When I first moved to the south of America in the summer holiday before middle school, I realized that I was stepping into a completely different world. New Orleans, Louisiana, was unlike any place I had ever been to. In the French Quarter, tourists walked around all year with long skinny cups in their hands, and there was a popular game going on the streets which were crowded with cars but had few people. What surprised me more than anything, though, was the constant friendliness and compassion of the people of New Orleans.
“What can I get for you, sugar?” a waitress about my age asked me on my first day in New Orleans.
I was taken aback. The waitress did not even know me, but she treated me like family. She smiled down at me as I pointed to an item on the menu.
“Is the pasta good?” I asked her.
“It’s not my favorite,” she admitted with a smile. “But I’m more of a girl who prefers rice!” She shrugged, letting out a loud laughter.
I looked at her in shock. What was I supposed to say to that? I couldn’t believe that the waitress had just prevented me from ordering something. Actually, she had given me her honest opinion, as if we were best friends. She even told me her name—Mary. She even told me that she just worked as a part-time waitress and that she would be a high school student soon.
After a few days in New Orleans, I got used to kind reminders and polite greetings. I also realized how comforting it was to be treated like I belong wherever I went.
As soon as I settled into my new high school, I adapted myself to the school life. I was drawn to the lively music scene that New Orleans was famous for. I was a trumpet (小号) player, and I wanted to join the school music club. However, I was afraid that I was too poor in music to be qualified for the school music club.
注意：1．续写词数应为150个左右；
2．请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
One afternoon, I was surprised to see a group of students including Mary practicing jazz in the school playground.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Finally, with Mary’s encouragement, my hesitation slowly melted away.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Self-Portrait
Alia was disappointed to find herself in the drawing studio. She had been sick with the flu during the week when everyone else got to pick their classes. She had hoped for Astronomy or Marine Biology, but they were full by the time she got to choose. She loved everything about science, from the way it used facts and formulas to how it revealed the basic nature of things. But art was so un-scientific.
The first class project was self-portraits. Some students were drawing self-portraits using mirrors. Others were working from photographs. Alia glanced at the incomplete sketches, feeling like a cat in a dog show. But she had no choice. Hesitantly, she lifted a pencil, only to pause before the canvas. Confusion and reluctance were evidently written on her face; she had no idea how to proceed with her strokes.
The teacher came up to Alia’s easel (画架). Seemingly having noticed her trouble, he sat next to her.
“Every portrait begins with a circle,” he said. “Then you create a series of lines.”
To demonstrate, he drew a group of small, quick portraits. He began each one with a circle, some straight lines, and a triangle to determine where the eyes, nose, and chin should go. To Alia’s amazement, each portrait on the paper took form. Alia had never thought about it, but the features of everyone’s face were in the same spots. “Go ahead and give it a try.” The teacher handed the pencil back to her.
Taking a deep breath, Alia began her own self-portrait. She drew the basic form of a head, the way she had been shown. From there, she used lines to plot the features of her face. She had to take note of each detail, with each stroke, line and curve demanding her close attention. One wrong measurement could throw off the whole portrait.
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。
The process took patience and precision.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Admiring her work, Alia suddenly realized drawing was just what she had hoped for.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________“Hey, how are you doing, son?” My father smiled to me. “Not bad, dad, but I’ve decided not to go to university. I want to focus on my music career,” I replied. It would be a harmonious dinner if there was no argument interrupting us. As you know, my father insisted that I should be a teacher all the time because he was a professor while I would like to create a band in the rest of my life. My father got angry, raising his voice: “You can’t be serious. Why not being a teacher? You can help students and change their lives.” But I’m not interested in education at all. I just want to work in a studio, not a school. However, my dad thought that a band is not career, even not a job. If I were a lead singer of my band, I would be very happy. I will have new friends, new life, new environment and everything new. “It’s so boring to be a teacher for me, I can’t go to different countries, and I can’t wear popular clothes even!” I couldn’t control myself when I thought about it.
I know teachers are great. They set an example for me, giving me a lot of care and help when I was young. I have never denied this profession, but it is not my dream. Supposing that our human society intends to acquire long-term prosperity, it is advisable for us to do what we really love. Only in this way, can we work productively, efficiently and effectively.
注意：
1. 续写词数应为150个左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
At this time, my grandfather stepped between me and my father.
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The relaxed atmosphere gradually eased off.
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1. 你的目标大学;
2. 你的理想专业;
3. 如何准备。
注意：1. 词数100左右。
2. 短文的题目已为你写好。
My Ideal Major
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Our three kids were all under age five. We’d recently moved to the suburbs, and I’d stopped working to be a stay-at-home mom. Most of our friends lived outside our immediate community and didn’t have children. This all added up to a nonexistent social life for my husband and me.
I needed to fix this, so I became a room parent in my son’s kindergarten class, partly to spend time with him, but also to make more friends within the school community. I also signed my son up for weekend soccer. While those activities gave me the opportunity to socialize with other moms, it was challenging to cultivate friendships. I only saw my fellow room parents a few times a -year, usually during class parties. On the soccer sidelines, I found it impossible to watch the game, keep track of my young children, and maintain conversations with other parents at the same time.
I desired deeper interactions with the smart, interesting moms I saw around school. But we all led busy lives. How could I make this happen?
“You should throw a party,” suggested a friend who happened to be a professional event planner. “I can’t do that. I don’t really know these women,” I replied quickly. I hardly even had my closest friends over to my house. The thought of hosting an adult party terrified me.
“Just invite a few people that you’ve talked to and ask them to bring along a friend. You’ll meet even more people that way. It will be fun,” my event-planner friend said. I ran this idea by my husband, and I was certain he’d agree it wouldn’t work. “Great idea,” he said. “I’ll stay upstairs with the kids, and the party can take place on the main floor.”
I picked a date and set up an electronic invitation, making a guest list of moms from my son’s soccer team, my fellow room moms, and a few other moms I’d started saying “hi” to at school pick-up. But I didn’t hit Send. I started to talk myself out of it. There were so many reasons this wouldn’t work.
注意：1. 续写词数为150左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
With four mess makers in my household, I imagined many “what ifs”.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________But you know what? Everyone showed up.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________At the time of this writing. I have reached the age of 105. As I look back, I think of the many wonderful things that have happened in my long life. many of which have served to strengthen my belief that miracles really do happen. One of these that I recall today happened many years ago but is still as fresh in my mind as if it had happened yesterday.
Peter was a Russian Wolfhound (Borzoi) with the typical tall, long-legged build of the hunter he was supposed to be but never was. He weighed close to eighty-five pounds and had the long nose and narrow head of the Borzoi, so narrow that it didn’t seem to have much room for brains. In Peter’s case, it didn’t. He became easily confused, but his gentle nature made up for his lack of intelligence.
On the day in question, I had gathered up my dogs. one Old English Sheepdog, one Whippet rescue, and Peter. They were all settled in my covered pickup truck bed, and was headed out for our daily exercise, six miles into the country where there was no leash (绳) law and they could run free. They were all trained not to chase wild animals, to stay reasonably close. and to come when called.
After I had walked for about ten minutes, I noticed one dog was missing. Peter, of course! It seemed obvious that he had stopped to investigate some irresistible (不可抗的) smell, and then, becoming confused, had turned back the way we had just come, He would easily be able to follow our track, but in the wrong direction. And when a Borzoi runs, he covers a lot of ground in a very short time.
Feeling guilty, knowing I should have kept a closer watch on him, I retraced (折返) my steps, calling and whistling, but there was no sign of him. It was winter and would soon be dark. In desperation, I started to pray. “Please God, keep Peter safe.”
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 half an hour of calling at the top of my voice. I finally decided to drive the two other dogs home.
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Upon reaching home, I discovered a long nose waiting at the doorway.
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Dmitry Bondarenko was a Toronto-based artist. One day he had an appointment with a friend for a painting session. So he put the objects including his sketchbook (速写本) in the back basket of his bike and then cycled to meet his friend. But when he arrived and turned to take his things, he was shocked to find his sketchbook was missing.
The 5×7 black sketchbook contained a decade of his works and had great emotional value to him. It included portraits of friends and family, and still life paintings of his great grandfather when he served in Red Army in Russia. The notebook became a visual account of the 40-year-old artist’s life and family history. His parents are Russian and Ukrainian, and he and his family moved to Canada when he was a child.
Dmitry shared that he felt a deep sense of loss when he first discovered his sketchbook missing. He thought that the book must have fallen out of his bicycle’s back basket. So he went back to look for it. First, he retraced his steps and posted dozens of flyers along the bike path through the park. He also checked with park services. Several days later, he still had no clue where his precious sketchbook was, making him extremely sad and anxious.
“I realized the weight of it when it was gone, how precious it is,” Bondarenko said sadly.
In a last-ditch effort to locate his treasured sketchbook, he decided to turn to social media. He shared a post to a neighborhood Facebook group, detailing his trouble. A few other community-oriented Facebook groups reshared the post. Word quickly spread within the local community for everyone to keep an eye out for the missing sketchbook.
In the meanwhile, a man named Chris found the sketchbook in the park. As he picked it up and skimmed through the pages, he found there was no name or address. The paintings in the book were so impressive that he couldn’t take his eyes off. Finally, he decided to leave the sketchbook where it was found, thinking the owner would return to look for it. He leafed through the sketchbook again before putting it down.
注意:
1. 续写词数为150 左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Suddenly, a dishonorable idea occurred to him.
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Chris Elam contacted Dmitry at once, telling him that the sketchbook was in his house.
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The year 2013 marked a turning point in my life. In June, my husband was offered a new Job in Ghana. Feeling that I had hit a career bottleneck as a photographer and copywriter (广告文字撰写人), I, without any hesitation, made the decision to relocate with him.
While my husband engaged in work, my visa didn’t grant me the same privilege. But that’s okay. I didn’t know what to do anyway. I was left isolated, homesick and lacking purpose. Our new home was a bungalow near a river that cut across expansive grasslands. With few people around our home, I turned to nature, which had been a fondness of mine since childhood. Every day, I would take my camera and wander around, photographing aimlessly.
It wasn’t long before September arrived, bringing the full flow of the rainy season. After one particularly bad thunderstorm, I found a finch (雀) — a poor little thing barely a month old with one wing broken — on the ground. Evidently, he had been abandoned by his flock, his nest blown from a tree. The sight was heartbreaking. He was the size of my lite finger. His eyes were tightly shut and he was shuddering, too young to survive alone. I somehow felt a connection with it. Immediately I scooped him up and cautiously placed him in a cardboard box with towels, mimicking a nest, and stayed up all night researching how to care for him.
The next day, he seemed to regain some energy. He woke with his mouth open, though still too weak to let out a call. I fed him some food and chirped (叽喳) at him. To my amusement, he chirped back and even climbed into my hand. I affectionately gazed at this adorable creature, who was now boldly pecking (啄) my fingers now and then. A surge of warmth ran through me. Tenderly stroking his feathers, I chirped a lullaby, singing him to sleep. Gradually, his eyes drooped and he drifted off. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene — as far as he was concerned, I was his mother.
Para 1. “I will take care of you.” I murmured, making my promise to him.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Para 2. At that moment I realized that as I dedicated myself to the finch’s care, something within me changed.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I was a vet in Yorkshire. One day I received a call from Mrs Tompkin asking me to cut the beak (喙) of her budgie (虎皮鹦鹉). I armed myself with a pair of clippers and stepped onto the narrow strip of pavement which separated the door from the road. A pleasant-looking red-haired woman answered my knock.
“I’m Mrs Dodds from next door,” she said. “I keep an eye on the old lady. She’s over eighty and lives alone.”
She led me into the cramped little room. “Here’s Mr Herriot coming to see Peter for you,” she said to the old woman who sat in a corner. Mrs Tompkin nodded and smiled, “Oh that’s good. Poor little fella can hardly eat with its long beak and I’m worried about him. He’s my only companion, you know.”
“Yes, I understand, Mrs Tompkin.” I looked at the cage by the window with the green budgie perched (栖息) inside. “These little birds can be wonderful company when they start chattering.”
She laughed, “Yes, but it’s a funny thing. Peter never has said that much. I think he’s lazy! But I just like having him with me.”
“Of course you do,” I said, “but he certainly needs attention now.”
The beak was greatly overgrown, curving away down till it touched the feathers of the breast. I would be able to revolutionize his life with one quick snip from my clippers. The way I was feeling this job was right up my street.
I opened the cage door and slowly inserted my hand.
“Come on, Peter,” I wheedled (哄骗). As I lifted him out, I felt in my pocket with the other hand for the clippers. Then I stopped.
The tiny head was no longer poking cheekily from my fingers but had fallen loosely to one side. The eyes were closed. He was dead.
Mrs Dodds and I looked at each other in horror. When I turned my head towards Mrs Tompkin, I was surprised to see that she was still nodding and smiling.
I drew her neighbor to one side. “Mrs Dodds, how much does she see?”
“Oh, she’s very short-sighted but she’s right vain despite her age. Never would she wear glasses. She’s hard of hearing, too.”
“Well, look,” I said. My heart was still pounding. “I just don’t know what to do. If I tell her about this, the shock will be terrible. Anything could happen.”
Mrs Dodds nodded, stricken-faced. “Yes, you’re right. She’s that attached to the little thing.”
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。
I decided to do something for her instead of telling her the truth.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________It was a long time before I went to see how Mrs Tompkin got along with the bird I bought for her.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A few years ago，we adopted(收养) a lovely dog whom we named Gypsy. We didn’t know her age, background, or how she ended up wandering the streets of a large southern city with no owner. But we felt sure she’d had a difficult life, as she moved back whenever we wanted to touch her. She seemed particularly afraid of strange men. Gradually, Gypsy adapted to her new home with us, and she followed me around everywhere I went silently. Nothing seemed to make her bark (叫)，but we thought she was just a quiet dog as she seemed happy with us otherwise.
Not long after we brought her home, I had an operation on my leg. Gypsy seemed to dislike the coming and going of doctors, and visiting nurses-especially the males. She was still silent, but she barked at the ones she liked least. This led us to believe it must have been a male who had mistreated her before.
One day about a year after my operation, I was in the bathroom giving Gypsy a bath. Suddenly，I fell onto the floor. Luckily，I fell between the tub(浴盆) and water pipe. If I had hit one of them, I feel certain that would have been the end of me.
Unfortunately, I had no way to seek for help. The door was closed, and I didn’t have my phone with me. My husband wouldn’t be home from work for hours, so I did the only thing I could think of: I started shouting for help as loudly as I could.
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。
Gypsy was clearly confused(困惑的) by my shouting.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Soon, my neighbor was in the house.
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