昨天，悠丫丫問：“媽媽，你能幫我看看這篇作文嗎？”

心想，今天怎麼那麼抬舉你老媽啊？啥時候寫東西需要讓咱過目了呢？心中雖犯疑惑，嘴上還是忙不迭地答應：“好啊”。

湊上前去，映入眼帘的題目是“A Leap of Faith”，大腦高速運轉，試圖揣測一下內容，這leap 在腦子裡轉了幾圈，反饋回來的是一串：？？？...

還是直接進入主題吧，張嘴就開始朗讀：“I wiped my sweaty palms on the back of my silky dress. The claps of the audience….”

正讀得起勁，覺得寫得也有點意思，女兒在邊上發話了，“媽媽，你只能在心裡讀。”

“嗯？！為什麼呀？”

“這是心理活動的描寫。大聲讀出來就沒有味道了。”

“哦?!”

默默地細細地讀完了。

“不錯，寫得不錯，”順手哈格了一下女兒，“媽媽都能感受到你在台上那幾分鐘faith的升華了。”

我提了個問題：“可怎麼這麼短， 才一段？”

女兒說：“這是一種寫作的style，叫 snapshot writing. 字數限制在255個之內”，接着叨叨，“老師要把這篇作文送去參加 writer’s showcase  的比賽。”

“那好啊。媽媽就先收藏了。”

丫丫想從老媽這兒就寫作水平得到指教，是沒指望了。老媽所能做的，就剩下鼓勵了。 

A Leap of Faith

            I wiped my sweaty palms on the back of my silky dress. The claps of the audience boomed out like thunder, drumming in my ears, acting like a steady beat propelling me to my fate. The harsh click of my heels intimidated me in the brief silence before I took my seat at the piano. I bathed in the golden light for just a second as the panic struggled to overtake me. I forced my hands up to stroke the ivory keys and I took a deep breath. In the moment that I played the first key, everything was brilliantly clear and beautiful, exhilarating like jumping off a cliff. It was a leap of faith that I would remember, remember exactly how my fingers moved in their patterns. It was a leap of faith that I would remember the sickening sweet quality of the beautiful melody and the absolute rush of my fingers flying in the climax of the piece. I couldn’t see any of the people watching me from the audience. It was a good thing. I knew if I switched my focus to something else for just a second, I would lose the trance I was in and the music would be tarnished and broken. The humming of the blood in my ears and flutters in my stomach were coming to a stop. The clapping came again, comforting this time and I floated back to earth.