中国曾是我的一个梦。一个遥不可及的梦。从小到大,父母、师长不时强调:大陆是我们的故土家园。他们告诉我,这里不是我的家,我的家在海峡对岸那一片广大的土地上。但是不管我怎样向往对岸的秀丽山川,渴望有一天能步履其上,俯仰于其间,这个家毕竟是遥远的、陌生的,难以产生一种对家的眷恋。1949年,我的母亲,一个生在深宅大院里的独生女,跟着父亲渡海来台,过去被人伺候的生活,突然失去了。父亲跟着单位,经常跑动,母亲守着我们几个孩子, China was once my dream A distant dream. From small to large, parents, teachers from time to time stressed: the mainland is our homeland. They told me that it is not my home here, my home is on a vast expanse of land across the Strait. But no matter how I aspire to the beauty of the other side of the mountains, longing for one day to walk on it, pitch in the meantime, after all, this home is distant, strange, it is difficult to produce a home to the attachment. In 1949, my mother, an only child born in a courtyard of a deep house, came to Taiwan as her father crossed the sea and suddenly lost her life. Father followed the unit, often running, the mother guarding several of our children,