In the morning, first, I wish John a happy birthday. His embarrassed smile made me know that I remembered his birthday and made him very happy. Maybe today won't be so bad.
By about three o'clock in the afternoon, I almost decided that birthdays were no big deal. Then, Mrs. Parmele was writing a mathematical equation on the blackboard, and I heard a familiar voice coming from the corridor. A voice I know is singing a birthday song.
By noon, I almost decided that my birthday was no big deal. At this moment, Mrs Pamerev was solving some mathematical equations on the blackboard, and I heard a familiar voice from the corridor. That's a birthday song.
After a while, my mother came in with a shiny cupcake counting candles. She had a beautifully wrapped gift under her arm with a red bow at the top.
After a while, my mother came in from the door, holding a tray of corrugated paper cakes, shining under the candle. She had a beautifully wrapped gift under her arm with a red bow on it.
When the whole class stared at me and demanded an explanation, Mrs. Palmer's high voice joined in. Mother found that John looked like a deer trapped in the headlights of a car. She put the cake and presents on his desk and said, "Happy birthday, John."
Mrs. Pamelev's voice was very high and she was caught in it. At this time, the whole class stared at me, as if asking me to explain. Mother found John like a deer illuminated by car headlights. She put the cake and presents on John's desk and said, "Happy birthday!" " "
My friend gracefully shared his cupcakes with the class and patiently took the tray from one table to another. I found my mother looking at me. She smiled and blinked when I bit the wet chocolate icing.
My friend John politely shared the cake with the class and patiently carried the plate from one table to another. I saw my mother looking at me. She smiled and winked at me when I was eating wet chocolate icing.
In retrospect, I can hardly remember the names of the same children in Amanome. Shortly thereafter, John Evans moved away, and I never heard from him again. But every time I hear that familiar song, I will think of that day, and its notes sound the truest: in my mother's gentle voice, in the shining light in a boy's eyes, in the sweetest smell of cupcakes. (End)
In retrospect, I can hardly remember the names of the children who spent their birthdays together. John? Evans moved away soon, and I haven't heard from him since. However, every time I hear that familiar song, I will think of the notes of the birthday song that I sincerely sang that day-in the gentle voice of my mother, in the shining eyes of a boy, and in the taste of the sweetest cake. (End)
This translation is dedicated to you and lovely mothers!