在日記的最后，我祝福兒子勇敢地去探索這個世界，無論成功還是失敗，媽媽永遠愛你，相信你。我還附上了最能代表我心情的一首詩，那是黎巴嫩詩人紀伯倫（Kahlil Gibran）的《致我們終將遠離的子女》（On Children）：

Your children are not your children.

你的兒女，其實不是你的兒女。

They are the sons and daughters of Life\'s longing for itself.

他們是生命對于自身渴望而誕生的孩子。

They come through you but not from you,

他們借助你來到這世界，卻非因你而來，

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

他們在你身旁，卻并不屬于你。

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

你可以給予他們的是你的愛，卻不是你的想法，

For they have their own thoughts.

因為他們有自己的思想。

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

你可以庇護的是他們的身體，卻不是他們的靈魂，

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

因為他們的靈魂屬于明天，

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

屬于你做夢也無法到達的明天。

You may strive to be like them,

你可以拼盡全力，變得像他們一樣，

but seek not to make them like you.

卻不要讓他們變得和你一樣。

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

因為生命不會后退，也不在過去停留。

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

你是弓，兒女是從你那里射出的箭。

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

弓箭手望著未來之路上的箭靶，

and He bends you with His might， that His arrows may go swift and far.

他用盡力氣將你拉開，使他的箭射得又快又遠。

Let your bending in the archer\'s hand be for gladness,

懷著快樂的心情，在弓箭手的手中彎曲吧，

For even as He loves the arrow that flies,

因為他愛一路飛翔的箭，

so He loves also the bow that is stable.

也愛無比穩(wěn)定的弓。

讀完厚厚的日記，兒子敲開我的房門，張開雙臂，給了我一個緊實的擁抱：“謝謝你，媽媽，我愛你！”他的眼角還有淚痕，我的眼睛也濕潤了。