Mother's gift
I grew up in a small town where the primary school was a ten-minute walk from my house．When the noon bell rang, I would race breathlessly home．My mother would be standing at the top of the stairs, smiling down at me．
One lunchtime when I was in the third grade will stay with me always．I had been picked to be the princess in the school play, and for weeks my mother had rehearsed my lines so hard with me. But no matter how easily I acted at home, as soon as I stepped onstage, every word disappeared from my head. Finally, my teacher took me aside. She explained that she had written a narrator's part to the play, and asked me to change roles. Her word, kindly expressed, still hurt, especially when I saw my part go to another girl.
I didn't tell my mother what had happened when I went home for lunch that day. But she sensed my pain. Instead of suggesting we practise my lines, she asked if I wanted to walk in the yard.
It was a lovely spring day and the rose vine was turning green. Under the huge trees, we could see yellow dandelions（蒲公英）in the grass in bunches, as if a painter had touched our landscape with a bit of gold. I watched my mother casually bend down by one dandelion. "I think I'm going to dig up all these weeds," she said, pulling it up by its roots. "From now on, we'll have only roses in this garden."
"But I like dandelions," I protested. "All flowers are beautiful—even dandelions."
My mother looked at me seriously. "Yes, every flower gives pleasure in its own way, doesn't it?" she asked thoughtfully. I nodded, pleased that I had won her over. "And that is true of people too," she added. "Not everyone can be a princess, but there is no shame in that." Relieved that she had guessed my pain, I started to cry as I told her what had happened. She listened and smiled reassuringly．
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"But you will be a beautiful narrator," she said,
After the play, I took home the flower.
