一等奖作品：Mom
作者： Alice Jiang
As I stand over the cobblestone grave,
The gray sky slowly cackling and laughing, the rain as cold as ice
I place the jasmines carefully on top of the cold stone,
I stare into the dull color of the grave.
The gentle scent of the jasmine slowly breezes by.
I still remember the sound of Mom’s laughter, her eyes became stars
As we ran around the wheat fields together, and the wheat danced with us.
I still remember the taste of her turkey sandwiches and lemonade,
As I came home from school
I still remember the sight of Mom dusting and sweeping the kitchen
Humming softly to her favorite tune.
Oh, Mother
How I miss you so much.
I look down at the grave and a tear rolls out,
I still remember Mother’s last words
Be strong, put on a smile, and I’ll always be watching. I love you.
The rain stops.
I smile and say
I love you too, Mom.
中译文：妈妈（翻译：海云）
我站立在鹅卵石铺就的坟地，
灰色的天空慢慢地咧开嘴冷笑，雨水带着冰一样的寒意，
轻轻地把那朵茉莉放在冷冷的石头上，
凝视着那沉闷颜色的坟茔。
茉莉花的香味轻柔地随微风缓缓飘起。
还记得妈妈的笑声，她的眼睛像夜空中的星星
当我和妈妈在麦田里奔跑，麦穗儿与我们一起舞蹈。
还记得妈妈做的火鸡三明治和柠檬水的味道，
当我放学回家 的时候，妈妈在那里除尘和在厨房忙碌，
嘴里轻轻地哼着她最喜欢的歌曲。
哦，妈妈
我多么想念你！
低下头是你冰冷的坟墓，热泪从我的眼里滚落，
还记得妈妈最后的话语：
要坚强，保持微笑，我会一直注目着你，我爱你！
雨终于停了。
我笑着说：
我也爱你，妈妈！
（海云评：一个十二岁的孩子可用自己的心体会失去母亲的痛苦，并用文字写出思念母亲和母女之间真挚的爱！尤其是这一切都是虚拟的，作者的母亲听孩子读着这首孩子写给学校并得到高分的作文，感动得热泪盈眶。评审们也一定被小作者的文字和文字传达的真情所打动了，这首小诗，文字不多，却有情有景，并且情景交融，真情打动人心！而小小年纪已学会用纯粹创作的手法来抒发人间的真情，非常得难能可贵！所有的评审一致给这篇诗歌最高分数，获得一等奖实至名归。）
二等奖作品： My Mother and Me
作者：Lewis Wang
My mother informed me about this competition while I was watching a terrific documentary produced by National Geographic called Blackfish. As I paused to listen to my mom half-heartedly, I had a hard time deciding on whether I should write about my mother or my father because I believe they love me equally. Impulsively, I decided to procrastinate a little by continuing to watch the movie.
After finishing watching the documentary film, I decided to write about my mom.
As it turns out, Blackfish was a powerful little film about the treatment of killer whales in parks such as SeaWorld. Through the testimonials of former employees, we learned that in nature a baby whale never leaves its mother’s side its entire life until the mother dies. However, the corporate leadership of SeaWorld often passes “decrees” demanding the mother and the baby to be separated. By doing this, they can profit from selling the baby whale for millions of dollars. What moved me to write about my mom was the clip of a mother whale producing the most gut- wrenching cry in a desperate attempt to get her precious baby back.
Mother’s love comes in details.
Baby whales enjoy the time being close to their mother. They play happily with each other despite a few rebellious moments when the baby refuses to perform the correct trick their mother tries to teach. Just like the whales, human mothers have to deal with their own child’s behaviors and have the same interactions. Ever since I was young, my mom has worked hard to find the happy medium between a completely lax parent and a strict tiger mom. She pushes me at every opportunity while still providing me the free time to enjoy the pleasures of life.
Our famous president, Abraham Lincoln, once said that, “all that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” I strongly feel that Lincoln’s statement is applicable to everyone from humans to animals like the killer whale. Everyone owes their existence and upbringing to their mother. Mothers often sacrifice a great deal in order to bring up their offspring. I, for one, am not exempt from this phenomenon of motherly love because my mom changed her career from medicinal profession to computer engineering to support me.
My mother tries to incorporate important life lessons in me on a daily basis. From the weekly email about safety in different areas to trying to milk a life lesson from cheesy movies and television shows, she snatches at every opportunity. However, it is often the more subtle efforts that carry the greatest weight. For example, she would require me to write down my weekly experience into a journal. I absolutely hated it because it was boring and time consuming. Nonetheless, she pushed me continually to persevere and taught me to be patient. Efforts paid off. In fifth grade, one of my essays was given the top score of a five. It was sent to the rest of the state to be used as a standard of excellence.
I believe that Mark Twain’s quote, “my mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she actually enjoyed it,” is extremely applicable to my own mother. As hard as it is to admit, I do have a few deficiencies. For example, I am notoriously clumsy to the point that if you tried to create a metaphor for me it would be a comparison to a drunken new born calf. I can’t even walk straight down the hallway. My mom saw me bumped into the wall three times in a short walk from one room to another. My family has completely lost track of how many dishes and cups I had knocked over. Lots of my mother’s favorite dining pieces have endured the terrible fate of shattering into a scatter of razor sharp shards. I can imagine how frustrated she gets from these fiascos. However, I can tell she enjoys watching my clumsiness to certain extent when I run into things. One time, after my mom dropped me at school, walking towards the school building, I got clothes-lined by a sign in front of my school. Through the closed car door, I can hear my mom laughed. Later, she admitted that she laughed so hard that she cried and her sides hurt. At the time, I would grimace in pain and endure the humiliation, but upon reflecting upon the events I would realize how ridiculous I looked. As my mom would constantly put it: “你的眼睛是不是长脑勺后边了?”
Going back to Abraham Lincoln’s quote, everything I am, will be, and aspire to be are all thanks to the hard work and efforts of my mother. She encourages me to achieve more while always reminding me to be humble with the Chinese proverb: “天外有天山外有山.” My mother is the Adriadne, the woman that helps Theseus through Daedalus’s labyrinth, in my life. She is the Roman roads that serve as the foundation to European cities for me.
During a wild Killer whale capture off the coast of Washington state, the whales did everything they could to protect their young from the humans. However, once they were separated by fishing nets, the mothers could easily leave. Instead they opted to stay and beg the captors to release the young. Once the babies were taken away, four mothers gave up on life and drowned themselves. Mothers not only giving life to us, in the extreme situations, they are willing to sacrifice their lives for us.
Finally, I would like to point out that I purposely wrote the essay on my mother’s birthday.
Happy birthday mom!
三等奖作品：To My Parents
作者：Annie Guo
When mom mentioned about Overseas Window Mother’s Day writing contest, my initial reaction was "no way." It wasn't because I didn't want to or that I was against it; it was simply because I had no idea at all where to start. It’s just not one of those things that can be put into words easily, and it still isn’t. I would consider it fortunate enough if I was able to put my love and appreciation into words that represented even just one percent of what I feel deep down in my soul. I can only hope that, in some way, this one percent will touch my parents’ heart and whisper to them the words that I have kept locked up in my heart for past several years.
From the moment I was born, to when I take my last breath, I will have met and dealt with hundreds, perhaps thousands of people. But how many of them will truly make a difference in my life? How many will I stay in touch with no matter where I am? How many will I meet and grow to love as the years draw on? Out of the countless people I will come into contact with throughout my life, none of them will matter as much as the only two people that have been with me since day one, through each and every day, whether stormy or sunny.
My earliest memories of my parents trace back to when I was around three years old. I vaguely remember we lived in Denver Colorado, there were high mountains, many fun playgrounds and hiking trails. At that time my mom took me on a trip to China. Although I do not recall clearly, she told me that the whole trip there and back, I cried almost non-stop. She had a bad migraine and the passengers around probably shot looks of irritation towards us. I can’t I blame them, since I have grown to be a teenager who isn’t exactly a big fan of babies herself. Looking back at this, I realize that my mom could have left me behind with my dad, who had stayed home in Denver back then. It would’ve been the easier choice. But she decided to take with her a bawling baby, because she loved me too much to leave me behind, even if it was just for a month, even if it meant that the trip would be much less tranquil. In the past, I had never thought much of this event, but now that it’s crossed my mind, I realize that it’s just one of the numerous times that my mom’s actions reflected her love for me.
From elementary school through middle school, my parents have continued to take me for lessons, classes, clinics, and clubs. I’ll be the first to admit that I was never psyched about any of them at the beginning. Unfortunately, learning new things has never made me jump with excitement. I can still remember my first swimming lessons. I was scared to death. I’d sometimes cry before climbing onto the car, reluctantly heading to YMCA. I was scared of drowning and exploring new things. I was extremely frustrated with them at the time. Why couldn’t they just let it go? But my parents insisted that I kept taking my lessons. I remember how excited my parents were with every little progress I made along the way and to this day, I’m extremely grateful. How would I ever be able to fully enjoy the ocean, a lake, or just a sunny day at the pool with my friends, if it hadn’t been for my parents, who pushed me to try new things? To all the love and patience they stored and nourished in their hearts in hopes that one day, their little girl will become a versatile lady.
Day after day, month after month, year after year. I know that no matter how much time I spend longing to grow up, to become independent, someday I will regret growing up. In just four years, I’ll be in college. I’ll notice for the first time that something is missing. I’ll sink into a corner of my dorm, with a phone clutched in my hand. I will have called home several times, each time reaching the voice mail. Mom probably is out shopping for groceries, without me helping pushing the grocery cart for her, while dad perhaps works somewhere in the back yard. And not too long after I started my career (if I land on the right one), I’ll have my own house separate from my parents’. I’ll be busy with my own job and I’ll have my own family to care for. Sure, I’ll call or visit my parents on weekends and Holidays, but it will never be the same, never be like what it is now.
As silly as it sounds, it kills me a little on the inside, each time I find myself taking them for granted. I remember my fifth grade teacher Miss. Olsewski telling the class that we should always be nice to our mothers, because you never know when things may change. Her own mother had passed away when she was a teenager, and she told us that whenever she witnessed one of her friends being rude to their mothers, it made her sad on the inside. “What are you doing?” I recall her asking, pretending she was talking to one of her friends, “Be nice to your mom. You’re lucky you still have her.” More than three years later, her words continue to echo in my head. I can still picture her telling us to be nice to our mothers. But I don’t want to lie; there have been times when I was not nice to my mom or dad.
It’s natural for teenagers to rebel and argue against their parents from time to time, sometimes even yell at them, and I’m definitely no exception. Maybe it has something to do with hormones, I’m not sure. All I know is that I’m anything but perfect, and I’m sure that my parents are more aware of that than anyone else. I have made mistakes in the past, I continue to do so, and I know that I will probably make more in the future. My flaws and mistakes taint my personality and actions like paint splattered on a pure white canvas in some wrong ways. But for every ugly splatter of paint, I know that my parents are there to forgive. To me, I believe that’s the main characteristic that’s so special about parents. Friends would most likely walk away at the sight of too many flaws or mistakes, too much splattered paint. The love between parents and a child however is eternal. I know that my parents will always be there to hand me a brand new canvas.
If there was one thing that I could tell my parents, it would be this: For every time I yell at you, all I really want to do is calm down and talk things out. For every time I ignore you, all I really want to do is hug you. For every time I do something wrong or get into trouble, all I really want to do is to take it back, but also for you to understand me, and for us to understand each other. For every time I make you mad, I want to tell a joke and lighten the mood a bit. For every time I disappoint you, all I really want to do is say I’m truly sorry. But for every time I tell you I love you, even if it’s not often, I want you to know that I mean it more than you will ever know.
| 海云 (2014-09-08 16:10:37) |
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请二等奖和三等奖得主的家长尽可能把孩子的作品翻译成中文，以让我们中国的读者们能欣赏你们孩子的文章。一等奖得主的作品因为是诗歌很短，我很快地翻译成中文，另两篇文章太长了，我实在抽不出时间翻译。 另：一等奖的小作者不是我的孩子。 |
| 予微 (2014-09-10 02:51:50) |
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这小作者真是有才情！ |
| 予微 (2014-09-10 03:00:57) |
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海云，你如果改改标题，可能清楚点。 中译文：妈妈 作者：Alice Jiang (海云翻译） |
| 海云 (2014-09-10 12:18:05) |
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予微说的是，我是先翻译，却忘了翻标题，后来才加上去的，便没仔细想，落在了最后。 这就改过来。 |