童年趣事记
那是去年冬天的一个寒冷的夜晚，我站在窗前，看着窗外的雪花在空中飘落。忽然想起自己小时候的生活，那种与同伴相处的美好记忆像一颗温暖的 seed 一样生根发芽。
记得那时候我和弟弟还是小学生，经常在院子里玩耍。有一天，我和弟弟发现一个小小的玩具箱，里面只有一个小熊玩具。它浑身雪白，但那双眼睛却明亮而好奇，就像我们小家伙那样充满好奇和疑问。弟弟兴奋地说："爸爸、妈妈，今天我们可以进去看看这个小熊吧！"我兴奋地点点头。
第二天一早，我们就跟着妈妈去院子里的花园里找那个小熊。可是花园里的玩具已经没有了，只剩下那颗积雪般的小熊被当成玩具被主人扔进河里了。弟弟看着那个沉入水中、身体几乎完全浸没的情况，心酸得眼泪夺眶而出。
"让我帮你洗洗吧！"妈妈一边忙，我一边想 ways。我灵机一动，蹲在水池边，用手指在水里搓出几个小水花来。弟弟见状，急忙跑过来，帮我把鱼儿捞了下去，又给我讲起了延年海游泳馆里的故事："那天我们去游泳馆，妈妈说如果我不小心就会变成什么形状的'丑小鸭'，我却把这游泳池当成了我的"实验室"，每天都要学习游泳的技巧。"
那天我和弟弟在游泳池里学了很多招式，虽然每次都是手忙脚乱，但父母总是在旁边笑看，好像在为我加油。渐渐地，我们的身体开始变得越来越灵活，游泳的速度也提高了。
天渐亮了，我们依依不舍地告别了延年海的游泳馆，转身往家走。弟弟趴在椅子上发着呆，我却把水花溅进了杯子里，边说边舔嘴唇。看着那个浑浊的眼睛，仿佛在思考：我的笑声是那样的清脆，那股甜味才是最令人回味的。
回到家，我打开手机，看到弟弟的脸有点红。那是一个特别刺耳的声音，"太烫了！"弟弟一边吃药，一边捂着嘴抱怨。我赶紧给他擦眼泪，告诉他爸爸在等他。
那天，妈妈终于回来了，她笑着对我说："我们继续玩延年海吧？"弟弟愣了一下，但很快反应过来："知道了。"我们再次一起学游泳的姿势，弟弟却因为被水花烫到了，眼睛变得红得像热锅一样。
看着厨房里翻腾着的延年海水，我突然明白了一切。原来成长不是简单的付出与努力，更多的是学会用心去感受世界，去发现生活中的美好，去享受这份"无价之财"——即与这个世界一起成长。
孩子：我在厨房里忙个不停
"叮铃铃，起床时间！叮铃铃"
闹铃声在厨房里回荡，我揉了揉眼睛。昨天早上她们要去玩敲门，还叫我一起去，我还没干过这种事呢。
这可不好，-bold怕刘思敏的"武力"。不过我心里生出一股莫名的不安越发感到不对劲。哎，要不是害怕刘思敏的"武力"我早就想一出游戏了。
我的内心那份不安并没有随着电梯的上升而消失反而更加沉重。12楼到了。刘思敏响我嘱咐道："你的工作十分重要，千万不要松手﹗切记。"
还没等我反应过来，他们就轻手轻脚的溜出电梯，像一个个训练有素的小贼似的悄无声息地来到个家门口等待头儿的指令。
"1，2，3……"刘思敏惊呼。听他这么一喊我们就顾不上洋洋了，就溜溜的逃了。
厨房里飘来阵阵臭味。我端着热腾腾的蛋糕转身准备吃起来，却见眼前一亮，一个奶油脸蛋扑在椅子上。别人看见我这个样子，都笑得合不拢嘴，直不起腰来。看到别人这样子，我也不好意思地笑了。
"蛋糕是怎么来的呢？记得爷爷说过苹果是从苹果树上摘的，那蛋糕要是从蛋糕树上摘的，为什么不说是蛋糕树上的奶油呢！"
妈妈递来我的蛋糕说："这是明天买的，给你一个惊喜哦。"我接过蛋糕，奶油滑落脸上，变成了一只小花猫。
"花猫？"周围的小女孩都笑得合不拢嘴。我抬头看着天空，阳光透过窗户洒进来，将我和那张涂满奶油的脸蛋映在了斑驳的玻璃上。
厨房里弥漫着一股淡淡的甜味，我感觉自己的肚子饿了。就在这时，妈妈回来了。
"今天是生日嘛？"妈妈笑着问。
我抬起头来："妈妈您不介意吗？"
"当然没问题。"妈妈摸摸我的头，笑得更开心些。
蛋糕的快乐已经传递到了每个人心里，而我只是一个在厨房里忙碌的小孩子。
undoing the death of a child
Once I was a kid, my parents would often ask me how to remember what happened during the school play. They'd try to help me with stories or dates, but sometimes it’d be too hard—especially if something happened way back in time. My mom would explain it to me once again: "It's important to keep track of everything we do because you won't always know how it all came together." But I remember one day when things got a bit different.
That day was September 30th, 2014. My dad was working in the living room, and my mom was at the kitchen counter. We were discussing what to watch for when it came time to leave, and she mentioned that something happened way back on that night. She pointed me towards a poster with "The End" written on it. She told me I shouldn’t worry about whether it was real or not.
I was still in high school then, so I wasn’t sure what “the end” meant anymore. But the idea of never worrying again seemed more and more familiar. When my mom said that, I couldn’t help but laugh. It made sense—a time when everything happened exactly as it should have. Even though we all knew better than to be around that night, this was still such a comforting thought.
But what about this memory? On September 30th, 2014, I remember being in my bedroom, watching the TV. My mom had pulled out a poster with "The End" written on it. She held it up to me and said, "You’ll never see that again." I was confused for sure.
The next morning, when I got ready, I opened my bedroom door and turned it towards the bathroom. There lay a box of tissues in my hand, labeled "to be discarded after the end of the year." My parents were sitting at their desk on the far side of the room.
I walked into the bathroom and climbed up to bed. The box looked familiar. That was... it wasn’t. It wasn’t paper towels or anything I’d seen before. My mom had pulled out that box, too, and she held it up to me. She said, "We’re going to be gone from this city by midnight." I watched as my parents walked away, leaving the box behind.
Then, when we finally got back home, I turned on the TV and saw a young girl playing with her toy train. The camera was fixed on the window above the bed—so close! She pulled out that same "The End" poster, looked at me in stunned silence, and said, "We never will see you again."
At first, I thought it was strange—why did my mom and dad show such concern for the end of the year? But now I could feel something inside. The worry they showed then turned into a sense of calm. And that is how we became adults.
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萧红《回忆鲁迅先生》教学设计第二课时（回忆鲁迅先生教案(人教版七年级下册)）
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