My shock and embarrassment at finding Mother in tears on Wednesday was a perfect index of how little I understood the pressures on her. Sitting beside her on the couch， I began very slowly to understand.

    "I guess we al have to fail sometime，" Mother said quietly. I could sense her pain and the tension of holding back the strong emotions that were interrupted by my arrival. Suddenly， something inside me turned. I reached out and put my arms around her.

    She broke then. She put her face against my shoulder and sobbed. I help her close and didn't try to talk. I knew I was doing what I should， what I could， and that it was enough. In that moment， feeling Mother's back racked with emotion， I understood for the first time her vulnerability. She was still my mother， but she was something more： a person like me， capable of fear and hurt and failure. I could feel her pain as she must have felt mine on a thousand occasions when I had sought comfort in her arms.

    A week later Mother took a job selling dry goods at half the salary the radio station had offered. "It's a job I can do，" she said simply. But the evening practice sessions on the old green typewriter continued. I had a very different feeling now when I passed her door at night and heard her tapping away. I knew there was something more going on in there than a woman learning to type.

    When I left for college two years later， Mother had an office job with better pay and more responsibility. I have to believe that in some strange way she learned as much from her moment of defeat as I did， because several years later， when I had finished school and proudly accepted a job as a newspaper reporter， she had already been a journalist with our hometown paper for six months.

    The old green typewriter sits in my office now， unrepaired. It is a memento， but what it recalls for me is not quite what if recalled for Mother. When I'm having trouble with a story and think about giving up or when I start to feel sorry for myself and think things should be easier for me， I roll a piece of paper into that cranky old machine and type， word by painful word， just the way mother did. What I remember then is not her failure， but her courage， the courage to go ahead.

    It's the best memento anyone ever gave me.

    NEW WORDS

    anticipation n.  expectation

    anticipate vt.

    issue n.  发行物（刊物的）一期

    tuck vt. put or push into a desired convenient position so as to hold tightly； draw together into a small space 塞（进）；卷（起）

    bound vi. move along quickly by jumping or leaping movements 跳跃

    flip v.  turn or move quickly or with a jerk

    tight a.  drawn， fixed or fastened together firmly 紧的，牢的ad. firmly， closely

    couch n.  a long comfortable seat with a back and arms on which more than one person may sit； sofa 长沙发椅

    approach v.  come near or nearer（to）

    cautiously ad. very carefully 细心地，谨慎地

    cautious a.

    type vt. write （sth.） with a typewriter

    line n.  a row of words in a poem； a row of words on a page of writing or in print （诗、文的）一行

    helpless a.  unable to look after oneself or take action to help others， powerless

    assume vt. take as true without actual proof； suppose 假设，主观认为

    ranch n.  a very large farm for raising horses， cattle or sheep 大牧场，大农场

    nursery n.  a place where small children are temporarily cared for 托儿所

    day nursery n.  a place where small children are cared for during the day