Although she told me not to talk to strangers, my mother always did. Whether we were at the checkout line, during a slow elevator ride or at the airports, football games or the beach, she would 1 conversations with people next to her.
While this habit may bring a 2 to my eyes now, it was rather embarrassing during my teenage years. Not everyone 3 warmly to my mother when she tried to spark a brief discussion. Some people would 4 offer her a tight-lipped smile before turning away. A few completely 5 her. Whenever I was with her during those times, I could see a hint of 6 in her eyes, but she'd simply shrug it off and we'd continue on our way.
More often than not, 7 , I would wander off, only to return and find her chatting with someone 8 . There were occasions when I was concerned that I'd lost her in the crowd, but then her singsong laugh would 9 me back to her side. Through these spontaneous(自发的) interactions, my mother taught me a valuable lesson—that even in the 10 exchanges, there exist common bonds that connect us.
One sad memory that is 11 in my mind is of my mother in the hospital, battling the breast cancer that had 12 her to mere 85 pounds. Although her life was nearing its end, she was smiling 13 and talking to her nurse about how to best plant tulip bulbs. I stood silently in the doorway, wanting to cry but feeling such a surge of love and warmth.
Now, whenever I find myself sharing a moment with someone, "Don't you just love it when …", I am 14 of my mother and the lessons she taught me about connection, kindness, and finding 15 in the simplest of interactions.
