爱的小盒子
The Golden Box
?佚名／Anonymous
The mysterious golden box was tied with crimson ribbon and sat upon a shelf above the sideboard in the dining room.
During my childhood, I would often wonder where it had come from and why it was never opened. From time-to-time, I would see my parents look upon that golden box and smile. Sometimes I would climb upon a chair to get a closer look, but would never touch it for fear I would spoil something special.
When I was grown and off on my own, the memory of that box faded. However, I would come home to visit and see that small treasure sitting in its usual place and the mystery would come alive again.
I soon married and had children of my own. But each time we would visit my parents’home, I would spot that golden treasure and wonder what story was held within. Many years passed as that box continued to sit with its mysterious contents, undisturbed.
The tragic loss of my father happened one spring day. Our friends and family gathered to mourn the loss of the biggest hero in my life. He was the one I thought would never die.
After my father’s funeral, I found my mother in their room—on the bed they had shared for so many years, holding that treasured box in her delicate hands. With tears in her eyes and a lifetime of memories in her heart, she carefully untied the ribbon and opened that golden treasure. On a yellowed piece of paper were written these words:
My Love, I go far away.
I have to go.
I cannot stay.
My love for you
I will hold dear,
Until that time I can hold you near.
So I ask, Darling, wait for me
While I am far across the sea.
’Til I return, Dear, just know this
I leave this box sealed with a kiss.
All My Love,
Frank Then my mother told me this story: My parents met in high school when their best friends set them up on a blind date. As my parent’s friendship grew, their love also grew. They had planned on marrying as soon as they graduated from high school but “Uncle Sam” had other ideas.
Before my father went off to war, he wrote those words and placed them in that golden box and tied it with the crimson ribbon as a token of his everlasting love for my mother. He asked that she open the box only if she knew he would not be coming home.
As those months passed, their love, faith and prayer sustained them through that difficult time until they would be together again. When my father finally returned from the war, they married. However, Mom kept that box unopened as a remembrance of their love and devotion during that hard time in their lives.
After my father passed away, I saw my mother slowly decline. She had lost the zest for life she’d once had when my father was alive. I knew she was dying of a broken heart because her true love never returned.
Soon, I found myself in my old family home holding that golden box. But instead of a crimson ribbon, it was now tied with a blue one. And with that blue ribbon came another mystery.
As I untied the ribbon I thought of all those wonderful years my parents and I had shared. They had given me a lifetime of love and caring, and I knew I would feel that love for the rest of my life. When I lifted the lid and looked inside, I found that yellowed paper placed there so many years ago and a new page written in my mother’s own hand. It read: My Dear Son,
The first time I held you, my precious boy,
My heart was filled with so much joy.
As I watched you grow from a boy to a man,
How thankful I am and I know it’s so true,
You’re a wonderful son and I’ll always love you.
Mom
