I didn’t like Del so much. He always called me the nickname “Germy”, which meant “dirty”, instead of my real name “Jamie”. Besides, he was known as a trouble-maker in school. So when the head teacher Mr. Smith asked Del to come to his office, I naturally thought that Del had done something mean to someone. Through the window, I caught sight of a smaller boy crying. Del seemed unhappy, too.
He did not return to class that day. All of us were discussing what had happened to him. What else could such an annoying boy do? “He must have hit the boy and was sent home,” I whispered to my friends. Their eyes widened. It felt good to see them so interested in what I said.
The next morning, the whole school was talking about Del being expelled(开除) for beating up a kid. I was surprised that my assumptions were passed on so quickly. So when Del walked into the classroom, all the kids were shocked. The kids next to him shift ed their desks away. “What’s your problem?” Del asked. “I don’t want you to attack me,” one kid said. Some laughed. “Yeah, I might,” said Del. I could tell he was joking, but many kids thought he admitted he did beat up someone.
During recess(课间休息), Del tried to join the kickball game. “Neither team wants you,” one of the players said. “Why?” Del asked, looking confused. “I always play with you guys.” They ignored him and went on playing. Del sat by himself while the rest of the school enjoyed their recess away from him. Del looked lonely and sad, much different from before. I started to feel sorry for him.
Later that day, I learned what really happened. The kid was Del’s little brother and he was crying because their mother fell ill and was sent to hospital. I felt even sorrier for what I said before. I started a rumor(谣言).
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。
At recess the next day, I saw Del sitting alone watching the kickball game.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Now that Del had forgiven me, I decided to do more before the recess was over.
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“Sai Baba! Sai Baba! Hahahaha!” Rani’s cheeks burned with shame and tears welled up in her eyes as she pushed her way to the exit through the crowd of laughing boys in the packed school bus. It wasn’t the first time she’d been called Sai Baba, after the famous Hindu holy man she’d seen on TV with his trademark afro (非洲式卷发) towering over his head. But this time was the worst. Rani jumped off the school bus and landed hard in the muddy rainwater. It had been a Friday full of disasters! Angry thoughts ran inside Rani’s head as she marched home in the drizzling rain. Why did the rain have to come pouring down so hard just at the end of the school day? Why did she have to forget her raincoat back home? Why did her hair have to be like a giant cotton candy balloon just when she wanted it to behave? Why, why, why, Rani grew angrier as she turned the back door key.
“Rani, is that you?” Papa called from the family room.
“I hate my hair!” Rani cried as tears of anger and shame streamed down her cheeks.
“Why, your hair’s beautiful!”
“Then why does everyone make fun of it al the time? The boys teased me about my hair on the bus ride back home…” She paused and then tore at her hair and pulled out a couple of paper balls stuck in it. “Look, they even shot paper balls at my hair.”
Papa went up to Rani, hugging her tightly in his arms. “Listen! Those boys are bullies. They did so only to get an emotional response from you. What you need to do is either ignore them or speak up for yourself.”
Rani nodded uncertainly, remembering the hours, days and weeks she had spent trying to bring her hair under control. “Papa?” she murmured, “I don’t want to participate in the speech competition on Monday.”
“Why?” Papa sounded puzzled.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________The next Monday morning dawned bright and it was time for the competition.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________We were sitting in her classroom, giggling, playing tricks on each other and talking about the latest information of the day. Mrs. Virginia DeView cleared her throat and asked us to be quiet.
“Now,” she said smiling, “we are going to discover our professions.” The class seemed to gasp(喘气) in chorus. Our professions? We stared at each other in disbelief. After all, we were only 13 and 14 years old.
Because Virginia DeView was demanding, most of us just overlooked her brilliance.
“Yes, you will all be searching for your future professions,” she said with a glow on her face as though this was the best thing she did in her classroom every year. “You will have to do a research paper on your upcoming career. Each of you will have to interview someone in your field, plus give an oral report.”
All of us went home confused. Who knows what they want to do at 13? I had narrowed it down, however. I liked art, singing and writing. But I was terrible in art, and when I sang, my sisters screamed: “Oh, please shut up.” The only thing left was writing.
Every day in her class, Virginia DeView monitored us. Where were we? Who had picked their careers? Finally, most of us had selected something: I picked print journalism（新闻工作）. This meant I had to interview a devoted newspaper reporter in person, and I was terrified. Sensing this, for the next 90 minutes, Mrs. Virginia DeView filled me with stories about print journalism…
A few days later, I gave my oral report totally from memory. Surprisingly, I got an A on the entire project.
Years later, I forgot all about Virginia DeView and the careers we selected. I was in college hunting for a new career. My father wanted me in business, which seemed to be sound advice at the time, except that I had no sense of any business skills. Then I remembered Virginia DeView and my desire at 13 to be a journalist.
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。
Paragraph 1: I called my father.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Paragraph 2: Now I've had the most incredible and satisfying reporting career.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Tom adored does very much and he always fed the homeless dogs, enjoying the company of those lovely animals.
It was a nice holiday. Tom’s parents sent him to his Aunt’s house, where there was a a little dog called KiKi. The dog had golden fur which felt very comfortable, like touching the soft cotton. Every time KiKi saw Tom, it would leap to its feet. wagging his tail and his eyes sparkling with excitement.
However, KiKi was unhappy in the house He was not given his meals on time, nor was he taken for a walk. KiKi was always shouted at and abused all day. “Your aunt bought KiKi so that the dog could protect her house from thieves, but actually she doesn’t love him”, a neighbour of Tom’s aunt told him one day.
Tom felt sad. At night he could hear KiKi make mournful sounds in the cold.“Why don’t you make a coat for your pet?”Tom paused and said, “He feels cold.” His aunt answered, “I have much better things to do. It’s just a dog!”
One day Tom went out for a walk with KiKi, when a fierce storm started. Tom ran to take shelter in a sweet shop. It was only after a few minutes that he realized that KiKi was not with him. “The storm separated us”, Tom was sad, telling his aunt. “I searched the entire place with the help of the sweet shop owner but I couldn’t find him.”Tom’s aunt posted an advertisement in the paper. After all she had spent a lot of money buying KiKi and did not want to lose him.
It was a half-hour ride by bus. The middle-aged lady who greeted KiKi was a motherly sort of a woman. She and her husband had answered Tom’s aunt’s advertisement in the paper. Since Tom’s aunt was out on an official tour, Tom had been sent to check on the dog. “He is asleep.” the lady said. “Come and have a look. It is so cute, just like our dead dog, CiCi. We love him so much.”
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。
Paragraph 1: Tom went into the room and looked at the dog. That’s the lost dog he was looking for.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Paragraph2: After a moment of hesitation, Tom struggled to say that the dog was not his aunt’s.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I still remember what I felt on a bright Saturday morning in late September, at a five-kilometer race in Clarkston, Georgia.
It was an unusual morning. About an hour earlier, when we drove into town to participate in the race, my 11-year-old son noticed a green tree cricket（蟋蟀） on my car. It was friendly, no longer than a fingernail. It jumped onto my son’s finger, and walked across my shirt, and then went back to my son’s hand, where it stayed so long that we eventually gave it a name: Little Friend.
The walk from the car to the registration table was perhaps a quarter of a mile. Little Friend stayed with my son. Then, we walked back across the railroad tracks and waited for the race to start. A few minutes before the race, Little Friend either fell or jumped off my son’s hand and landed on the sidewalk. Maybe it wanted to go free. But this was not a good place for that. Pedestrian（行人） traffic was heavy, so Little Friend was in danger. My son knelt and reached out his hand. It came back.
The race was about to start, and the tiny green insect was in for a wild ride. My son would run fast, and the race would be long. The race began. I ran well enough, and felt excited at the finish line. But that thrill gave way to anxiety when my son didn’t show up.
I knew he could run 5 kilometers in about 30 minutes. When I didn’t see him at the 35-minute mark, I began to wonder what had gone wrong. And as the 40-minute mark approached and he still didn’t appear, I went out looking for him. Had he got lost? I crossed the railroad tracks and looked down a long straightaway, hoping to see his face. Finally, there he was, just ahead of the 45-minute mark.
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。
Little Friend was riding proudly on one finger of my son’s right hand.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Smiling, we walked back to the car with Little Friend.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________My husband Kenny and I grew up playing sports. We both worked in the field of physical education and coach youth high school track and field. So, Kenny and I weren’t surprised when our daughter, Becky, showed early athletic promise.
Watching her outrun other kids on the playground, I knew she was destined for winning medals on the track. Slowly but surely, track took over our lives. Weekends were devoted to training. We stopped taking vacations so the girl wouldn’t miss any practices. We missed her birthdays and family outings. I even restricted the time she could spend hanging out with her friends, which would consume the energy she needed for competition:
We didn’t really ask Becky if that was what she wanted. Of course she did! Who wouldn’t want to use a God-given talent to the fullest? Occasionally, Becky would open up after a loss, “I wish you were the same even if I have a bad day on the track. I feel like you don’t accept me just for who I am.”
Honestly, that hurt. In my heart, I knew what she said was true. I could behave more like a coach than a Mom on the sideline. But I didn’t mind. Ensuring her on the track of winning was my only goal. I probably cared more about the medals than she did. By the time Becky started middle school, our family life had revolved around (以……为中心) practices and competitions. I had visions of college scholarships, maybe even the Olympics.
One day, at a regional Junior Olympics qualifying event, she twisted her leg and ended up in a heavy fall, screaming in pain. This was not supposed to happen. Kenny and I pushed her too hard the day before and she attempted to break the record which was clearly beyond her reach.
We rushed her to the hospital right away. Never did I imagine sitting in a doctor’s office, staring at the X-ray result as the doctor calmly explained that Becky’s posterior cruciate ligament (后十字韧带) — the thick tissue stabilizing the back of her knee—was torn.
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。
“Her professional career as an athlete was over,” the doctor broke the news to me.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Following the hard-fought recovery, I watched her running with a new attitude.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I sat in the breakfast corner with my four-year-old son, Matthew, trying to ignore the ache in my stomach. I was still recovering from a surgery. I hoped for strength and happiness. But the future seemed so hopeless.
Matthew jumped up from his spot on the kitchen floor. “Bird!” he shouted, rushing to the sliding door. Sure enough, there was a white dove seated on a rubber tree. It sat there a few moments, and then flew away. I’d never seen one in our neighborhood before.
When I dragged myself to the kitchen the next morning, the dove was back. This time it was with a mate carrying twigs (嫩枝), “Look, Matthew,” I said, pointing to the tree. “They’re going to make a nest.” The doves flew in and out of the courtyard all week, building on the top of the rubber tree. Matthew could hardly contain his excitement. Every morning, he’d run into the kitchen and take his spot by the sliding glass door, talking to the birds while they worked. As much as I was grieving (感到悲伤), I couldn’t help but look forward to the doves’ visits too. We watched their progress as if it were a real-life soap opera unfolding before us. Gradually, my pain disappeared, replaced by joy.
Then it all went wrong. The courtyard was a safe enough spot for a nest, but the rubber tree’s broad, thin leaves were far from stable. One night, a strong wind blew through, throwing the doves’ nest to the ground. I heard the twigs break apart. Nothing good ever lasts. I wouldn’t blame the doves if they never came back. But they returned. And they paid no attention to the pi le of sticks that had once been their nest. They started again from scratch, though the wind destroyed all their hard work. The next day, and the next, they renewed their efforts, as if nothing had happened.
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。
Paragraph 1: I knew I had to do something for the poor creatures.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Paragraph 2:“The birds were back!” Matthew announced.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Every day, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Abigail would go over to look at herself in the mirror, thinking the same thing: I am just so ... ordinary.
It all started once she entered middle school, where her grades in all subjects were OK but not great, and she couldn’t sing or dance that well, or play sports. She wasn’t even good at making jokes as she was so shy.
As she continued to go down the same mind spiral of “you’re not good enough, what kind of job could you get in the future being someone so ordinary?”, she checked the clock and rushed out the door to get to school on time.
Along the way, she saw Peter walking ahead of her. As one of the class’s top students, he was just so smart and dedicated. Peter always stayed behind after math class to continue working on the equations. He was so obsessed and talented.
A few mornings later in class, something seemed a bit off with Abigail’s teacher, Mr Fry. He was normally quite active, moving quickly from the whiteboard to the podium (讲台) to explain some new knowledge points. But that morning, Abigail noticed that he seemed slower, not very with it. Then, as he asked the students to copy down a math equation, Mr Fry began shaking and then started to fall. Immediately, Abigail rushed from her seat in the fourth row, managing to catch him just in time. He had fainted. “Someone go get the head teacher now!” yelled Abigail in a loud, clear voice. Fifteen minutes later, Abigail and her classmates watched out the classroom window at Mr Fry being wheeled across the parking lot on a stretcher (担架) to be put into an ambulance.
After two weeks off, Mr Fry was back, entering the classroom again to a round of applause from the students. His presence brought a sense of relief and normalcy to the room, easing their worry about his sudden illness.
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。
As soon as the lunch bell rang, Mr Fry pulled Abigail aside.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________“Extraordinary”, the word echoed in Abigail’s mind as she walked home from school that day.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________There are too many treasures in life we take for granted, the worth of which we don’t fully realize until they’re pointed out to us in some unexpected way. So it was with Mama’s minestrone soup (意大利浓菜汤).
There was no recipe for her minestrone soup. For our large immigrant family, Mama’s soup guaranteed we would never go hungry. It was a symbol of security. Its recipe was created spontaneously (非计划安排地) from what was in the kitchen. And we could judge the state of our family economy by its contents. A hearty soup with tomatoes, pasta, beans, carrots, celery, onion, corn and meat indicated things were going well. A water y soup suggested hard times.
At one time, however, Mama’s soup pot became a source of embarrassment to me, for I feared it would cost me a new friend I had made at school. Sol was a thin, dark-haired boy, and an unusual pal for me because his father was a doctor and they lived in the best part of town. Often Sol invited me to his home for dinner. The family had a cook in a white uniform who worked in a kitchen with shining utensils (厨房用具). The food was good, but I found it bland (清淡的), lacking the heartiness of my home food served from flame-blackened pots. Moreover, the atmosphere matched the food. Everything was so formal. Sol’s mother and father were polite, but conversation around the table was subdued (克制的). And no one hugged! In our family, warm hugs were a constant and if you didn’t kiss your mother, she demanded: “What’s the matter, you sick?” But at that time in my life, all this was an embarrassment.
I had known Sol would like to eat dinner at our house, but that was the last thing I wanted. My family was so different.
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。
Finally when Sol asked again if he could come to our house, I had to say yes.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________But to my amazement, I noticed Sol took a spoonful of Mama’s minestrone soup.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Ninny grew up with her grandparents. Her grandmother worked as a housekeeper, and her grandfather was too weak to move. In his wheelchair, Grandfather told her stories about flowers, princesses and sunrises. Those stories always ended with the same message: A simple act of kindness creates an endless ripple (涟漪) that comes back to you.
One day, Ninny was at the supermarket with her grandmother. They only bought the bare minimum. “Oh!” Ninny jumped when she spotted a chocolate cake. She pulled her grandmother’s sleeve. “Grandfather’s birthday is around the corner! Can we please, please, please have it?” The old lady eyed the chocolate cake. There were beautiful decorations on the top with fancy designs on the side. Picking up the cake, Grandmother took a close look at the price and sighed, “Ninny, we can’t afford it. It’s $40!”
Ninny pouted (噘嘴), trying to convince her grandmother. Yet she knew that her grandmother would not bend, even if she begged with her puppy eyes. No matter what, money did not grow on trees. Ninny sighed and turned around. Grandmother gave her a sad smile and turned towards the cashier.
Almost out of nowhere, a man with a 50 dollar bill and the chocolate cake approached her and handed these things to Ninny. “Have them, dear.”
Ninny took a closer look at the man. He was average. Average face, average clothes, and average everything. He was just a random man.
The man bent down and maintained eye contact with Ninny. “Do you know why I’m giving you these?” Ninny shook her head. “When I was a little boy, a man bought me a chocolate cake. He just overheard a conversation I had with my mother. Nothing else. He gave me some money and a small slip of paper. Then he left.” The man reached into his pocket and took out a dog-eared piece of paper. Looking at the words written, Ninny wore a smile on her face, for she was so familiar with the message.
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。
Ninny hugged the dollar bill, cake and the piece of paper to her chest.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Grandfather’s eyes widened, “You won’t believe it!”
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