Night after night, she came to help me sleep, even long after my childhood years.
I don't remember it first started making me a little angry- my mom's hands pushing my hair that way. But it really made me ( comfortable), for they felt rough (粗糙的) against my young skin. (final), one night, I shouted at her, "Don't do that anymore. Your hands are too rough!" She didn't say anything, she never did it again.
Years later, I missed my mother's hands and her goodnight kiss on my face. I'm not a little girl any more. My mom is her mid-seventies，and her rough hands are still doing things for my family and me.
Now my own children have grown up. It was late on Thanksgiving Eve. As I slept in my bedroom, a familiar hand ran across (I) face to push the hair from my head. Then a kiss, ever so (soft), touched my brow(额头).
(take) my mom's hand, I told her how sorry I was for the night I shouted at her. But my mom didn't know what I was talking about. She had forgotten it long ago.
That night, I fell (sleep) with the new appreciation(感激) for my mother's caring hands. And guilt(内疚) that I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found.
