One Wednesday, many years ago, when I was working as a psychologist (心理医生) at a children's institution in England, a boy showed up in the waiting room. I went out there where he was walking up and down uneasily.
I showed him into my office and pointed to the chair on the other side of my desk. It was in late autumn, and most trees outside the window had lost all their leaves. "Please sit down," I said.
David wore a black rain coat that was buttoned all the way up to his neck. His face was pale, and he stared at his feet while wringing his hands nervously. He lost his father in a car accident 3 years ago. Before he came, his head teacher called and told me, "After his father's death, the boy becomes very sad and depressed. He refuses to talk to others or attend any activities or clubs. He has no social life at all. However, when his father was alive, the boy was active and talkative. After school, they would play chess games happily!"
I looked at David. How could I help him? Perhaps the best thing I can do is to listen openly and to be there for him. But I am still not sure what to do.
David didn't say a word, and only looked at the children's drawings on the wall behind me. As he was about to leave, I put my hand on his shoulder. He didn't step back, but he didn't look at me either. "Come back next week this time, if you like," I said. I hesitated a bit. Then I said, "I know it hurts."
Finally, he came and I took out a set of chess.
注意：
1．续写词数应为150左右；
2．请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Staring at the chess set in silence for long, he whispered in tears, "Father liked it…"_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Another Wednesday, David appeared with a box of chocolate, smiling brightly._____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Last year, I went to Los Angeles for a holiday after I won the Vans U.S. Open of Surfing championship. It was a sunny day, with a blue, cloudless sky over a calm sea. I went outside and climbed up onto the roof for a break. I sat and watched people swimming in the sea. But then, as I looked in the distance, I saw a series of three or four big waves heading toward the shore. I'd seen these mini-tsunamis many times before. They were heading at speed towards the swimming area. Most people knew to look out for them, but from the screams that started coming from the beach, I could tell someone was in trouble.
Without thinking, I ran down into the street, grabbing my bodyboard on the way. I shouted at a stranger to call the lifeguard. My neighbor Tom had heard the screaming as well and was also outside with his bodyboard, so together we rushed to the steps that led down to the beach.
When we got down there, we discovered the waves had pulled two boys into the open sea.
I knew that the nearest boat would take at least 30 minutes to reach us. I wasn’t used to this sort of emergency — I'd never been trained as a lifeguard — but I didn't think twice about trying to save them. I suppose in a way I wanted to impress everyone; at 19, a deal like that can seem like a good opportunity to show off.
Tom and I dived into the water. It took us 10 minutes to locate them. When we finally reached them, they were barely able to stay afloat, their heads bobbing up and down in the water. We could tell they were still alive from their small breaths but it was clear they wouldn’t have been able to stay there much longer. Tom and I held the boys and pulled them over our boards.
注意
1. 续写词数应为150左右。
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡上的相应位置作答。
We began pushing them back to the shore, but the waves were getting stronger.
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When we arrived at the hospital, the two kids were in better condition.
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The Little Girl Who Dared To Wish
As Amy Hagadorn rounded the corner across the hall from her classroom, she knocked into a tall boy from the fifth grade running in the opposite direction.
"Watch it , squirt(矮子)." The boy yelled as he passed by the little third-grader. Then, with a bad smile on his face, the boy took hold of his right leg and copied the way Amy limped(跛行)when she walked.
Amy closed her eyes. Ignore him, she told herself as she headed for her classroom.
But at the end of the day, Amy was still thinking about the tall boy's mean teasing. It wasn't as if he were the only one. It seemed that ever since Amy started the third grade, someone teased her every single day. Kids teased her about her speech or her limping. Amy was tired of it.
Back home at the dinner table that evening, Amy was quiet. Her mother knew that things were not going well at school. That's why Patti Hagadorn was happy to have some exciting news to share with her daughter.
"There's a Christmas wish contest on the radio station," Amy's mom announced. "Write a letter to Santa, and you might win a prize."
Amy giggled. The contest sounded like fun. She started thinking about what she wanted most for Christmas.
A smile took hold of Amy when the idea first came to her. Out came pencil and paper, and Amy went to work on her letter.
Dear Santa Claus,
My name is Amy. I am nine years old. I have a problem at school. Can you help me Santa? Kids laugh at me because of the way I walk and run and talk. I have a serious disease. I just want one day where no one laughs at me or makes fun of me.Love, Amy.
注意：
1. 所续写短文的词数应为150左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
When Amy's letter arrived at the radio station, manager Lee Tobin read it carefully.
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Suddenly the postman in the community was a regular at the Hagadorn house.
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"Why did you do this without asking for my permission first? Don't you know it's a total waste of time and it will have a bad influence on your study?" That's what my mother yelled at the ten-year-old me when she found out that I had signed up for an English story-telling competition.
I bowed my head; yes, she was right. By then I was entering Grade Six, faced with the biggest challenge yet to come — the examination to enter my dream junior high school. For that. I had given up my beloved piano lesson, my favourite cartoon program and even the joyful weekend family reunion with my cousins. I wouldn't be surprised at all if my very strict-university-teacher mother got angry at me when I chose to do anything that had little to do with study at that important moment. In her opinion, if I hadn't spent all my time on my study I would have difficulty in entering my dream junior high school.
But that's not all to it. When I was ten, I was nervous, shy, tongue-tied when facing strangers, and essentially a bookworm. These signs looked fatal (致命的) to my mother, and possibly to you, too; she thought that I could be anything but a good public speaker.
Well, I myself actually said no to my English teacher at first, because I had never done anything like that before and I was afraid. But he told me that — since I liked reading so much, why not try to tell a story I love to everyone? He also promised me that the judges were not frightening at all; just think of them as carrots and cabbages in a vegetable garden.
The ten-year-old me was persuaded by my teacher's words.
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Apparently surprised by my determination, my mother looked as if she was close to another explosion-but she only sighed and agreed.
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“Nothing will ever be the same again,” Ally said to herself.
Ally's father died last summer. It wasn't fair, Ally thought. Dad was young and had never been sick. Why had his heart suddenly stopped? Ally sank slow into her father's favorite chair and looked at his picture on the bookcase. Ally smiled. “I miss you, Dad,” she said softly.
At this moment, she felt a hand smoothing her hair and looked up. “Why don't you come outside with me, Ally?” her mother asked. “The birds are nesting in the woods. By this time last year you'd already taken dozens of pictures.”
But her mother must know birdwatching wouldn't be the same this year. How could it be? Ally wondered. Ever since she could remember she and Dad had been a team, searching the woods for the special wood warbler (林柳莺). “I'll be out in while, I promise,” she answered.
After her mother left, Ally reached for the photo album she and Dad had put together. On the cover was a photo of a tiny yellow bird with blue-gray wings and black eyes. Dad cut it from a local newspaper. Ally smiled, remembering the excited look on Dad's face when he showed her the pretty bird.
“I can't believe someone spotted this little guy way up here in New Jersey,” he said. “Wood warblers are usually found in the south, not this far north. I bet if we search really hard, Ally, we'll see this little guy together someday.”
Ally closed her eyes. She loved thinking about the times she and Dad had spent searching the woods for the little bird. They'd never spotted the warbler, but her father had an amazing way of making each outing seem special. He was her best friend.
注意：
1.续写的短文词数应为150左右；
2.请按如下格式在答题纸的相应位置作答。
When they were together, Ally felt comfortable with her favorite blue sweatshirt on.
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Just then her mother came to her, carrying the old net.
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I grew up in a small town where elementary school was a ten-minute walk from my house and in an age, not so long ago, when we children could go home for lunch and find our mothers waiting.
Our lunchtime when I was in the third grade will stay with me always. I had been picked to be the princess in the school play, and for weeks my mother had painstakingly practiced my lines（台词）with me. But no matter how easily I delivered them at home, as soon as I stepped on stage, every word disappeared from my head. Finally, my teacher took me aside. She explained patiently that she needed a narrator (叙述者，旁白员) and had written a narrator’s part to the play, and asked me to play the role of the narrator. Her words, kindly delivered, still hurt me especially when I saw my part go to another girl.
I didn’t tell mother what had happened when I went home for lunch that day. But she sensed my upset, and instead of suggesting we practice my lines, she asked if I wanted to walk in the yard. It was a lovely spring day and the rose vine（ 藤 ）was turning green. Under the huge trees, we could see yellow dandelions（ 蒲 公 英 ） appearing unexpectedly through the grass in bunches (簇，串）, as if a painter had touched our landscape with small amounts of gold. I watched my mother casually bend down by one of the bushes. “I think I’m going to dig up all these weeds,” she said, pulling a blossom up by all its roots. “From now on, we’ll only have roses in this garden.” I immediately argued, “But I like dandelions. All flowers are beautiful — even dandelions.”
注意：
1. 续写词数应为 150 左右：
2. 续写部分分为两段，每段的开头语已经为你写好。
Paragraph 1：
“Do you mean that every flower has its own beauty?”asked my mother thoughtfully.
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Paragraph 2：
Having learned what had happened, Mom patted me on the back gently and said,“But you will be a beautiful narrator.”
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As we came down to breakfast that morning, with very shiny faces and spandy clean aprons, we found father alone in the dining-room.
“Happy New Year,papa! Where is mother?”we cried.
“A little boy came begging and said they were starving at home, so your mother went to see and--ah,here she is.”
As papa spoke, in came mamma, looking very cold, rather sad, and very much excited.
“Children, don't begin till you hear what I have to say,” she cried and we sat staring at her, with the breakfast untouched before us.
“Not far away from here, lies a poor woman with a little new-born baby. Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire. There is nothing to eat over there; and the oldest boy came here to tell me they were starving this bitter cold day. My little girls, will you give them your breakfast, as a New Year's gift?”
We sat silent a minute, and looked at the nice, hot porridge, creamy milk, and good bread and butter.
“I wish we'd eaten it up,” thought I, for I was rather a selfish child, and very hungry.
“I'm so glad you come before we began,”said Nan, cheerfully.
“May I go and help carry it to the poor, little children?” asked Beth, who had the tenderest heart.
“I can carry the lassy pot,” said little May, proudly giving the thing she loved best.
“And I shall take all the porridge,” I burst in, heartily ashamed of my first feeling.
“You shall put on your things and help me, and when we come back, we'll get something to eat,”said mother, beginning to pile the bread and butter into a big basket.
Paragraph 1:
We were soon ready and set out.
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Paragraph 2:
Seeing the house totally in a mess, we fell to work immediately.
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Jenny lived in a small village. When she was a child, what she liked to do most was watch the blue sky and enjoy birds flying freely in the sky. She always imagined that some day she could also fly in the sky like a bird.
When Jane was in the fourth grade, one day, her teacher asked them to write a report on what they wanted to be when they grew up. She poured her heart into her report and wrote that she dreamed to become an airline pilot in the future. She thought that she did a great job because she expressed her real idea successfully. However, to her surprise, her paper came back with an “F” on it. The teacher told her it was nothing but a “fairy tale”, which could never become true. Jenny felt completely disappointed and sad. In her heart, she didn't want to accept that a girl couldn't become a pilot. But as the years went by, Jenny was beaten down by the discouragement again and again from people around her. “Girls can't become airline pilots; never have, never will. You're crazy.” Finally, Jenny gave up her dream.
However, when Jenny studied in her senior year of high school, she met an English teacher called Marsha, who was a strict teacher with high standards but very kind. She often inspired her students to do something meaningful in the future. One day, Mrs. Marsha asked all the students to think about the question: “What will you do in the future?” At that time, Jenny hesitated for a while. She was worried that she would be laughed at again. But soon she felt a rush of the old enthusiasm, and with excitement she wrote down the very old dream of becoming a pilot right away.
注意：1. 续写词数应为150左右。
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
The next day, Marsha came into the classroom with a bright smile on her face.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________The hurt and fear of years of discouragement disappeared.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I grew up in a large family of twelve siblings（兄弟姐妹）.We weren’t poor by most standards, but things were definitely tight for us. My parents never shared their financial worries. Instead, they chose to let us have a carefree childhood. But despite their consideration, I knew, as children often do, that there were times they went without and that certain things my friends had wouldn’t be available to me.
Back in those days, hot lunch was a luxury for the wealthier kids, and hot-lunch buyers sat separately from the students who brought cold lunch. My siblings and I brought lunch from home every day: thick slices of homemade bread hiding one scant slice of bologna, three oatmeal cookies, and a small apple. We would look on longingly as the rich kids proudly sat down with their steaming plates of fried chicken or fish sticks and potato puffs, cartons of cold milk, chilled peaches and a slice of cake.
I never said anything, but my first grade teacher, Mrs. Caruso, must have seen the desire in my eyes. One day she quietly pressed a note into my hand and whispered, “Give this to your mother.”
I skipped home and gave my mom the note. She read it and smiled. “Well, Mrs. Caruso said because of all your hard work, she wants to buy your lunch tomorrow.” The next day, I proudly carried my tray of chicken fricassee across the cafeteria and took my seat at the hot-lunch table. Honestly, the food wasn’t as great as I had imagined, but I was pleased to be there and felt honored to be a part of the group.
One rainy day, Mrs. Caruso asked me to stay after school. My stomach instantly dropped to the floor. Surely, I must be in trouble! Did she know I hadn't finished my math sheet? Did she see me teasing Billy on the playground?
注意：
1.续写词数应为150左右；
2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
After the other students had left, Mrs, Caruso said she was going to finish her work and then drive me home.
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I don’t know why Mrs. Caruso helped my family.
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Jack still remembers that one morning when he was only ten years old. He was at home with his elder sister Lily. Jack was doing his homework when he heard raised voices. At first, he thought nothing of it since customers' voice in the motorcycle shop directly below their flat often became loud, but he soon realized this time it was different.
“Quick! Quick! Remove the motorcycles from the shop.” someone shouted.
Then a thick burning smell filled the air. When Jack opened the front door of their flat to investigate, a thick cloud of smoke greeted him. The motorcycle shop had caught fire and people were running and crying.
Lily, who had been playing the violin in her room, hurried to the living room. They rushed out of the door and along the corridor through the smoke.
They were heading towards the stairway at the far end of the corridor when Lily stopped in her track. She turned around and headed back the way they came. Jack had no idea what she was doing, but he followed her.
Lily had suddenly remembered the lady in her 70s who lived next door to them, who they called Makcik, Malay for auntie. Lily began banging on Makcik’s door, but got no answer. As the smoke thickened around them, Jack could see many of their neighbors — some still in their pyjamas — running for safety. The thought of fear crossed his mind.
“She might have run for safety like everyone else!” Jack cried. However, Lily refused to give up. “I know Makcik's still inside.” She said she was familiar with Makcik's daily routine and was certain she would still be sleeping. She pounded the door. “Go downstairs. Go now! Go!”
注意:1. 所续写短文的词数应为150左右;
2. 续写部分分为两段，每段的开头语已为你写好。
Just at that time, Jack noticed the flame was reaching up.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Luckily, all the neighbors went downstairs and an ambulance came.
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