After saying my prayers I would wrap myself up in the bedclothes. My heart would feel light， peaceful， and happy， and one dream would follow another. Dreams of what？ They were all of them vague， but all of them full of pure love and of a sort of expectation of happiness. Usually， also， there would be some favorite toy — a china dog or hare stuck into the bed-corner behind the pillow， and it would please me to think how warm and comfortable and well cared — for it was there. Also， I would pray God to make everyone happy， so that every one might be contented， and also to send f？ine weather tomorrow for our walk. Then I would turn myself over on to the other side， and thoughts and dreams would become jumbled and entangled together until at last I slept soundly and peacefully， though with a face wet with tears.
Do in after life the freshness and light-heartedness， the craving for love and for strength of faith， ever return which we experience in our childhood’s years？ What better time is there in our lives than when the two best of virtues — innocent gaiety and a boundless yearning for affection — are our sole objects of pursuit？
Where now are our ardent prayers？ Where now are our best gifts — the pure tears of emotion which a guardian angel dries with a smile as he sheds upon us lovely dreams of ineffable childish joy？ Can it be that life has left such heavy traces upon one’s heart that those tears and ecstasies are for ever vanished？ Can it be that there remains to us only the recollection of them？
快樂的，快樂的，不再回來的童年時代啊！怎能不讓我熱愛和珍視對你的回憶呢？這些回憶讓我精神亢奮、心靈歡快，是我無限樂趣的源泉。
有時，我會回憶起流逝的歲月。那時跑不動了，我就在茶桌旁那把高背安樂椅上安逸地坐下來；夜深了，我早就喝光我杯裏的牛奶，迷迷糊糊地合上眼睛，靜坐在那兒聆聽媽媽在同什麽人說話，她的聲音是那麽婉轉優美！那聲音不停地在我的心靈深處**漾，讓我想起那段美妙的時光。我用迷糊的睡眼渴望地看著媽媽的臉。忽然，媽媽的身影逐漸變小，她的麵孔縮小成了一個小點。可是，我依然可以看到她，她笑眯眯地瞥了我一眼。不知什麽緣故，我喜歡看見媽媽變得這麽小的樣子。我眨了眨雙眼，她的樣子變得和瞳人裏的小孩兒一樣大了。後來我被驚醒了，畫麵也不見了。我半眯著眼睛，舉目四望，努力想使夢中的景象再現，卻一點兒也想不起來了。我站起來，又馬上愜意地躺回安樂椅上。