Wrapping paper flew everywhere as Cali opened her gift. The box had a picture of a pretty girl. She was wearing white ice skates and turning around a frozen pond.

Cali looked up at her aunt and uncle with her big brown eyes. “Figure skates? Wow! How nice of you! But,” the little girl hesitated, “… but I don’t know how to skate.” She looked embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” said Aunt Lisa. “That’s the fun part — learning how to do it!”

“That’s right,” said Uncle George.“We will take you to the ice rink(冰场)and all go skating together.”

“I don’t know…” said Cali. She wasn’t too sure she was going to be able to do it. Sometimes she had a hard time learning new things. She looked again at the happy girl on the box. It did look like fun. Cali imagined herself moving and turning on the ice like a real figure skater. “Okay,” she agreed. “Let’s do it!”

The next day Cali went to the skating rink with her aunt and uncle. Her eyes twinkled and her face lit up with excitement as she looked at the other skaters around her. She sat down on the bench and slipped her feet into the skates. Holding the strings in her fingers, she could not figure out how to tie them up. “I don’t know how to do it,” she said. She felt sad that this was another thing she couldn’t do.

“Let me show you.” Her aunt bent down on one knee, explaining how to put the strings around the small hooks (钩子). Then she tied them into a tight bow. “Now, you do the other skate yourself. I’ll helpyou if you need it.” Cali bent over the skate and did what her aunt had showed her. Her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth as she paid attention. After a few tries, she worked out how to cross the strings around the hooks. Her aunt helped make sure the strings were nice and tight. “You did it!” smiled her aunt, patting Cali on the back.

The easy way out isn't always easiest. I learned that lesson when I decided to treat my father to a special meal. I glanced through the cookbook and chose a menu which included homemade bread. Knowing the bread would take time, I started on it as soon as he left for work.   

As I was not experienced in cooking, I thought if a dozen was good, two dozen would be better, so I doubled everything. As Dad loved oranges, I also opened a can of orange and poured it all into the bowl. Soon there was sticky dough (面团) covered with ugly yellowish marks. Realizing I had been defeated, I put the dough in the rubbish bin outside so I wouldn't have to face him laughing at my work.

I went on preparing the rest of the meal, and, when Dad got home, we sat down to Cornish chicken with rice. He tried to enjoy the meal but seemed disturbed. Twice he got up and went outside, saying he thought he heard a noise. The third time he left, I went to the windows to see what he was doing.   

Looking out, I saw Dad standing about three feet from the rubbish bin, holding the lid up with a stick and looking into the container. When I came out of the house, he dropped the stick and explained that there was something alive in the rubbish bin. Picking up the stick again, he held the lid up enough for me to see. I felt cold. But I stepped closer and looked harder.   

Without doubt it was my work. The hot sun had caused the dough to double in size and the. fermenting yeast (酵母) made the surface shake and sigh as though it were breathing. I had to admit what the "living thing" was and why it was there. I don't know who was more embarrassed by the whole thing, Dad or me.

My dad tapped me gently on the shoulder, and we went inside.

At a party three months later, everyone wanted to try my bread.

Lon was chasing his runaway horse when a goose went under his feet. And he fell into a thornbush (荆棘丛). “Why do I have such bad luck?”

Things never seemed to go Lon’s way. If there was a bee about, he was stung.

And if his horse ran away, it would run straight through a thornbush. Still, even bad luck might turn good if he could catch that goose for dinner.

He scanned the bushes, and found a nest with an egg. Just an egg, but even one egg might make a small meal.

He picked it up, but dropped it in surprise. The egg was unusually heavy, and it gleamed (发光) in the sunlight. It was made of gold!

Lon sighed. He’d nearly stepped on a goose that lays golden eggs. If he had captured the goose, he would have had golden egg after golden egg.

Then a thought exploded in his mind.

Perhaps he could take the egg and get it to hatch, and the new goose would lay golden eggs just as its mother did.

Lon smiled. His luck seemed to be changing.

Once home, Lon placed the egg into a bed of cotton next to the hearth. He turned it every hour for several days.

One morning, he heard a faint chk-chk-chk. A small golden beak poked its way through the shell.

It was an ugly little thing, but Lon didn’t care. All that mattered was the golden eggs it would soon lay.

The gosling demanded food. Lon happily kept its beak filled. He named the bird Goly and became fond of it, even though it was soon better fed than he was. Lon talked to his goose and taught it to play checkers (国际跳棋).

Time passed as Lon waited for the first golden egg. Goldy had grown quite fat, but there were no eggs. Lon finally took the goose to a farmer to see what the problem was.

The farmer took a closer look and laughed. “You’ll never get eggs from this goose. It’s a boy goose!

I might as well roast you for dinner,” Lon said. “At least then I’ll get a meal for all my work!”

Alarmed，Goldy popped out of Lon’s arm and escaped into the forest.

One morning, Lon awoke to Goldy’s familiar honking outside.

He met her at a party. She was so outstanding, with many boys around her, while he was so ordinary, with nobody paying attention to him.

At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him. She was surprised, but out of politeness, she agreed.

They sat in a nice coffee shop. He was too nervous to say anything, and she felt uncomfortable, thinking, “Please let me go home.”

Suddenly he asked the waiter, “Would you please give me some salt? I’d like to put it in my coffee.”

Everybody stared at him. So strange! His face turned red, but, still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it.

She asked him curiously, “Why do you have this hobby?”

He replied, “When I was a little boy, I was living near the sea. I liked playing in the sea, and I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood. I miss so much my hometown and my parents who are still living there.”

While saying that he couldn’t hold back his tears. She was deeply touched. That’s his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can speak out his homesickness must be a man who loves home, cares about home, and has responsibility for his family.

Then she also started to speak about her faraway hometown, her childhood, and her family. That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story.

They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who met all her demands: he was kind-hearted, warm and careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him.

Thanks to his salty coffee! Then the story went on just like every beautiful love story: the princess married the prince, and then they were living in happiness…And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee.

After 40 years, he passed away, leaving her a letter.

Learning the truth while reading the letter,

"Pick up the pace!" said Amy's husband. "But I can't!" Amy said, her heart beating quickly inside. "I can't go any faster! Her husband encouraged her. "Yes, you can! You're making progress every day.”

To help Amy stay healthy, her husband had been running with her for over two years. Several years ago, Amy could barely walk down the stairs of her apartment building due to fatness caused by eating disorders. She realized the problem after a failed job interview and began walking to improve her ability to move. At first, she could walk for only 15 minutes at a time. But she pushed herself every day, walking 5 minutes longer than she did the day before until she walked for an hour and eventually two. For three years, Amy kept her walking habit, slowly and painstakingly building her body shape. Then she changed her walking shoes to running shoes about two years ago and became an excellent runner.

In March 2001, an advertisement invited people to nominate（提名）an ordinary person who inspired them to bring the Olympic flame to Salt Lake City as torch bearers（火炬手）or support runners.（Support runners serve as “guardians of the flame" and run with torch bearers along the journey.）Amy's experiences touched her husband, so he nominated her to be a torch bearer. The possibility to be selected was low, but Amy wanted to try.

Running taught Amy the importance of training for a race. She pictured herself running a race and crossing the finish line. For months, she ran through her neighborhood carrying a broken-off broom handle, feeling the weight of the torch. She waved at her neighbors, pretending they were cheering crowds. She also printed a picture of a torch bearer wearing the white uniform, replaced the face with a picture of hers, and put it onto her refrigerator door.

Every day, Amy imagined herself as a torch bearer. She was training for a historic running event. On September 26th, while on her daily run through her neighborhood, an express package arrived.

       "One of today's torch bearers can't run her part, " announced the relay organizer.

8 . 阅读下面短文，根据所给情节进行续写，使之构成一个完整的故事。

It was Christmas Day. Pappy was working alone fixing an old lantern in the backroom when he heard the ringing of his bell on the shop door. The bell, which produced a uniquely pleasant sound, had been in Pappy’s family for over a hundred years. He valued it dearly and enjoyed sharing its song with all who came to his shop. Although the bell hung on the inside of the main door, Pappy had tied a wire to the screen door so that it would ring whether the inner door was open or not. Hearing the bell, he left the backroom to greet his customer.

“And how can I help you, little lady?” Pappy’s voice was joyful.

“Hello, sir.” The little girl spoke almost in a whisper. She looked at Pappy with her big brown eyes, and then slowly scanned the room in search of something special. Shyly she told him, “I’d like to buy a present, sir.”

“Well, let’s see,” Pappy said, “who is this present for?”

“My grandpa. It’s for my grandpa. But I don’t know what to get.”

Pappy began to make suggestions. “How about a pocket watch? It’s in good condition.” The little girl didn’t answer. She had walked to the doorway and put her small hand on the door. She shook the door gently to ring the bell. Pappy’s face seemed to glow as he saw her smiling with excitement.

“This is just right,” the little girl said. “Momma says grandpa loves music.”

Just then, Pappy’s expression changed. Fearful of breaking the little girl’s heart, he told her, “I’m sorry, Missy. That’s not for sale. Maybe your grandpa would like this little radio.”

The girl looked at the radio, bowed her head, and sadly sighed, “No, I don’t think so.”

In an effort to help her understand, Pappy told her that the bell had been his only companion, for the rest of his family were all gone now, except for his estranged (疏远的) daughter whom he had not seen for nearly a decade.

注意：

所续写短文的词数应为150左右；

应使用5个以上短文中标有下划线的关键词语；

续写部分分为两段，每段开头语已为你写好；

续写完成后，请用下划线标出你所使用的关键词语。

Paragraph 1:

With a giant tear in her eye, the little girl looked up at him.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Paragraph 2:

Later that evening when Pappy was closing up the shop, he heard a familiar ringing.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The fourth Thursday in November is called Thanksgiving Day, which has been one of the most important festivals in the United States. The theme is thankfulness for peace and happiness of family life during the past year. People usually eat roast turkey and pumpkin pie to celebrate the holiday.

There are always moving stories about Thanksgiving Day. Though the stories have different leading roles, the topics of them are the same: showing the sincere appreciation to their loved people, such as parents, siblings（兄弟姊妹），friends, teachers and so on.

I also have a moving story that happened on Thanksgiving Day. At first it sounded like a thanksgiving story, but the more I reflected on it, the more appropriate it seemed for any time of the year. The story went like this: when Thanksgiving Day was coming, a teacher gave her class an interesting task-to draw a picture of something for which they were thankful.

Most of the class might be considered economically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey, corn, pumpkins and other traditional things of the season, like all of those symbols drawn on the holiday decorations and greeting cards. These, the teacher thought, would be the subjects of most of her students art.

All students drew their pictures as the teacher thought, except one boy-Peterson. He made a different kind of picture. Peterson seemed to be a strange student in the class. As other children played during break, he usually chose to quietly stand close by the teacher's side. They didn't know what had ever happened to him and nobody could guess how Peterson felt behind his sad eyes. He didn't like to play with the other students nor talk with them.

When the little boy was asked to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. There was nothing else but an empty hand on the picture. It was different from other pictures.

His abstract picture caught the imagination of his classmates.

When the children went on to discuss other pictures,the teacher paused at the boy's desk.