把我从清醒状态带入了梦乡。在一天将要过去的时候，这宁静祥和的几分钟成了我童年生活中最甜美的回忆。

现在，我依然记得我望着母亲，心中赞叹着她真是太美了。在客厅射过来的灯光的照耀下，她那线条优美的面颊熠熠生辉，那波浪般起伏的秀发闪闪发光，仿佛有一圈光晕笼罩在她的头上。我在心里默默祈祷：这一刻永远不要停止。但是，没有哪首歌是可以永远唱下去的。我向自己承诺，将来我要是有了女儿，只要她想听，我就会一直为她唱下去。

我一直没有忘记这个承诺。当丈夫和我从中国抱回我们盼望已久的女婴特莎时，我就已经作好了准备。那时，特莎只有11个月大。我们在家里共同度过的第一个夜晚，我坐在家里巨大的橡木摇椅上，把她抱在腿上，唱起那些我盼望已久的熟悉的摇篮曲：《摇啊摇，宝贝》《闪啊闪，小星星》，还有《嘘，小宝贝》。我一下唱了七小节的《嘘，小宝贝》。为了这一时刻的到来，我早已不辞劳苦地把歌词全部记了下来。

当我把这些歌曲唱完，特莎依然没有睡着，但是看样子她有些困了。因此我起身走向婴儿床，想把她放好。然而，我刚刚把她放下，她就立刻坐了起来，并开始哭闹。好的，她还需要多花一点儿时间，我想。因此我重新坐了回去，又一次唱起那些催眠曲，等待她合上眼睛。但是，她就是不把眼睛合上，我只得又唱了一遍，这一次还多唱了一首《字母歌》。最后，她仿佛睡着了。我又一次把她放到婴儿床里，就在转身离开的时候，我踩到了一块吱呀作响的木地板。特莎立刻抬起了她那小小的脑袋，又一次大哭起来。

当初我许下诺言，只要自己的孩子想听多少催眠曲，我就能唱多少的时候，完全没有预料到会有如此毅力不肯入睡的孩子。或许，她等待一个属于自己的家等得时间太长了吧，因此她不想让我那么容易就蒙混过关。我不能眼睁睁地看着一个刚从孤儿院出来的孩子在哭泣中入睡。

然而，我很快就对那些歌曲产生了厌烦情绪，尽管以前我是那么期望演唱它们。单调并非是催眠曲不可或缺的因素——乏味可能有助于让孩子入睡——但是，我发现自己非常中意形式多样的音乐。我意识到，要想让女儿睡着，我会唱的那点儿摇篮曲根本就是杯水车薪。

在接下来的几个月时间里，我尝试了各种风格的催眠曲，为的是能把那些最好的歌曲加入到我的保留曲目中。我按照特莎的个人喜好程度，对每一首歌曲进行了评估：当她听到不喜欢的那首歌，她就会哭闹起来，并皱起眉头。当她喜欢的时候，就会这样说：“再唱一遍，妈妈。”

我试唱的曲目并不是哪一首都能荣登我们摇篮曲的排行榜。我很喜欢格什温的曲子，然而特莎可不是个爵士乐宝宝，因此《与你拥抱》最后与排行榜失之交臂。从另一方面来看，我发现把牛仔歌曲当做摇篮曲效果居然出奇的好。尽管它的歌词有一点儿伤感，然而那些高低起伏的节奏令人感觉很舒服，仿佛骑着一匹性情温驯的老矮马朝着夕阳走去。类似的歌曲有《红河谷》《我骑着一匹老花马》以及《在山谷下》等等。与此同时，那些在上个世纪早期风靡一时的伤感曲目，如《晚安，女士们》《让我叫你一声甜心》和《你是我的阳光》同样动听依旧，尽管我的女低音独唱与理发店里的四重唱不可同日而语，但也同样精彩。

此外，特莎特别喜欢我的母亲多年之前唱给我听的那些民谣——《大糖果山》《我在铁路上干活》，以及特莎最喜欢的一首歌——《猜谜歌》。她甚至立刻将这首歌篡改成了《樱桃歌》：

我把我的爱给了一颗樱桃，它没有硬核

我把我的爱给了一只小鸡，它没有骨头

我把我的爱给了一个故事，它没有结尾

我把我的爱给了一个宝宝，它不会哭泣

在唱过十一二首歌之后，特莎就会满含惬意地结束这一天，她那明亮的眼睛也会合上，接着我就能听到她逐渐深沉而有节奏的呼吸。我会轻手轻脚地把她放到**，然后悄悄地离开。又一天过去了，我们再一次战胜了清醒的时光。

我们就这样共同度过了无数个夜晚，这已经成了惯例。直到特莎最终懂得，纵然我把她独自一人留在**，我也不会离开她太久，并且只要她喊一声“妈妈”，我就会立刻出现在她的面前。

现在特莎已经六岁了，像这么大的孩子已经不能再抱在腿上了，因此，我在她的床头为她唱歌。现在，再也无须唱一整打的歌曲来哄她入睡了，一般情况下，只要一首就够了。

“今晚你想让我唱哪支歌？”我一边问她，一边抚摸着她的秀发。

“《樱桃歌》。”她经常这样回答，脸上挂有一丝略带倦意的微笑。于是，我就为她唱起那支爱无止境的甜美之歌：

樱桃花盛开的时候，它没有硬核

小鸡破壳而出的时候，它没有骨头

“我爱你”的故事，它没有结尾

宝宝睡觉的时候，它不会哭泣

在她进入梦乡之后，我还会再逗留片刻。我就坐在她的床边，心里赞叹着她可真是太美了，在客厅射过来的灯光的照耀下，她线条优美的面颊熠熠生辉，仿佛有一道月光洒在她柔滑黑亮的头发上。我在心里默默祈祷：这一刻永远不要停止。但是，没有过不完的童年。因此，我只能尽力让这份记忆永存。

心灵小语

生命中有一种爱是最深沉的、最浓郁的，那就是母爱。母爱有无数的方式，简简单单的一句话，一个微笑，一个点头……在凡俗的生活中，母亲正是以一些芥微小事来震撼我们的心灵。

词汇笔记

illuminating[ilju:mineiti?]adj.照亮的；启蒙的；照明的

The searchlights glared, illuminating the prison yard.

探照灯发出强光，照亮监狱场地。

painstakingly['peins, teiki?li]adv.费力地；苦心地

He was helped painstakingly into an armchair and he raised his hand in a familiar wave as the applause and whoops continued.

他被帮助着费力地坐进扶手椅，在持续不断的掌声和呼喊中，他抬起手习惯性地挥舞。

fuss[f?s]v.无事自扰；焦急；焦躁

Stop all this fuss and get on with your work.

别大惊小怪地闹了，继续干你的活儿去吧。

orphanage['?：f?nid?]n.孤儿院

I founded an orphanage last year and feel obliged to take care of those children.

去年我创办了一个孤儿院。我觉得有责任去照顾那些小孩。

小试身手

我在心里默默祈祷：这一刻永远不要停止。

译____________________________

为了这一时刻的到来，我早已不辞劳苦地把歌词全部记了下来。

译____________________________

又一天过去了，我们再一次战胜了清醒的时光。

译____________________________

短语家族

Tessa's little head popped up, and she began to wail.

begin to：开始

造____________________________

When they're sung by a solo alto instead of a barbershop quartet.

instead of：代替；而不是；不是……（而是）；而没有；而不

造____________________________