In our kitchen,there was a wooden table and three chairs-one for Pa,one for Ma,and one for me.I tried not to look at Pa's empty place.Pa had gone to the city to look for work.He had been gone for a long time.
Every night,lying awake in bed,I waited for the train to stop,waited for the sound of his work boots dropping on the step,and waited for his voice calling,“I'm home!"
Every night,as I lay there,I stared at the window and the curtains Ma made from empty flour sacks(面粉袋）。Sometimes the train stopped-for someone else' s Pa coming home.Not mine,not yet.
Every night,Ma came to kiss me good-night-after the train had gone by.She had been listening,too. “Go to sleep.Your Pa will be home soon.Maybe for Thanksgiving.”
How could I be thankful without my Pa?
I went to sleep with the sound of train wheels in my head,whispering,“Maybe tomorrow,maybe tomorrow.”
One morning,the smell of coffee woke me.I ran into the kitchen.There he was!Pa lifted me onto his shoulders."How's my boy?You've gotten so big that I can barely lift you up anymore.”
He put me down,and I stared at the two sacks on the table.One said FLOUR.I tried reading the other: S-U-G-A-R.Pa whistled admiringly and winked(眨眼）at me.Ma didn't say no when Pa sprinkled(撒）a bit of that precious white sugar on my bread.
Ma said,"I'm going to bake a pie for your Pa's homecoming dinner.Go downstairs,Jimmy,and bring me that jar of apples."She smiled at me with a"mind now"look.
There was no need.I knew how to be careful.It was the last jar-the one we had been saving and saving to welcome Pa home."When Pa comes home,there' ll be apple pic."I could hardly remember what pies tasted like.
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。
Paragraph 1:
I took the steps two at a time.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Paragraph 2:
Seeing this,I felt like crying.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I handed the card from my school's help-wanted board to the man behind the counter of Mort's Deli （熟食店). Even before I opened my mouth, he was shaking his head.
It was September 1957, and my family had just arrived in California. My father only got work two or three days a week. Our poor savings were gone, and as the eldest boy of the family, I was the only one able to help.
''Let me work the rest of the week, and if you don’t like the way I do the job, don't pay me,'' I said. The tall man stared at me, and then nodded, ''I'm Mort Robin. What's your name?''
At Mort's, I worked very hard. Near the end of the day he called me up to him. ''How much did that card at school say this job paid?'' he asked. ''One dollar an hour,'' I whispered. Actually I was willing to take less.
''That's not enough for someone who works as hard as you,'' Mort said. ''You start at 1.25.'' Over the next few weeks, I learned a lot about Mort. A few years older than my dad, he was from Chicago and had a daughter at my age. When things were slow, he often shared stories from his army days. Our store was closed on Sundays, so every Saturday evening Mort urged me to take home the leftover soup. It was a meal in itself, a treat for my struggling family.
One Saturday after work, I was about to step in my house when I saw a large bald man in my father's chair. He was shouting at my father. I quietly walked into the kitchen and listened through the door. The man wanted to take our car. I had been in Los Angeles just long enough to understand how essential a car was. Dad offered to make the three payments that were due, but the man demanded the entire sum - $325, or the car.
I slipped out of the door, thinking: Who might have $325? Who would even consider lending me so much money?
Paragraph 1
The only person I could think of was Mort.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Paragraph 2
I calmly handed the man the money.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.
Growing up, I wanted to be just like my mom. Kind and caring, she always seemed to make people comfortable in her presence. For years she was a volunteer in our community. I loved going to the local nursing home to help with her until I hit my preteen years. Suddenly, I was too caught up in my adolescent world to worry about helping others.
One particular summer day when I was twelve, Mom came into my room and told me to get up and meet her at the car. I had planned to spend the day at the lake with friends. Why did she have to ruin everything? Eventually, I made my way outside. I imagined the lake water cooling my skin. Annoyed, I climbed into the car and slammed the door shut. I sat in silence, too upset to make a conversation.
“Tasha, would you like to know where we are going?” Mom asked calmly.
“I guess…,” I murmured under my breath.
“Sweetheart, we are going to a children’s shelter, I have been there before and I think it would benefit you,” she explained.
I felt a knot slowly form in my stomach. How was I supposed to help there?
When we reached the shelter, I was rather surprised. It was a large white Victorian home. As we approached the large front porch, wind bells played a calming tune while trees and blossoms welcomed us. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.
Mom rang the doorbell. The door flew open and we were led to the front room, where all of the children were playing. Toys were spread out across the floor. I noticed a baby whose body was scarred with wounds. The majority of the children had noticeable physical scars（伤疤） such as cuts, scratches and burns. What a terrible life they had before they moved here! My heart sank.
As I was looking around, I felt a gentle pull on my shirt.____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I returned to the shelter with Mom several times._______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
An 80yearold man was sitting on the sofa in his house along with his 45yearold highly educated son．Suddenly a crow(乌鸦) perched on their window.
The father asked his son，“What is this？”The son replied，“It is a crow.”
After a few minutes，the father asked his son the 2nd time，“What is this？”The son said，“Father，I have just now told you‘It's a crow.’”
After a little while，the old father again asked his son the 3rd time，“What is this？”
At this time some expression of irritation was felt in the son's tone when he said to his father with a rebuff.“It's a cow，a cow.”
A little while later，the father again asked his son the 4th time，“What is this？”
This time the son shouted at his father.“Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again，although I have told you so many times‘IT IS A CROW’．Are you not able to understand this？”
A little while later the father went to his room and came back with an old tattered diary，which he had maintained since his son was born.
On opening a page，he asked his son to read that page.
When the son read it，the following words were written in the diary：
“Today my little son aged three was sitting with me on the sofa，when a crow was sitting on the window. My son asked me 23 times what it was，and I replied to him all 23 times that it was a crow. I hugged him lovingly each time he asked me the same question again and again for 23 times. I did not at all feel irritated but I rather felt affection for my innocent child.”
注意：1.所续写短文的词数应为150左右；
2．至少使用5个短文中标有下划线的关键词语；
3．续写部分分为两段，每段的开头语已为你写好；
4．续写完成后，请用下划线标出你所使用的关键词语。
Paragraph 1：
After reading the diary，
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Paragraph 2：
Feeling ashamed，the son got down on his knees before his father.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
As the mother of an eleven-year-old girl, I have read several books that tell parents how to bring up a girl to be beautiful, elegant, confident, and rich. However, I have always believed that girls need to be brave above all else, but this is easier said than done.
I still remember I couldn’t see the screen directly when my daughter switched to the animal channel, which was broadcasting a show about snakes. I stood as far away from the TV as possible, too scared to open my eyes. However, my little angel was not scared of the snakes. In fact, she watched the show with a keen interest. I was relieved that my daughter didn’t get too many genetic phobias(遗传恐惧症). Even to this day, she is still obsessed with challenging herself with new things.
This year, I got a chance to study in Singapore for six months. After the novelty of the first few days had gone, I found myself missing my family. With the summer vacation approaching, my husband agreed to make good use of the fact that I was staying in Singapore. He brought our daughter out to visit me and to enjoy the new experience in a new country.
The reunion day finally came. My husband and my daughter arrived in the second week of July. I was so looking forward to seeing them. I had made many preparations for their visit. On the first day, I arranged for us to see Gardens by the Bay. When we walked out of the MRT station, we were amazed by the sight of the Super Trees. When my daughter saw lots of people walking on the Skyway, she couldn’t help shouting excitedly that she wanted to have a try. The Skyway is a 22-meter-high suspension bridge from which you can enjoy a birds eye view. Last time I came here with my friends, I firmly rejected their repeated attempts to challenge me to go up there. It was like the day with the snakes all over again. But could I really reject my little angel?
Paragraph 1:My daughter was waiting for my reply. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Paragraph 2:Halfway across the bridge, I had to stop. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
My crippled(瘸腿) grandmother was dancing. I stood in the living room doorway, absolutely shocked. I heard her sing when I opened the door but did not want to interrupt her by shouting I had arrived. She was wearing beautiful dancing shoes and her legs obeyed her perfectly. As long as I could remember, she was once the pet of the dancing world. But it was all over after a sudden accident. She had always limped(一瘸一拐地走)，helped with a cane(拐杖).
She turned around and saw me standing in the doorway. Her song ended, and her beautiful movements with it. Grandma turned towards the kitchen. She was walking with no difficulties in her beautiful shoes. I followed her, not believing my eyes.
“So…” I asked surprisedly but happily, “How did your leg heal（康复）?”
“To tell you the truth—my legs have been well all my life,” she said.
“But I don’t understand!” I said, “ I mean… You pretended all these years?
“Very much so,” Grandmother closed her eyes, “And for a very good reason.”
“What reason?”
“Your grandfather.”
“You mean he told you not to dance?”
“No, this was my choice. I am sure I would have lost him if I had continued dancing. I weighed fame（名声）and love against each other and love won.”
“We were talking about engagement（订婚）when your grandfather had to go to war. It was the most terrible day of my life when he left. I was so afraid of losing him, the only way I could stay peaceful was to dance. And then one day a letter came. There were only three sentences:‘I have lost my leg. I am no longer a whole man and now give you back your freedom. It is best you forget about me.’”
Grandma continued to tell me that Grandfather was in hospital and she made her decision not to give him up. She took her leave, and traveled away from the city.
Several weeks later, she returned.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________She took a deep breath, leaned on her cane and limped to Grandfather.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
