【推荐1】About this time every year, I get very nostalgic(怀旧的). Walking through my neighborhood on a fall afternoon reminds me of a time not too long ago when sounds of children filled the air, children playing games on a hill, and throwing leaves around in the street below. I was one of those children, carefree and happy. I live on a street that is only one block long. I have lived on the same street for sixteen years. I love my street. One side has six houses on it, and the other has only two houses, with a small hill in the middle and a huge cottonwood tree on one end. When I think of home, I think of my street. Only I see it as it was before. Unfortunately things change. One day, not long ago, I looked around and saw how different everything has become. Life on my street will never be the same because neighbors are quickly grown old, friends are growing up and leaving, and the city is planning to destroy my precious hill and sell the property to contractors.
It is hard for me to accept that many of my wonderful neighbors are growing old and won’t be around much longer. I have fond memories of the couple across the street, who sat together on their porch swing almost every evening, the widow next door who yelled at my brother and me for being too loud, and the crazy old man in a black suit who drove an old car. In contrast to those people, the people I see today are very old neighbors who have seen better days. The man in the black suit says he wants to die, and another neighbor just sold his house and moved into a nursing home. The lady who used to yell at us is too tired to bother any more, and the couple across the street rarely go out to their front porch these days. It is difficult to watch these precious people as they near the end of their lives because at once I thought they would live forever.
The “comings and goings” of the younger generation of my street are now mostly “goings” as friends and peers move on. Once upon a time, my life and the lives of my peers revolved around home. The boundary of our world was the gutter at the end of the street. We got pleasure from playing night games or from a breathtaking ride on a tricycle. Things are different now, as my friends become adults and move on. Children who rode tricycles now drive cars. The kids who once played with me now have new interests and values as they go their separate ways. Some have gone away to college like me, a few got married, two went into the army, and one went to prison. Watching all these people grow up and go away makes me long for the good old days.
Perhaps the biggest change on my street is the fact that the city is going to turn my precious hill into several lots for now homes. For sixteen years, the view out of my kitchen window has been a view of that hill. The hill was a fundamental part of my childhood life; it was the hub of social activity for the children of my street. We spent hours there building forts, sledding, and playing tag. The view out of my kitchen window now is very different; it is one of tractors and dump trucks tearing up the hill. When the hill goes, the neighborhood will not be the same. It is a piece of my childhood. It is a visual reminder of being a kid. Without the hill, _______________________.
There was a time when my street was my world, and I thought my world would never change. But something happened. People grow up, and people grow old. Places changes, and with the change comes the heartache of knowing I can never go back to the times I loved. In a year or so, I will be gone just like many of my neighbors. I will always look back to my years as a child, but the place I remember will not be the silent street whose peace is interrupted by the sounds of construction. It will be the happy, noisy, somewhat strange, but wonderful street I knew as a child.
1. The writer finds it hard to accept the fact that _____________.

A．many of his good neighbors are growing old

B．the lady next door who used to yell at him and his brother is now a widow

C．the life of his neighbors has become very boring

D．the man in his black suit even wanted to end his own life

2. The biggest change on the writer's street is _____________.

A．removing the hill to make way for residential development

B．the building of new homes behind his kitchen window

C．the fact that there are much fewer people around than in the past

D．the change in his childhood friends' attitude towards their neighborhood

3. What does the writer mean by saying “my street will be another pea in the pod”?

A．his street will be very noisy and dirty

B．his street will soon be crowded with people

C．his street will have some new attractions

D．his street will be no different from any other street

4. Which could be a good title for the passage?

A．The Past of My Street will Live Forever

B．Unforgettable People and Things of My Street

C．Memory Street Isn’t What It Used to Be

D．The Big Changes of My Street

【推荐2】When I saw my 10-year-old avoiding the dirty plate in the sink or my 8-year-old feeling uncomfortable about the wet sand in her hands, I’m reminded of a time when I was unwilling to get my hands a little dirty.

My parents owned a 500-acre farm in Montana to raise animals, such as cows, sheep, horses and so on. It was during the time of new life (a newborn lamb or a calf) that my favorite childhood memory took place. One exceptionally cold day, I was checking on the sheep with my mother when she spied a ewe (母羊) in trouble. The poor thing was trying to deliver her baby lamb and needed our help. My mother calmly held the ewe’s head and instructed me to grab hold of the two protruding (突出) legs.

I hesitated, and must have had quite a look of panic on my young face. The slimy little things were definitely not something I wanted to touch. But I worked up my courage and wrapped my fingers around them. I can still recall the feel of unexpectedly weak legs and their sharp little hooves as if it happened yesterday.

My heart pounded in fear and excitement as I pulled with all my strength. The lamb was delivered safely, and I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

I was no stranger to seeing farm animals being born, but to have a hand in it was something I treasured then and will treasure forever. I remember feeling excited with delight to see “my lamb” being licked clean by her mother, and I’m sure everyone got very tired of hearing me tell and retell my heroic story. Looking back, I’m so glad that I didn’t refuse to get my hands dirty. If I had, the wonderful moment and the precious memory would have been lost.

1. What impressed the writer most during her childhood?

A．Her dirty little hands.	B．Her parents’ large farm.
C．Helping deliver a baby lamb.	D．Raising animals on the farm.

2. How did the author feel when she was asked to help a ewe deliver her baby?

A．Sympathetic.	B．Rather frightened.
C．Quite astonished.	D．Highly delighted.

3. What point does the author try to make in the last paragraph?

A．It is not unusual to see a new life coming into the world.

B．It is not easy to make up and tell a heroic story in daily life.

C．Memories formed during childhood are worth valuing all life long.

D．You need to get your hands dirty to experience something precious.

4. What could be the best title for the passage?

A．Valuable Life Lesson	B．A Tidy and Clean Child
C．A Ewe Delivering her Baby	D．A Beautiful Newborn Lamb

【推荐3】I stood outside New York’s Madison Square Garden and just stared, almost speechless. I was a farm boy from County Kilkenny, a child who some thought would never walk, let alone go as far as I had in the world.

From the day I was born, there was a problem. The doctors at the Dublin hospital told my parents I had phocomelia, a deformity that affected both legs below the knee, which were outward and shorter than normal and each foot had just three toes.

Life was tough. I couldn’t stand, much less walk. I rarely, left the farmhouse---and then only in someone’s arms. Mam bundled me up whenever she took me to town, no matter the season.

“The world will see him when he can walk,” she told Dad. “And he will walk.”

Mam devoted herself to helping me. She tried everything to get me on my feet. When I was three, she and Dad took me to a clinic in Dublin.

A few weeks later we returned to Dublin with my artificial limbs (肢). Back home I practiced walking with my new limbs.

“There’s nothing anyone can do but you can’t,” Mam said. “You and I are going to walk through town.”

The next day Mam dressed me in my finest clothes. She wore a summer dress and fixed her hair and makeup. Dad drove us to the church. We stepped out of the car. Mam took my hand. “Hold your head up high, now, Ronan,” she said.

We walked 300 meters to the post office. It was the farthest I’d walked, and I was sweating from the effort. Then we left the post office and continued down the street, Mam’s eyes shining with a mother’s pride.

That night, back on our farm, I lay exhausted on my bed. It meant nothing, though, compared to what I’d done on my walk.

Then I began to pursue my dream of singing. And at every step Mam’s words came back to me—Ronan, you can do anything anyone else can do—and the faith she had in God, who would help me do it.

I’ve sung from the grandest stages in Europe, to music played by the world’s finest musicians. That night, I stood at the Madison Square Garden, with Mam’s words chiming in my ears. Then I began singing. I couldn’t feel the pulse of the music in my feet, but I felt it deep in my heart, the same place where Mam’s promise lived.

1. What was the problem with the author as a baby?

A．He was expected unable to walk.

B．He was born outward in character.

C．He had a problem with listening.

D．He was shorter than a normal baby.

2. The underlined word “deformity” in the second paragraph most probably means _______.

A．shortcoming

B．disadvantage

C．disability

D．delay

3. Why did Mam dress him and herself in finest clothes?

A．To hide their depressed feeling.

B．To indicate it an unusual day.

C．To show off their clothes.

D．To celebrate his successful operation.

4. From the story we may conclude that his mother was _______.

A．determined

B．stubborn

C．generous

D．distinguished

5. According to the writer, what mattered most in his success?

A．His consistent effort.	B．His talent for music.
C．His countless failures.	D．His mother’s promise.