在日记的最后，我祝福儿子勇敢地去探索这个世界，无论成功还是失败，妈妈永远爱你，相信你。我还附上了最能代表我心情的一首诗，那是黎巴嫩诗人纪伯伦（Kahlil Gibran）的《致我们终将远离的子女》（On Children）：
Your children are not your children.
你的儿女，其实不是你的儿女。
They are the sons and daughters of Life\'s longing for itself.
他们是生命对于自身渴望而诞生的孩子。
They come through you but not from you,
他们借助你来到这世界，却非因你而来，
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
他们在你身旁，却并不属于你。
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
你可以给予他们的是你的爱，却不是你的想法，
For they have their own thoughts.
因为他们有自己的思想。
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
你可以庇护的是他们的身体，却不是他们的灵魂，
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
因为他们的灵魂属于明天，
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
属于你做梦也无法到达的明天。
You may strive to be like them,
你可以拼尽全力，变得像他们一样，
but seek not to make them like you.
却不要让他们变得和你一样。
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
因为生命不会后退，也不在过去停留。
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
你是弓，儿女是从你那里射出的箭。
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
弓箭手望着未来之路上的箭靶，
and He bends you with His might， that His arrows may go swift and far.
他用尽力气将你拉开，使他的箭射得又快又远。
Let your bending in the archer\'s hand be for gladness,
怀着快乐的心情，在弓箭手的手中弯曲吧，
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
因为他爱一路飞翔的箭，
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
也爱无比稳定的弓。
读完厚厚的日记，儿子敲开我的房门，张开双臂，给了我一个紧实的拥抱：“谢谢你，妈妈，我爱你！”他的眼角还有泪痕，我的眼睛也湿润了。
