They were the best cookies I’d ever baked, the ingredients more expensive than a state dinner’s, a mix of my son’s favorite recipes.
这是我烘焙过地最好的曲奇，比国宴上使用的食材更加昂贵，综合了我儿子最喜欢的食谱。
I wrapped each cookie in plastic, sealed the box, affixed the customs declaration form, and presented the parcel to the postal clerk.
我把每一块曲奇都装入塑料袋，封了盒子，加盖了海关申报单，拿着包裹来到寄送柜台处。

Destination: Afghanistan. She pointed to an uncompleted section of the form. “If non-deliverable: Abandon; Return; Redirect.” If non-deliverable—an incomprehensible phrase. I stood stone-faced.
目的地：阿富汗。她指了下申报单上没有填完的部分。“如果无法送达：丢弃，寄回，转寄”。无法送达，让人费解的短语。我面无表情。
“My son’s in the military,” she said quietly. “You can check Redirect, then write Chaplain to redistribute at his discretion.” Our mother eyes met. I nodded. Thank you.
“我的儿子在军队”她平静的说道。“你可以在转寄名那一栏填牧师，转寄的地点由牧师决定”。都是做母亲的人，我们目光对视，她心领神会，我点点头，谢谢你。

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