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Every year on my birthday, from the time I turned 12, a white gardenia was delivered to my house in Bethesda, Md. No card or note came with it. Calls to the florist were always in vain -- it was a cash purchase. After a whole I stopped trying to discover the sender’s identity and just delighted in the beauty and heady perfume of that one magical, perfect white flower nestled in soft pink tissue paper. 自打12岁起，每一年在我生日那天，一枝洁白的栀子花便会送到马里兰州贝塞斯达镇上我的家，不附名片，不附便条。多次打电话询问花店，均无所获，盖因系现金支付。此后，我不再去查问送花的人是谁了，只是尽情感受那枝裹在粉红色绢纸中的纯白花朵的魔力，享受它的瑰丽与浓郁芳香。

But I never stopped imagining who the anonymous giver might be. Some of my happiest moments were spent daydreaming about wonderful and exciting but shy or eccentric to make known his or her identity. 但是我对谁是匿名送花人的猜测从未停止过。我最快乐的某些时刻，便是充分发挥自己的想象力，揣测大概有那么一个人，魅力十足，却又过于腼腆或怪癖而不愿透露姓名。

My mother contributed to these imaginings. She’d ask me if there was someone for whom I had done a special kindness who might be showing appreciation. Perhaps the neighbor I’d help when she was unloading a car full of groceries. Or maybe it was the old man across the street whose mail I retrieved during the winter so he wouldn’t have to venture down his icy steps. As a teenager, though, I had more fun speculating that it might be a boy I had a crush on or one had noticed me even though I didn’t know him. 冒出这许多遐想，也有我母亲的一份功劳。她问我是否替谁做了件特别的好事，人家用这种方式表达谢意。也许是邻居吧，我帮她一块儿卸过满满一车的杂货。抑或是马路对面的那个老头，寒冬里我帮他取回邮件，免除他不得不走滑溜溜的冰路的危险。然而，正值花季之年的我，更乐意猜想那送花人也许是我暗恋着的男孩，或钟情于我我却全然不识的人。

When I was 17, a boy broke my heart. The night he called for me the last time, I cried myself to sleep. When I awoke in the morning, there was a message scribbled on my mirror in red lipstick: “Heartily know, when half-gods go, the gods arrive.” I thought about that quotation from Emerson for a long time, I left it where my mother had written it. When I finally went to get the glass cleaner, my mother knew everything was all right again. I don’t remember ever slamming my door in anger at her and shouting, “You just don’t understand!”Because she did understand. 我17岁那年，一个男孩使我心碎。他最后一次打电话给我的那个晚上，我哭成了个泪人儿，不知何时睡去。翌日清晨醒来，我看到镜面上用红色唇膏潦草地写着这么几个字：“半神离去，真神到来。切记。”爱默生的这句话让我琢磨良久，并把母亲写的这句话留在镜子上，直到我的心灵创伤最后愈合。当我最终去拿玻璃清洁剂时，母亲明白一切又恢复正常了。我不记得自己对母亲发过脾气，关门砰嘭作响，还扯着嗓门大声吼叫：“你根本不理解！”这实在是因为母亲太知我心了。

One month before my high-school graduation, my father died of a heart attack. My feelings ranged from grief to abandonment, fear and over-whelming anger that my dad was missing some of the most important events in my life. I became completely uninterested in my upcoming graduation, the senior-class play and the prom. But my mother, in the midst of her own grief, would not hear of my skipping any of those things. 再有一个月我就要高中毕业了，偏偏在这时父亲因心脏病离开了人世。我的情绪波动起伏，时而悲哀凄凉、自暴自弃，时而又恐惧万分、怨气冲冲。我一生之中的一些大事父亲是无缘目睹了。对于临近的毕业盛典，还有毕业班的演出和舞会，我变得一点都没兴趣。母亲虽然仍然沉浸在悲恸之中，却执意不许我置身于那些活动之外。

The day before my father died, my mother and I had gone shopping for a prom dress. We’d found a spectacular one, with yards of dotted swiss in red, white and blue. It made me feel like Scarlett O’ Hara, but it was the wrong size. When my father died, I forgot the dress. 父亲病逝前一日，我和母亲一起去商店买参加舞会的衣服。我们挑中了一件非常醒目的衣服，是用许多友印有红、白 、蓝三色小圆点儿的细薄麻纱缝制的。它让我感觉自己像郝思嘉，但是尺寸不对。父亲病故后，我把那件衣服给忘了。

My mother didn’t. The day before the prom, I found that dress – in the right size – draped majestically over the living room sofa. It was presented to me – beautifully, artistically, lovingly. I didn’t care if I had a new dress or not. But my mother did.She wanted her children to feel loved and lovable, creative and imaginative, imbued with a sense that there was magic in the world and beauty in the face of adversity. In truth, my mother wanted her children to see themselves much like the gardenia – lovely, strong and perfect – with an aura of magic and perhaps a bit of mystery. 但母亲未曾淡忘。举行舞会的前一日，我发同那件衣服华丽端庄地搭在客厅的沙发上，大小正合适。衣服是以这种方式展现在我的眼前：靓靓丽丽，赏心悦目。我不在乎自己是否要添件新衣，但母亲在乎。母亲希望自己的孩子能够感受到人间的情暖，招人喜爱，思维灵活。有想象力，相信世间的奇迹和逆境中的美好。事实上，母亲期盼自己的孩子视己如洁白的栀子花：可爱、健壮、完美，有股魔力般的香味和一点儿神秘色彩。

My mother died ten days after I was married, I was 22. That was the year the gardenias stopped coming. 我婚后10天，母亲撒手人寰。当时我22岁。就在那一年，再没有人送来洁白的栀子花了。

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