❤️我喝粥了，妈妈❤️
——献给母亲节
作者：青 木
小时候，
粥是晨光里最慢的一口，
也是妈妈眼中最硬的一条规矩：
“不喝完，不许去上学。”
我假装喝完，
冲出门，
最后一口，
总是在垃圾桶里解决。
那时候觉得，
粥是束缚，是烦，
是一碗让人迟到的
“妈妈的坚持”。
而现在，
我可以不再喝，
可以跳过早餐，跳过清晨，
跳过那个耳边不变的叮咛。
可我却发现——
咖啡、面包，都不如一碗粥。
只要有粥，我就想喝，
尤其是周末，尤其在最安静的时刻。
一口一口喝着，
总能喝到小时候的味道，
喝到厨房升起的蒸汽，
喝到那个站在灶前等我的妈妈。
粥还是那样的粥，
现在却无比可口，
那一口口温热里藏着的，
是妈妈不肯让我空着肚子
去面对世界的决心。
天上的妈妈，
你看到了吗？
我喝粥了——
是您的坚持，
让我坚强。
母亲节快乐，妈妈。
我永远爱您。
2025 母亲节
Mom, I Had My Porridge Today
—For Mother’s Day
By Greenwood
When I was little,
porridge was the slowest bite of morning light,
and the firmest rule in your eyes:
“No school until you finish your bowl.”
I’d pretend I drank it all,
rush out the door,
and the last mouthful
always ended up in the trash bin.
Back then,
porridge felt like a burden, a bother—
a bowl of “Mom’s stubbornness”
that always made me late.
But now,
I can skip it if I want,
skip breakfast, skip the morning,
skip the voice that used to echo in my ears.
And yet I find—
coffee and bread can’t compare.
If there’s porridge, I want it,
especially on weekends,
especially in the stillest hour.
With each spoonful,
I taste childhood again—
the rising kitchen steam,
the mother waiting by the stove,
watching me eat.
The porridge is the same,
but now it’s unspeakably warm.
In every mouthful,
I find your fierce tenderness—
your vow that I’d never
face the world on an empty stomach.
Mama, can you see me from the sky?
I had my porridge today.
It is your insistence
that made me strong.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.
I’ll love you always
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