by Francesca Biller

Freshly cut grass was the smell I

most remember from my childhood neighborhood， mowed and 1）manicured by young dimpled boys before and after school， but mostly on weekends in between wide-eyed bike rides and 2）stick ball-playing in the street.

On any given day you might see Chris， Brent or Phillip wipe sweat from their brows with their youth-3）calloused hands as they whistled and mowed the lawns of the Anderson family， the Portners or the Wood bunch， with their 4）sprawling yellow house and seven lapping dogs.

“See you at the Pier after I get done，”Chris would yell to Phillip， whom we all called Philly.

Philly would not say anything， but would raise up one of his hands as he was a particularly good mower and wanted to earn his two dollars and fifty cents an hour to save up for a new 5）Schwinn bicycle.

The boys were about thirteen or fourteen at most， not yet men but no longer young-heeled babes who ran tirelessly after the ice cream truck for the cold comforts of childhood.

Whether or not kids were expected to do their fair share was not an idea that occurred to anyone on the streets where we lived.

My father often recalled his first job as a paper boy and then as a gas station attendant. He told us there was no greater feeling than working and getting “that first tip”， his first paycheck and buying a soda pop or comic book on his own dime.

My mother worked on her family farm， beginning at the age of four， and picked ripened coffee beans under the vast， widening skies of Hawaii during World War II. She worked with her four siblings while they sang made-up songs about school， their friends and the dreams they shared.

Philly eventually bought that bike and couldnt help but ride it in front of my house at least twice a day， while he jumped curbs and mussed up his hair on purpose just to make me look.

Brent was saving up to put himself through college， since his father told him that “an education had to be earned if it was to be learned at all.”

As for Chris， he spent all of his earnings on a 1969 Blue 6）Dodge Dart as soon as he was allowed to drive. When he got that car， all the girls in the neighborhood lined up each morning for a ride to school. Chris was smart.

No one I knew was given a car because they got good grades， because they behaved， or because“they simply existed as children.”

We all had chores， we were expected to have respect without rewards， and our parents 7）ruled the roost.

This meant that my sisters， my brother and I were all physically active. When we werent cutting grass， walking to the corner store to buy a gallon of milk for mom， or taking turns cleaning the bathrooms or sweeping out the shed， we played outside.

We knew it was time for dinner when the sun had nearly set， and that meant setting the table was a 8）tall order， as we scurried home sweaty and tired from hours of playing 9）dodge ball， 10）hopscotch and baseball games that we played without the cheers of our dads， because all of our dads worked.

All this work and play meant obesity was not a childhood 11）epidemic.

Neither was 12）ADHD， suicides due to bullying over the Internet， or 13）permanently curved spines because of over-texting and over-sexting.

There were no debates between children and their parents about buying the latest cell phone that parents could not even afford.

We didnt have a lot in the way of material things， but we were better for it.

As a kid， I still remember my annual trip to Sears to get my one pair of “back-to-school” shoes I was told had to last through the Holidays.

My girlfriends also showed off our two new 14）Marcia Brady dresses we were so proud of each fall， along with ribbons that decorated our braided hair we wore well through the second year of middle school.

新刈的草兒的氣息就是我兒時鄰里間最記憶猶新的味道。刈草的工作會由那些年紀輕輕的長著酒窩的男孩子在上學前或者放學后完成，不過大部分時候是在周末，在街頭天真無憂地騎自行車與棍球游戲之間的時段進行。

在某個日子，你可能會看到克里斯、布倫特或者菲利普一邊吹著口哨，一邊為安德森家、波特納家或者伍德家刈草。伍德家有間黃色大房子，還有七條伸著舌頭的狗。不時地，他們會用年輕卻起了繭子的手擦去眉宇間的汗水。

“我活干完了，就到碼頭找你啊?！笨死锼箷Ψ评蘸暗?，我們通常稱他為菲利。

菲利不答話，只是揚起他的一只手，因為他自己也是一位厲害的刈草好手，他希望專心賺他的2.5美元時薪，好攢起來買輛新的施文自行車。

這些男孩兒頂多十三到十四歲，還未成年，但也不再是那些嫩手嫩腳、不知疲倦地追著雪糕車來尋求童年清涼快樂的小孩了。

在我們生活的街道上，孩子們要不要做他們的分內(nèi)事這樣的問題可不會出現(xiàn)在任何人的頭腦中。

我父親常?；貞浧鹚牡谝环莨ぷ骶褪钱攬笸缓缶褪窃诩佑驼井敺諉T。他跟我們說，投入工作、賺到“第一筆小費”以及第一份薪水，用自己的一分一毫買一瓶汽水或者漫畫書，沒有什么比這些讓人感覺更棒的了。

我母親四歲起就在她們家的農(nóng)場幫忙，二戰(zhàn)的時候在夏威夷廣闊無垠的天空下摘熟了的咖啡豆。她和四個兄弟姐妹一邊工作，一邊哼著自己編的關于學校、關于朋友和共同夢想的歌兒。

菲利最后買到了那輛自行車，忍不住在我家門口每天至少轉(zhuǎn)悠兩次，為了讓我看見，他會躍過路緣，把頭發(fā)弄亂。

布倫特為能供自己讀完大學而攢著錢，因為他父親跟他說“要是一項教育真的值得去求學的話，那就得把學費掙回來?！?/p>

至于克里斯，他一到可以開車的年紀就花掉所有積蓄買了一部1969年產(chǎn)的藍色“道奇飛鏢”。他拿到車后，每天早上，附近的女孩子都排著隊兒要搭他的車上學?？死锼拐鎵蚵斆鞯摹?/p>

我認識的人中沒有誰因為取得了好成績或守規(guī)矩或因為“是爹娘的寶貝”而被獎勵一輛車。

我們都有家務活兒，大人們希望我們得到精神尊重而非物質(zhì)獎勵，我們的家長說了算。

那意味著我和兄弟姐妹們個個手腳都動個不停。我們?nèi)绻皇窃谖萃馔嫠?，那肯定就是在刈草，要不就是走路去街角商店給媽媽買上一加侖的牛奶，或者輪流打掃臥室、清洗棚屋。

我們知道太陽要落山的時候就是晚飯時間了，那意味著當我們玩了幾小時的躲避球、“跳房子”游戲和棒球后，滿身臭汗、累呼呼地跑回家時擺放餐具就成了件很痛苦的事兒。我們玩的時候，是沒有爸爸為我們吶喊助威的，因為所有的爸爸都得工作。

所有這些活兒和玩耍意味著肥胖不可能成為孩子們的流行病。

小兒多動癥也不存在，因為網(wǎng)絡欺凌造成的自殺事件，或者由于過度發(fā)短信、色情短信而造成的永久性脊柱彎曲也不存在。

小孩和父母不會因為那些連父母都買不起的最新款手機而爭吵不休。

在物質(zhì)上，我們沒有太多的東西，但我們過得更好。

小時候，我還記得每年我都要到西爾斯買一雙“上學用”的鞋子，家人跟我說過什么節(jié)日都靠這雙鞋子了。

我的女伴們也會炫耀我們的兩套新的瑪西婭·布蘭迪裙子，這些裙子每年秋天我們都引以為傲，還要配上頭上用來扎辮子的絲帶。這些，我們會好好地用到上中學的第二年。

Boys used to smirk at us with their striped short-sleeved shirts， 15）corduroy pants， sun-kissed hair and shy-flirted glances.

There was a feeling of optimism in the air； a kind of solid and steady 16）cadence that followed us because we allowed it to， and because our parents treated us as their children， not as their friends.

My kids are at that magical age now.

Their minds are still clear， their curiosity 17）intact， and there is no inkling of 18）apathy or ungrounded 19）angst.

They say they want to work； that they want to do something meaningful when they get older， and that they believe that “almost anything” is possible.

I believe them， and thats the best thing I can do as their parent.

But whats important is that they know they must believe in themselves if anything worthwhile is going to happen.

On the streets where we live now…there are not so many lawns to mow， safe streets to play on， or open-ended hours to enjoy the sweat-filled days of youth until dusk.

Somehow， the days of youth are shorter because we have allowed them to be. Our new techno-fevered and furious pitch that we have decided is a normal and healthy culture has robbed the living daylights right out of our children.

But however long their childhood lasts， it is theirs， not mine， and I know they will find their own way， just like Chris， Brent and Phillip did； my three siblings and I， and my parents and their parents before them who were part of 20）The Greatest Generation.

The greatest gifts I can give my children are the freedom and learned joys of physical and emotional 21）autonomy， peppered with hard-fought work， personal responsibility and the sweat-filled days that only come with being young， bare-faced and naive.

男孩們常常對著我們傻笑，身上穿著條紋短袖襯衣，燈芯絨褲子，頂著一頭陽光色的頭發(fā)，露出羞赧挑逗的眼神。

空氣中有一股樂觀的氣息，我們身后有一種堅實、穩(wěn)定的節(jié)奏，因為我們允許這種節(jié)奏存在，也因為父母待我們?yōu)槠渥优?，而不是朋友?/p>

我的孩子如今也到了這個神奇的年齡。

他們的頭腦依舊清晰，他們依舊好奇心十足，沒有一點感情冷淡或者無緣無故焦慮不安的跡象。

他們說他們想去工作，他們想大一點兒的時候干點有意義的事，他們相信幾乎一切皆有可能。

我相信他們，那是我作為母親能做的最好的事。

但重要的是，他們知道一旦有值得去做的事情發(fā)生了，他們必須相信自己。

如今，我們住的這條街上，需要刈草的草坪不多了，能夠安全地玩耍的街道或者能自由自在地享受揮汗如雨直到天黑的年輕日子也不多了。

不知何故，現(xiàn)在，年輕的日子短了，因為我們使然。我們將對新科技的癡迷和狂熱認定為一種正常而且健康的文化，這種文化將我們孩子鮮活的時光偷走了。

但不管他們的童年有多長，那是他們的童年，不是我的，我知道他們會找到自己的方式，就像克里斯、布倫特和菲利普那樣；像我和三個兄妹、我的父母和他們的父母那樣，他們都是“最偉大的一代”的一部分。

我能給予孩子們最好的禮物是自由以及從身心獨立中得來的快樂，其中伴以辛勤的工作、個人責任和揮汗如雨的日子，這些都只能從年輕、坦誠和天真中得來。

“Put your phones away， it is time to eat，” I said to my daughters one night as the 22）aroma of homemade spaghetti sauce blanketed our senses.

During dinner， sometimes I ask them what they learned in school； if they have any new friends， or if anything particularly interesting had happened they might want to share.

But usually we just sit in each others company， in the quiet and stillness of a family meal， enjoying the fleeting moments that I know they will remember together one day in concerted yearning and sweet 23）melancholy.

As I kissed one daughter on her windswept forehead after school yesterday， my heart swelled and my eyes teared as I knew my sleepless parented nights had not been in vain.

“I cant wait until college because Ill be able to choose the classes I want，” she said， with her heavy backpack in her arms and shoes naturally untied.

“That will be the best day of my life， and its only seven years away.”

As she continued to go on about college， and all of her innocence-filled life plans， all I could focus on were the words “only seven years away.”

Seven years away I thought.

Seven more glorious years to bask in the glow and the magic that is childhood.

“把你們的手機都拿開，到點吃飯了?！币惶焱砩希斘覀兗易灾埔夥坩u的香味充滿我們的嗅覺的時候，我對女兒們說道。

晚飯間，我有時會問她們在學校學到了什么；有沒有結識新朋友或者有什么想分享的特別有趣的事。

但通常我們只是坐在一起，靜靜地無聲地享用一頓家庭晚餐，享受著稍縱即逝的時刻，我知道有一天她們會一起在同樣的渴望和甜蜜的傷感中回憶這些時光。

昨天，放學后，當我親吻其中一個女兒那被微風吹拂過的前額時，我的心忍忍作痛，眼睛濕潤了，因為我知道我照顧她們的那些無眠夜晚沒有白費。

“我都等不及要上大學了，因為那樣我就可以選擇自己喜歡的課了?！彼f道，手臂掛著沉重的書包，鞋子很自然地松開了。

“那將是我人生最好的時候，還差七年而已。”

當她繼續(xù)說著關于大學，關于她空白人生的計劃的時候，我所有的注意力集中在“還差七年而已”這幾個字上。

還差七年，我想。

還有七個光輝的年頭可以沐浴在璀璨與神奇的事物之中，而那就是童年。