My husband and I are taking a trip back to my childhood home, deep in the Kansas countryside. As far as I knew, no one lived in it after we hurriedly 1 to another city so my father could take a job there.
The old two-storey farmhouse mixes in a cloudy late-autumn sky. After stepping through the old door, I wait for my 2 to adjust(适应) to the darkness . Flowered wallpaper still 3 to the broken walls. Mother loved 4 , inside and out. When there was less 5 to put on the table during hard times, she balanced it out with fresh flowers.
The 6 makes sounds with each step. This is a risky business, but it's my last chance to say 7to the place my brother and I 8 . It was a happy time. Our 9 worked, played together and loved one another.
In the 10, I recall Mother's Home Comfort stove (火炉) and the heavy oak table that filled the centre of the room. That's where we 11 and talked as a family.
12, I jump up at the sound of a car horn (喇叭). My husband is getting 13. "Goodbye, old house. Thanks for staying here and 14me," I say as I move slowly to the door. I wish I could 15 something with me, but there's nothing left. Then my foot 16 something in a pile of rubbish. I put my hand into the dirt and my 17 close over a piece of metal.
When I 18 what it is, tears run down my cheeks. Mother 19 a few cents from the egg money each month to save up for a belt buckle(扣环) for my father's birthday. Father 20 it when we moved. Holding the buckle with words — My Family's Love to my chest, I run back down the road with my lost treasure.
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