Some sounds bring it all back: the high-pitched squeal of my mother's teakettle, the rumble of the washing machine in the basement and the jangle of my dog's license tags as she bounded down the stairs to greet me. Our time together seemed devoid of the gerrymandered schedules that now pervade my life.如今，每当我听到一些声音，像母亲那把茶壶水开时发出的尖叫声，地下室洗衣机的隆隆声，还有， 我那条狗蹦下台阶冲我摇头摆尾时它脖子上那牌照发出的撞击声，便会勾起我对往事的回忆。和母亲在一起的岁月，全然没有充斥于我的生活中的、事先排定的虚情假意的日程表。
One lunchtime when I was in the third grade will stay with me always. I had been picked to be the princess in the school play, and for weeks my mother had painstakingly rehearsed my lines with me. But no matter how easily I delivered them at home, as soon as I stepped onstage, every word disappeared from my head.我永远忘不了在我上三年级时的那一顿午饭。在那天之前，我被学校选中，要在一个即将演出的小剧中扮演公主的角色。一连好几个礼拜，母亲总是不辞辛劳地陪着我，一起背诵台词。可是，不管在家里怎么背得滚瓜烂熟，只要一上舞台，我的脑子里就成了一片空白。
Finally, my teacher took me aside. She explained that she had written a narrator's part to the play, and asked me to switch roles. Her word, kindly delivered, still stung, especially when I saw my part go to another girl.终于，老师把我叫到了一边。她说剧中旁白这个角色的台词已写好了，想把我替换下来当旁白。尽管老师这些话说得和和气气，可还是刺痛了我的心，特别是当我发觉自己扮演的公主角色让另外一个女孩顶替时，更是如此。