【推荐1】“Have you checked the oil in the car?” my father used to say to me, his version of “Hello, hope you are well.” Sometimes our phone calls would begin with an inquiry about the oil and end with an inquiry about the oil, with not a lot in between.

Fathers have a lot of love to give, but it’s often supplied through the medium of practical advice. The affectionate phrase “You made my life better from the moment you were born” may be rarely heard, but there is the more common “I’ll hold the ladder while you get the leaves off the roof.”

Why can’t we fathers just say “I love you” or “It’s great to see you” ? The point is: That’ s exactly what we are saying. You just have to translate from the language that is Fatherlish. Listen closely enough and the phrase “I love you” can be heard in the lengthier “I could come around Saturday and replace the silicon seal around the base of your toilet because I reckon that thing is getting really smelly.”

When I was 17, I went on my first road trip. My father stood on the corner in the predawn of a cold morning to bid us farewell. “Highways are dangerous,” he said, “so don’t try overtaking anything faster than a horse and buggy. And take a break every two hours. And every time you stop for gas, you really should check the oil.” At the time we thought his speech was funny and would chant “horse-and-buggy” every time I floored the accelerator.

Dad’s long gone now. But after all these years, I realize that had I owned a copy of the Fatherlish-to-English dictionary, I’d have understood that the speech my friend and I so casually mocked was simply Dad’s attempt at affection.

【推荐2】I will always remember my mother's last few days in this world.

On February 14th, 2000 my class went on a field trip to the beach. I had so much fun. When we returned to school, my teacher told me to go to the headmaster's office. When I got into the office, I saw a police office. Suddenly I realized something was wrong. The police office told me what had happened and we went to pick my sister up. After that, we went to the hospital and waited. Time went slowly. Finally, we got to see our mother. It was terrible.

On the next day, the headmaster came and told my two teachers what had happened. I was taking a rest that day. I knew it had something to do with my mother. I kept thinking that she either died or had gotten better. How I wished that she had gotten better. When my teacher took me outside, my sister ran up to me. She started crying, “She's gone. Teresa, mommy's gone. She's dead.” I couldn't believe it. We jumped into the car and drove straight to the hospital. Most of my family were there. The silence was terrible. I knew I had to say goodbye.

Today when I look back, I still miss my mother very much, but I know that I will live. My mother was a strong mother, who had the biggest heart. My mother was an angel walking on the earth. I will always remember her as living. When someone is asked who their hero (英雄) is, they usually say someone famous, like Michael Jordan or Britney Spears, When someone asks me who my hero is,   I tell them, my mother. My mother lives every day. That is what makes her a true hero.

【推荐3】My Grandpa Forgets Who I Am

A few days ago I visited my grandfather in hospital. He has Alzhemier’s—a degenerative disease that usually starts slowly and gets worse over time. I thought I was prepared to see him. I knew chances were slim that he'd actually recognize me.

He didn’t. As a matter of fact, he had no idea that he even had grandchildren. But he was excited that somebody came to visit him. I tried to explain to him who I was. But after he told me multiple times that he didn’t have grandchildren, I gave up. And my heart broke into a million little pieces.

I was tired of explaining things to him. So I just smiled. He smiled back. It's a genuine smile. Like a long time ago, when he’d take me by the hand and made this big world a little bit less scary for me. Now I have to take his hand.

We sat in silence for a little while, before he told me to call my grandma. This was the first time I had tried so hard to hold back tears. My grandma died four years ago and he didn't remember. He thought she was stuck on her way to pick him up.

My grandpa used to be a strong, hard-working man. He was the person you turned to when you needed your car fixed, your tires changed or something heavy to be carried. Sadly, that man left this world a long time ago, and left behind a man that is lost and scared.

I want to help him. I want to make him feel better. I want to tell him about his old life, and how great it was. So I sat with him and I held his hand, and every once in a while I told him how good he looked and how much I liked the color of his shirt and how it brought out the blue in his eyes. I told him that my grandma was on her way whenever he asked about her, and I made sure the glass in his hand was always filled with water.

I can’t take away his pain. I can’t help him remember. I can’t make the disease go away. All I can do is hold on to the memories — hold on for both of us.

【推荐1】In the United States, when one becomes rich, he wants people to know it. And even if he does not become very rich, he wants people to think that he is. That is what “keeping up with the Joneses” is about. It is the story of someone who tried to look as rich as his neighbors.

The expression was first used in 1913 by a young American called Arthur Momand. He told this story about himself. He began earning $125 a week at the age of 23. That was a lot of money in those days. He got married and moved with his wife to a very wealthy neighbourhood outside New York City. When he saw that rich people rode horses, Momand went horseback riding every day. When he saw that rich people had servants, Momand and his wife also hired a servant and gave big parties for their new neighbours.

It was like a race, but one could never finish his race because one was always trying to keep up. The race ended for Momand and his wife when they could no longer pay for their new way of life. They moved back to an apartment in New York City.

Momand looked around him and noticed that many people do things just to keep up with rich lifestyle of their neighbours. He saw the funny side of it and started to write a series of short stories. He called it “Keeping up with the Joneses” because “Jones” is a very common name in the United States. “Keeping up with the Joneses” came to mean keeping up with rich lifestyle of the people around you. Momand’s series appeared in different newspapers across the country for over 28 years.

People never seem to get tired of keeping up with the Joneses. And there are “Joneses” in every city of the world. But one must get tired of trying to keep up with the Joneses because no matter what one does, Mr Jones always seems to be ahead.

【推荐1】It was a cold winter. The wind blew all night and the snow was blinding. When the morning came, my three children and I got up and made our way to the windows. As we looked out of the window, we saw that the hen house was gone. Our three hens had been blown away.

I looked at the emptiness outside. Then I saw all three chickens sitting around the edge of a white bucket. How was this violent wind not blowing them into the field beyond?

I quickly pulled on my husband’s long snow pants and heavy winter coat, wrapped a scarf and stuck my feet into very large boots.

I shouted at the wind as it blew. I was alone, except my children. They stared out of the window into the vast white sea of snow and their eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Outside I heard the sound of my boots as I walked against the wind.

The snow circling around me, I steadily made my way to the soft cluck-cluck-cluck sound my hens always made. When I reached them, I saw that their little feet were holding on to the edge of the bucket, heads bent forward and away from the wind. I gently lifted each hen and put it carefully into the warm inside. Then I began the freezing walk back to the small shed directly behind our house. One by one I laid my chickens on the cold floor, and they began to cluck softly.

As I shut the shed doors, my eyes went directly to the window where my children were watching. They jumped up and down cheering, and so did I! I wasn’t some dragon slayer (屠杀者) from a fairy tale. I was simply a mom, but the look on my children’s faces told me that they thought I was a hero mom.

【推荐3】Our daughter Kerrin, a student at Boston University, had been home for a week-end visit, and I dropped her off at the bus station just in time for her back to college. After Kerrin’s bus had gone and I was driving away, I noticed that she had left her purse on the passenger seat. Worried that she would arrive in Boston without money or keys to her room, I called my wife, Bette Jean, on the car phone, explaining why I would be late. As I was following the bus, Bette Jean phoned me back to say she had phoned the bus dispatcher（调度员）on the other line and he, in return, had phoned the bus driver on yet another phone. The driver asked me to wave out of my window to show where I was. Then he pulled over at a rest stop, and I did the same. Kerrin jumped off the bus, and I handed her the purse and went on my way.

a. his car       b. phone   c. the bus driver        d. the dispatcher

e. his wife               f. his daughter