The gentleness of the palm, in my heart, it is the blue sky.
Memory, the mother is favourite than the palm of your hand with me. She always put her left hand with my right hand, after careful observation contrast, smiled and said: "my baby's hand is big, is really good." I can feel her hand in the mind have a special kind of gentle, let me warm, but I don't know the reason why she do this, ask her, she just laugh, too.
Grade life let me become very busy, I spend less time with my mother, no longer and she repeated the repeated one thousand times more than the palm of your game. Even if occasionally say a few words with my mom, content are all related to learning. My eye with the mother's eyes met once in a while, I will quickly escape, because the heart ? in her eyes
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