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The Remembrance of Lilacs 紫丁香的回忆
◎ Ramya
The family had just moved to Rhode Island, and the young woman was feeling a little
melancholy1 on that Sunday in May. After all, it was Mother’s Day—and 800 miles separated her
from her parents in Ohio.
She had called her mother that morning to wish her a happy Mother’s Day, and her mother had
mentioned how colorful the yard was now that spring had arrived. As they talked, the younger
woman could almost smell the tantalizing2 aroma3 of purple lilacs hanging on the big bush outside her
parents’ back door.
Later, when she mentioned to her husband how she missed those lilacs, he popped up from his
chair. “I know where we can find you all you want,” he said. “Get the kids and come.”
So off they went, driving the country roads of northern Rhode Island on the kind of day only
growing all around. They went past small villages and burgeoning6 housing developments, past
both sides. There wasn’t a lilac bush in sight.
“Come with me,” the man said. “Over that hill is an old cellar hole, from somebody’s farm of
years ago, and there are lilacs all round it. The man who owns this land said I could poke12 around here
anytime. I’m sure he won’t mind if we pick a few lilacs.”
Before they got halfway13 up the hill, the fragrance14 of the lilacs drifted down to them, and the kids
started running. Soon, the mother began running, too, until she reached the top.
There, far from view of passing motorists and hidden from encroaching civilization, were the
towering lilacs bushes, so laden15 with the huge, cone-shaped flower clusters that they almost bent16
double. With a smile, the young woman rushed up to the nearest bush and buried her face in the
flowers, drinking in the fragrance and the memories it recalled.
While the man examined the cellar hole and tried to explain to the children what the house must
have looked like, the woman drifted among the lilacs. Carefully, she chose a sprig here, another one
there, and clipped them with her husband’s pocket knife. She was in no hurry, relishing17 each blossom
as a rare and delicate treasure.
man drove, the woman sat smiling, surrounded by her flowers, a faraway look in her eyes.
When they were within three miles of home, she suddenly shouted to her husband, “Stop the car.
Stop right here!”
The man slammed on the brakes. Before he could ask her why she wanted to stop, the woman
was out of the car and hurrying up a nearby grassy19 slope with the lilacs still in her arms. At the top of
the hill was a nursing home and, because it was such a beautiful spring day, the patients were
outdoors strolling with relatives or sitting on the porch.
The young woman went to the end of the porch, where an elderly patient was sitting in her
wheelchair, alone, head bowed, her back to most of the others. Across the porch railing went the
flowers, in to the lap of the old woman. She lifted her head, and smiled. For a few moments, the two
family. As the car pulled away, the woman in the wheelchair waved, and clutched the lilacs.
“Mom,” the kids asked, “who was that? Why did you give her our flowers? Is she somebody’s
mother?” The mother said she didn’t know the old woman. But it was Mother’s Day, and she seemed
so alone, and who wouldn’t be cheered by flowers? “Besides,” she added, “I have all of you, and I
still have my mother, even if she is far away. That woman needed those flowers more than I did.”
This satisfied the kids, but not the husband. The next day he purchased half a dozen young lilacs
bushes and planted them around their yard, and several times since then he has added more.
I was that man. The young mother was, and is, my wife. Now, every May, our own yard is
remember that smile on a lonely old woman’s face, and the kindness that put the smile there.
那家人才刚刚移居到罗得岛，5月的那个星期天，这个年轻的女人感到有点忧郁。毕竟，
这一天是母亲节——而她却与俄亥俄州的父母相隔800英里。
她那天早上给母亲打电话，祝母亲节日快乐。随后，她的母亲向她提起，因为春天已经
来了，所以院子变得多么缤纷多彩。在她们通话的时候，年轻女人几乎可以嗅到悬垂在父母
后门外大灌木丛上的紫丁香诱人的香气。
后来，当她向丈夫提起她是如何怀念那些紫丁香时，他突然从椅子上一跃而起。“我知道
在哪儿能找到你想要的东西，”他说，“带上孩子，走吧。”
于是，他们就出发了，驱车行驶在罗得岛北部的乡村小路上，那种天气只有５月中旬才
会有：闪亮的阳光、蔚蓝色的晴空以及生机勃勃、随处可见的绿意。他们穿过一座座小村庄
和一座座拔地而起的房屋，穿过废弃的苹果园，来到了树林和灌木丛掩映的老农场。
他们在那里停下来。车道两边长满了浓密茂盛的雪松、杜松和白桦树。眼前没有一棵紫
丁香。
“跟我来，”男人说，“翻过那座小山，有个老地窖，几年前是一个人的农场，四周长满了
紫丁香。这块土地的主人说我随时都可以到这儿来。我肯定他不会介意我们采几束紫丁香
的。”
还没等他们到达半山腰， 紫丁香的芬芳已经向他们飘了过来。于是，孩子们开始奔跑。
很快，那位母亲也开始跑起来，直至到达山顶。
在那里，远离了过往司机的视野，避开了纷扰的文明世界，高耸的丁香花丛开满了硕大
的圆锥形的串串花束，几乎把花茎压成了两折。那个年轻女人微笑着冲到最近的一处花丛，
把脸埋在花丛中，啜饮着芳香，沉醉在重新唤起的记忆中。
在那个男人察看地窖，试图向孩子们解释这座房子必定是什么样子的时候，那个女人不
由自主地漫游于紫丁香花丛中。她小心翼翼地从这儿摘一枝，那儿挑一束，然后用丈夫的袖
珍小刀将它们剪下来。她不慌不忙，像欣赏稀有珍宝一样欣赏着每一朵花。
然而，他们还是回到了车上，走上了回家的路。孩子们唧唧喳喳说个不停，那个男人驾
着车，那个女人坐在车里面带微笑，她的周围放满了鲜花，眼神里充满着向往。
当他们离家不足三英里时，她突然向丈夫大声喊道：“停车，就在这里停车！”
那个男人踩住了刹车。还没来得及问为什么，女人就已经下了车，匆匆走向附近的草
坡，怀里仍抱着紫丁香。山顶上是一家疗养院，因为这是一个美丽的春日，所以患者正在室
外和亲友溜达，或坐在门廊上悠闲地晃荡。
那个年轻女人走到门廊的尽头，只见那里有一个上了年纪的病人坐在轮椅里，独自一
人，低着头，背对着其他人。年轻女人越过门廊栏杆，将鲜花放在了老太太的膝盖上。老太
太抬起头，露出了笑脸。两个女人聊了一会儿，都十分兴高采烈。随后，那个年轻女人转身
跑回到家人的身边。当汽车开动时，坐在轮椅里的那个女人挥手告别，手里紧紧地握着那束
紫丁香花。
“妈妈，”孩子们问，“那是谁呀？你为什么要把我们的花送给她？她是谁的母亲呀？”母
亲说，她不认识那个老太太。但今天是母亲节，她显得那么孤独，而鲜花会让任何人快乐起
来的。“再说，”她补充道，“我拥有你们，而且我还有自己的母亲，即使她离我很远。那个女
人比我更需要那些鲜花。”
孩子们得到了满意的答案，但她的丈夫却没有。第二天，他买了半打紫丁香幼苗，栽到
了院子四周，而且从那时起，每隔一段时间，他就会增加一些。
我就是那个男人。那个年轻的母亲，是我的妻子。现在，每年的五月，我们自家的院子
里都会散发出浓烈的紫丁香的芬芳。每逢母亲节，我们的孩子都要采撷紫丁香花束。每年我
都记得那位孤独的老太太脸上露出的笑容，以及笑容里的慈祥和善良。
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