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At the time my son was born in 1956, I shared a hospital room with a young woman who bore a boy on the same day. Partly because my parents 46 a shop selling flowers, the room was soon 47 with the lovely scent of roses.
As the seventh floral arrangement was 48 , I was beginning to feel 49 , for no flowers had arrived for my roommate, Ann. She sat on the edge of her bed and leaned forward to admire the 50 bouquet. She was a pretty young woman, yet there was something about her large, brown eyes that made me think she had known too much 51 , too much sadness for one so young. I had the feeling she had always had to admire someone else’ 52 .
“I’m enjoying every 53 of this”, she said as though she had read my 54 and was trying to reassure me. “Wasn’t I the lucky one to get you for a 55 ?”
I still felt uncomfortable, however. 56 there were some magic button I could push to 57 the sadness in her eyes. Well, I thought, at least,I can see that she has some flowers. When my mother and father came to see me that day, I asked them to send 58 some.
The flowers arrived just 59 Ann and I were finishing supper.
“More flowers for you,” she said, 60 .
“No, not this time,” I said, looking at the 61 “These are for you.”
Ann stared at the blossoms a long time, not saying anything. She ran her 62 across the pale blue bouquets and 63 touched each of the sweet roses as though trying to engrave(刻画) them on her 64 .
“How can I ever thank you” she said softly.
I was almost embarrassed. It was such a little 65 on my part.
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At the time my son was born in 1956, I shared a hospital room with a young woman who bore a boy on the same day. Partly because my parents 46 a shop selling flowers, the room was soon 47 with the lovely scent of roses.
As the seventh floral arrangement was 48 , I was beginning to feel 49 , for no flowers had arrived for my roommate, Ann. She sat on the edge of her bed and leaned forward to admire the 50 bouquet. She was a pretty young woman, yet there was something about her large, brown eyes that made me think she had known too much 51 , too much sadness for one so young. I had the feeling she had always had to admire someone else’ 52 .
“I’m enjoying every 53 of this”, she said as though she had read my 54 and was trying to reassure me. “Wasn’t I the lucky one to get you for a 55 ?”
I still felt uncomfortable, however. 56 there were some magic button I could push to 57 the sadness in her eyes. Well, I thought, at least,I can see that she has some flowers. When my mother and father came to see me that day, I asked them to send 58 some.
The flowers arrived just 59 Ann and I were finishing supper.
“More flowers for you,” she said, 60 .
“No, not this time,” I said, looking at the 61 “These are for you.”
Ann stared at the blossoms a long time, not saying anything. She ran her 62 across the pale blue bouquets and 63 touched each of the sweet roses as though trying to engrave(刻画) them on her 64 .
“How can I ever thank you” she said softly.
I was almost embarrassed. It was such a little 65 on my part.
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