雨中的记忆 Run through the rain

She had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful brown haired, freckle-faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the Earth, it has no time to flow down the spout.

她和妈妈刚在沃尔玛结束购物。这个天真的小女孩应该6岁大了，头发是美丽的棕色，脸上有雀斑。外面下着倾盆大雨。雨水溢满了檐槽，来不及排走，就迫不及待地涌涨上地面。

We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Wal-Mart. We all waited, some patiently, others irritated, because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I get lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

我们都站在沃尔玛门口的遮篷下。大家都在等待，有人很耐心，有人很烦躁，因为老天在给他们本已忙碌的一天添乱。雨天总引起我的遐思。我出神地听着、看着老天冲刷洗涤这世界的污垢和尘埃，孩时无忧无虑地在雨中奔跑玩水的记忆汹涌而至，暂时缓解了我一天的焦虑。

Her voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in, “Mom, let's run through the rain." she said.

小女孩甜美的声音打破了这令人昏昏欲睡的气氛，“妈妈，我们在雨里跑吧。”她说。

"What?" Mom asked.

“什么？”母亲问。

"Let's run through the rain!" She repeated.

“我们在雨里跑吧，”她重复。

"No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit." Mom replied.

“不，亲爱的，我们等雨小一点再走。”母亲回答说。