英语美文：爱如断臂

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　　爱如断臂

　　"But what if I break my arm again?" my five year-olddaughter asked, her lower lip trembling. I kneltholding onto her bike and looked her right in theeyes. I knew how much she wanted to learn to ride.How often she felt left out when her friends pedaledby our house. Yet ever since she’d fallen off her bikeand broken her arm, she’d been afraid.

　　"Oh honey," I said. "I don’t think you’ll break anotherarm."

　　"But I could, couldn’t I?”

　　"Yes,” I admitted, and found myself struggling for the right thing to say. At times like this, Iwished I had a partner to turn to. Someone who might help find the right words to make mylittle girl’s problems disappear. But after a disastrous marriage and a painful divorce, I’dwelcomed the hardships of being a single parent and had been adamant in telling anyone whotried to fix me up that I was terminally single.

　　"I don’t think I want to ride,” she said and got off her bike.

　　We walked away and sat down beside a tree.

　　"Don’t you want to ride with your friends?” I asked.

　　"And I thought you were hoping to start riding your bike to school next year,” I added.

　　"I was,” she said, her voice almost a quiver.

　　"You know, hon,” I said. "Most everything you do comes with risks. You could get a broken armin a car wreck and then be afraid to ever ride in a car again. You could break your arm jumpingrope. You could break your arm at gymnastics. Do you want to stop going to gymnastics?”

　　"No,” she said. And with a determined spirit, she stood up and agreed to try again. I held onto the back of her bike until she found the courage to say, "Let’s go!”

　　I spent the rest of the afternoon at the park watching a very brave little girl overcome a fear,and congratulating myself for being a self-sufficient single parent.

　　As we walked home, pushing the bike as we made our way along the sidewalk, she asked meabout a conversation she’d overheard me having with my mother the night before.

　　"Why were you and grandma arguing last night?”

　　My mother was one of the many people who constantly tried to fix me up. How many timeshad I told her "no" to meeting the Mr. Perfect she picked out for me. She just knew Steve wasthe man for me.

　　"It’s nothing,” I told her.

　　She shrugged. "Grandma said she just wanted you to find someone to love.”

　　"What grandma wants is for some guy to break my heart again,” I snapped, angry that mymother had said anything about this to my daughter.

　　"But Mom.”

　　"You’re too young to understand,” I told her.

　　She was quiet for the next few minutes. Then she looked up and in a small voice gave mesomething to think about.

　　"So I guess love isn’t like a broken arm.”

　　Unable to answer, we walked the rest of the way in silence. When I got home, I called mymother and scolded her for talking about this to my daughter. Then I did what I’d seen mybrave little girl do that very afternoon. I let go and agreed to meet Steve.

　　Steve was the man for me. We married less than a year later. It turned out mother and mydaughter were right.