爸爸

爸爸，这个名词，我想一年叫不了多少次，因为一年中有大部分时间不能和他相处在一起，可是，我从来都觉得他在我身边，因为他留给了我的手心一份温暖。

在炎热的候车室里，拥挤的人群将空气中的温度又升了升，让人喘不过气来。广播里动听的女声响起，爸爸起身拿着公文包向检票口走去，刚走了一步，回头看见还没有行动的我，说了声:“快点，检票了。”便顺手牵起了我的手，我不知所措地应了声:“哦。”爸爸的手很大，他的大手覆盖在我的小手上，薄茧磨搓着我的皮肤，一阵暖流涌入了我的全身。一路上，谁也没有说话，爸爸只是牵着我的手，熟练地穿梭在人群中，手松了，就再紧一紧，就这样，从未放开过。

现在，爸爸离我更遥远了，每次看着相册中，那那重叠在一起的手，心里的兴奋似乎又回到了从前，那时的笑容很天真，很幼稚，可我还想那样再笑一次。

我想再牵爸爸的手，再牵一次，找回手心里的那份感觉，然后深深地刻在心里，不再遗忘。

我想再牵爸爸的手，那样，我就不会孤独地寻找他的身影，迷失在人群中。

我想再牵爸爸的手，因为我知道，只要爸爸牵着我，我就可以放心大胆地走，他的大手包围着我的小手，同时也包围着我的心。

我知道我长大了，若是在大街上看到我和爸爸牵手，一定会被笑话，可是我却不会介意，因为在爸爸眼中，我永远是他的女儿，需要被他呵护着长大;他永远是我的爸爸，即使我长大了，懂事了，他还是能给我温暖和鼓励。

多想再牵爸爸的手呀，希望他的手能给我力量，让我成功地走过人生的每一片荆棘与每一道坎坷;希望他的手能给我鼓励，让我从每一次失败和绝望中振奋起来;希望他的手能给我动力，让我有勇气度过生命的每一次春夏秋冬……

我想，亲情是永远无法被代替的，家人之间的爱是恒久不变的，即使许多年以后，直至爸爸的那双手老了，皱了，我还是一直牵着，不放开……

英语翻译：

Dad, this term, I don’t think I can call it many times a year, because I can’t get along with him most of the year, but I always think he’s by my side because he left a copy in the palm of my hand. warm.

In the hot waiting room, the crowd of people raised the temperature of the air again, making people breathless. The beautiful female voice on the radio sounded, and my father got up and took a briefcase and walked towards the ticket gate. He just took a step and saw me who hadn’t taken any action. He said, "Hurry up, the ticket is checked." He took me by his hand. I replied at a loss: "Oh." Dad's hand is very big, his big hand covers my small hand, and the thin calluses rubbed my skin, and a warm current poured into my body. Along the way, no one spoke, my dad just took my hand and walked through the crowd skillfully. When he loosened his hand, he tightened it tightly again. Just like that, he never let go.

Now, Dad is farther away from me. Every time I look at the photo album, the excitement in the overlapping hands seems to return to the past. The smile at that time was naive and childish, but I still wanted to laugh like that again. once.

I want to hold my father's hand again, hold it again, to find the feeling in the palm of my hand, and then to engrave it deeply in my heart, and never forget it again.

I want to hold my father's hand again, so that I won't look for him alone and get lost in the crowd.

I want to hold my father's hand again, because I know that as long as my father is holding me, I can walk boldly with confidence. His big hands surround my little hands and at the same time surround my heart.

I know that when I grow up, if I see my dad holding hands on the street, I will definitely be laughed at, but I won't mind, because in the eyes of dad, I will always be his daughter and need to be taken care of by him to grow up; He will always be my father. Even if I grow up and become sensible, he can still give me warmth and encouragement.

I want to hold my father’s hand again. I hope his hand can give me strength and let me successfully go through every thorny and bumpy life in my life; I hope his hand can give me encouragement and let me overcome every failure and Cheer up in despair; I hope his hands can give me motivation and give me the courage to spend every spring, summer, autumn and winter of my life...

I think that family affection can never be replaced. The love between family members will last forever. Even after many years, until Dad’s hands are old and wrinkled, I still hold on and don’t let go...