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在我记忆里，我从没有看见门前那棵树开花，即使是百花齐放的春天，它也只是绽一些泛绿点缀那单调的躯干而已。每次看到别人尽情欣赏家树盛开的鲜花，享受微风送来的阵阵花香的时候，父母总是深情地看着门前的那棵树，一直唉声叹气，然后满怀希望地看着我。我总想逃避那深情的目光，却只能露出一丝涩涩的笑。然后调皮地爬上门前那瘦弱的树顶，却仿佛攀上了珠穆朗玛峰似的自豪，发出阵阵大笑。父母看着我，也欣慰地笑了。
In my memory, I never saw the tree blossoming in front of the door. Even if it was spring blossoming, it was just a little greenish dotted with the monotonous trunk. Every time I see other people enjoying the flowers of the family tree and enjoying the scent of flowers brought by the breeze, my parents always look at the tree in front of me deeply, sigh and sigh, and then look at me with hope. I always wanted to evade that affectionate gaze, but only a hint of shy smile. Then he climbed up to the thin treetop in front of the door, but it seemed to climb up to the pride of Everest and burst into laughter. My parents looked at me and laughed with joy.