文字难度：★★
I wouldn’t buy that woman a Mother’s Day card, if my life depended upon it,” said the woman standing in the greeting card aisle at 1)Wal-Mart.
I looked up and saw a look of total disgust and disappointment.
Having been dropped off at a 2)Florida orphanage at age four, I never knew what it felt like to have a mother or a father. Never once had I received a hug or a kiss from my parents. That portion of my life is a total blank. 
She looked up, saw me looking at her and screamed, “Just what are you looking at 3)idiot?”
“Sorry 4)Ma’am. I never had a mother, and I 5)was taken aback by your words.”
“If you want that worthless woman, you can have her,” she replied.
I reached over and picked up a nice looking card, opened it and began to read, “Thank you just for being my mother.”
“Do you think your mother would like that card? Mine would, I think,” I said.
“Do you know what it is like to be 6)yelled at for years, and never be told that you are loved?” she asked.
“My mother didn’t care enough about me to yell. She just took me to the orphanage and that’s where I stayed until I grew up,” I replied.
“Don’t you hate her?” she asked.
“Oh, I can’t hate her. She’s my mother. Being a mother is a position to be respected, even if your mother is not a very nice person,” I told her.
The woman stood there shaking her head.
Then she looked me straight in the eye and stared as hard as she could.
I looked down at the floor and said, “I know your mother might have done a lot of things that you dislike. It appears you almost hate the woman. But I can tell you this from experience, that disliking her, or even hating her, feels nowhere near as lonely as never having known a mother at all—good or bad. At least, you feel something. I feel nothing! It’s all just a large blank of loneliness inside my heart, and that’s how I’ll feel until I die.”
The woman stood there for several seconds. Slowly, she reached out, took the card from my hand, smelled it, and placed it in her cart.
After she left, I picked out a nice card for my mother. I took it home, signed it, and I placed it with the other Mother and Father’s Days cards bought throughout the years.
Their address is the same as mine. They live in the file cabinet inside a folder marked “UNKNOWN.”
即使我要靠送卡片才能过上好日子，我也不会买一张母亲节贺卡送给那个女人。”一位女士这样说道，她站在沃尔玛商场里摆放贺卡的架子前。
我抬起头，看到一张充满厌恶和失望的脸。
四岁那年，我被遗弃在佛罗里达州的一家孤儿院里。我从来不知道拥有母亲或者父亲会是什么感觉。我从未得到过父母的一个拥抱、一个亲吻。我生命的这部分完全是一片空白。
那位女士抬起头，看见我在注视着她，便尖叫起来：“你这个傻子在看什么？”
“对不起，夫人。我没有母亲，你说的话让我大吃一惊。”
“如果你想要那个没用的女人做母亲，我让给你好了。”她回答道。
我伸手挑了一张漂亮的贺卡，打开并念起上面的文字：“谢谢您，就因为您是我的母亲。”
“你觉得你母亲会喜欢那张贺卡吗？如果我有母亲，我想她会喜欢的。”我说。
“你知道多年来一直忍受她的吼叫，并且从未听她说过她爱我，那是什么感觉吗？”她问。
“我母亲根本不在乎我，更没有对我吼叫过。她把我送到了孤儿院，之后我一直呆在那里，直到长大成人。”我回答说。
“你不恨她吗？”她问。
“噢，我不能恨她。她是我的母亲。身为母亲，就应该受到尊重，即使你的母亲不是一个很好相处的人。”我告诉她。
女人站在那里，摇头。
然后她紧紧地盯着我的眼睛。
我低下头，看着地板说道：“我知道，你母亲也许做了很多令你不开心的事，你看起来几乎对她怀恨在心。但是，我可以凭我的经验告诉你，讨厌她，甚至是恨她，绝对不会像根本不知道自己的母亲是谁那么孤独。不论你的母亲是好还是坏，至少你会感觉到一些东西，而我什么都感觉不到。我的内心深处，只感到巨大的空白和孤独。这种感觉会一直持续到我死去的那一刻。”
女人在那里站了好几秒钟。她慢慢地伸过手来，拿走我手上的贺卡，闻了一下，把它放进了购物车。
她离开以后，我又挑了一张漂亮的卡片，准备送给我的母亲。我把它带回家，签上名字，然后把它与多年来我所买的那些母亲节和父亲节卡片放在一起。
这些卡片上的收件人地址和我的地址相同。我把它们放在文件柜里的一个文件夹里，文件夹上写着“不详”。