I like staying overnight at my Gramma’s house — that is, until Gramma starts telling me how wonderful my cousin Maya is. Then it’s Maya this and Maya that until I don’t ever want to hear another word about her.
That’s why I wasn’t too excited when Gramma called me on the phone to “come on over and bring your pajamas.” When I got there, it was worse than I’d expected. There, in Grandpa’s big leather rocker, sat Maya, all dressed up and formal-looking and wearing fancy shoes as if she’d just been to a party.
“Surprise, Kristen!” Gramma said. “Your cousin Maya and her parents have traveled in from the East Coast on business. Maya gets to stay with us this afternoon.” Gramma chattered away about how excited she’d been for this surprise get-together, and how cousins ought to get to know each other better.
I hung my baseball cap in the closet and set my backpack by the stairway, all the time smiling and nodding as if I’d been waiting forever for this chance to spend an afternoon with Maya. Grandpa’s chair squawked (咯咯叫) as Maya rocked back and forth. It’s the chair I like best in the house, the one I usually sit in. I sat down on the sofa across from her.
Shortly, Gramma went off to the kitchen to “see about some lunch,” she’d said. That left me stuck in the living room with rocking Maya.
She was still small but taller than I’d remembered her from her last visit four years ago. She was good at small talk, though, and was chatting away about how nice it was to see me again. But I could tell that she didn’t really think so. The last time she was here, we’d had hours of fun together building caves out of Gramma’s sofa pillows.
After that, I’d heard about her only through Gramma’s tales. Maya taking piano lessons. Maya learning math. Maya, Maya, Maya. Now Maya was here, looking great with the latest haircut and a fancy dress.
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Glancing down at my jeans and my old sneakers, I wished I hadn’t come.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________“How do you know all these things about me?” I asked.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________The Right Thing
My mother worked as a housekeeper and she was often given used toys as well as many other goodies by her clients. My elder sister and I always loved sharing the recycled books and board games brought home by my beloved mom, which we considered great gifts life presented us.
The long-awaited Christmas finally approached. One December day, an old model toy car arrived in the load of goods. It was as long as my forearm and took both hands to lift. My sister didn’t want it, so it was all mine. I immediately set down to wiping it clean and polishing it to a bright candy-apple red. It turned to be a thing of beauty, and I became overjoyed at possessing it. My elder sister was amazed at the newly-polished, refreshing toy car, with a hint of regret and envy in her eyes.
As was planned, our relatives from France came to visit us that Christmas. It was a time when the family bond got strengthened. I shared the prized toy car with Alex, my young French cousin. Eyes glued to it, he fell in love with the wonderful, shiny red automobile the instant he saw it. It was a rare moment to see him feeling so relieved and happy. He’d been unlucky so far in life, suffering severe, life-threatening illnesses as a child, leaving him mentally and physically stuck and the family starved of cash. Of course, such lovely toys like my dear model car were unreachable dreams for him.
Seeing Alex’s consuming thrill brought by the red car, I was seized by immense joy as well. But contrary to Alex’s excitement, a voice inside me constantly reminded, “Watch out! He’d keep it for himself.”, which got me faintly worried. I followed my cousin for fear of something.
My mother also noticed Alex’s fondness for the car. Approaching me, she asked gently in a low voice, “Would you like to give it to Alex?”
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Giving or keeping? I struggled with myself.
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In the moment of parting, my model car went with Alex.
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Rick, a ten-year-old boy, was constantly angry at everything around him. He always fought in school with the other kids. Once he had an outburst in school. Upset by something a classmate said to him, he pushed the boy, and a fight happened. When the teacher stepped in to break it up, Rick went crazy, throwing papers and books around the classroom and rushing out. His teachers couldn’t say anything that would comfort the kid. And the parents of his schoolmates were getting concerned. Rick was earning quite the reputation. After talking with school officials, Rick’s mom tried everything she could to calm Rick down.
She tried different methods until one day she came home with a canvas (画布) and paint. “What’s this?”, Rick asked. Rick’s mom handed over the painting equipment and said, “Whenever you feel angry, paint whatever you’re angry about instead of bursting out.” Rick wasn’t that happy about it but he gave it a try anyway. Over the next few weeks, the young boy created several artworks. They mostly showed disturbing images though. So his mom took all of the paintings and called Rick over so that they could talk about them. “Tell me, Rick. What are these paintings about?”
“Well, the first painting is about how some of the kids show off their new clothes and pencil cases. The next painting is about my teacher who keeps telling me about how I’m doing things wrong. And the last painting is about how one of my schoolmate’s father suggested that I change my attitude. All of them make me so angry.” Rick’s mom, in a calm voice, took Rick by her side and told him: “Don’t you see it, Rick?” “See what?” Rick asked. “You’re so angry at all of these things but not once did you try to understand why you’re getting so angry. What have all these people done to you, really?”
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Rick was lost in thought.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Rick knew it was time to change.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I still remember the day when we decorated the house, I was ten and it was two weeks before Christmas. I was looking forward to my presents. Since I’m the youngest in the family, all of the family members would give me a gift one way or another. Sometimes it was a cookie or a hug but it was always there. I was the only center of attention and it was feeling good.
My uncles usually would ask me what I wanted before Christmas and that year I knew what I wanted. It was the spaceship I saw in the ads. I was dreaming of opening a big gift box, and it was there. But that year it came in a way that I wasn’t expecting.
It was two weeks before Christmas. Just two weeks. She couldn’t wait. My dear mother told my father that it was time, and then we went to the hospital. After an hour, they told me that I had a sister now. But I didn’t want a sister. I wanted a spaceship. The next few days went so fast. No one was caring about me. Everyone was talking about her and I knew that my life is never going to be the same ever again. I wasn’t ready to grow up, to be a big brother. But it just happened in an instant.
On the day before Christmas, everyone was in our home, talking only about my newborn sister. My family was becoming hers. Even my uncles didn’t ask me anything about the gift. She stole everything I’d ever had, my life and my presents. Thinking about this, I cried to sleep. I had a nightmare (噩梦) and woke up at the middle of the night. Shadows were all around me, and I was defenseless and so weak. I ran into my parents’ bedroom but couldn’t wake up my poor parents who were just too worn out. I was standing near their bed, trying not to cry when I saw her. She was awake and looking at me with her big eyes in her small bed.
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Suddenly a long shadow came into the bedroom and she started crying.
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After having comforted her, something slowly changed inside me.
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As the bell was about to ring, our teacher announced a special assignment for next Monday: to share our gratitude for someone instead of giving a daily report. Hearing this, anxiety crawled over my body as the last thing I would do was speaking in front of the entire class! I couldn’t help complaining to my best friend Jenny.
“You are the chief violinist in our school orchestra, aren’t you?” she said. “So what’s the point of being afraid of speaking to a few our own classmates since you can handle acting in front of a large audience?”
Her point made sense, but being in a performance meant being part of a team. I shook my head. Besides, there were so many people I was grateful to, and choosing just one seemed difficult. Even if I could pick someone, I wouldn’t know how to say thank you. And even if I figured out what to say, I was sure I’d stumble(结巴地说) on my words when speaking aloud! Standing there, with everyone’s eyes on me, I would feel the spot light was wholly on me, and there would be no place for me to hide! “Oh no!” I covered my face with my hands and said, “I can’t do it, just can’t!” Real friends, the ones who know you well, don’t just do exactly what you ask. Jenny, always supportive and helpful, wrote something on a piece of paper and gently removed my hands from my face. She had drawn a cute cat with the word “CALM” written below it.
“Nice meeting you; I am the ‘everything will be fine’ cat,” Jenny laughed and sounded exactly like a cat. Pretending to listen to the cat, she asked, “Well, kitty, you think my friend should come to my house tomorrow, so we can prepare our speeches together I laughed out loud and relaxed a lot. I have to say Jenny was there for me, always!”
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2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
The next day, I went to Jenny’s house.
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Before the speech, however, I changed my mind and wrote “Jenny” on the blackboard.
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My parents grew up poor. But as a family, we were comfortable, though we didn’t have much what would be considered luxuries. One year, my father went on a trip to Italy and brought my mother an opal ring. It was her favorite stone, and she cherished that ring. It represented Dad’s love for her.
Dad died at the age of 53 in 1980 after a grueling battle with cancer. Mom was working at Burlington Coat Factory Department store. She usually wore the ring to work. Over the years, the ring became impossible for my Mom to wear because of her swollen knuckles (指关节). I had the ring fitted with a clasp so that Mom could wear it again. She took great pride in the frequent compliments as she got on that ring.
One day during her shift, the ring slipped off. She didn’t realize it until the following day. Mom was sad. The ring did not have a high monetary value, but it meant as much to her as life itself. I decided to go and look for it.
I encountered Chloe, one of my Mom’s co-workers at my Mom’s workplace. She led me to the store where Mom worked, and then left. It was packed with clothes, racks and tables. I started row by row crawling on the floor to see if I could find the ring underneath all the clothes. When I got to the last row and hadn’t found the ring, the thought occurred to me that it might have fallen into the pocket of a coat as my Mom was hanging or rearranging the clothes. I started feeling around in the pockets of some of the coats, but quickly abandoned. There were at least 20,000 pieces of clothing in that department. The attempt seemed useless.
注意：续写的词数应为150左右;
I stood by a small table in disappointment when Chloe came in.
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I called my Mom and now I was choking back tears.
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Jack was a bright and curious child, always eager to learn new things and explore the mysterious world about science. However, he often found himself in disagreement with his mother. His mother was always busy with her work and she didn’t have enough time to learn about his interests and passions.
One day, Jack came home from school feeling particularly excited. He just found a sci-fi book about an adventure on the moon. Upon arriving at home, he couldn’t tear himself away from the book. He read and read until it was dark. Having finished reading it, he couldn’t wait to share it with his mother, only to be told that he should focus on more practical subjects like math and history, which would help him get into a good college and have a successful career.
Jack couldn’t understand why his mother didn’t see the value in what he was doing. He felt that she was holding him back and not allowing him to pursue his true interests. “Why can’t you see how important this is to me?” Jack asked his mother angrily. “I’m never going to be happy if I have to spend my life doing things that I show no interest in just because they are practical or make you proud.”
The once peaceful home was filled with tension and anger. His mother’s voice grew louder as she shouted, “You can’t just do whatever you want! You should be responsible for your future!” Jack, fueled by his own frustration, shot back, “I am tired of you always telling me what to do! I am not a child anymore! You only care about your own feeling! You never thought about my feeling!” They were so caught up in their own anger and hurt that they failed to see how their words and actions were affecting each other.
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2．请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Jack rushed into his bedroom and locked the door heavily.
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When Jack heard his mother’s words, regretful tears rolled down his face.
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As a child, I clearly remembered watching the PBS cartoon character Arthur get glasses. The poor guy felt ashamed and was laughed at by other kids due to his glasses. So I was thankful that I had good eyesight.
However, when I entered the eighth grade, I could no longer see very clearly the writing on the blackboard. Luckily, I was usually seated in the front of the classroom, and my study was not affected. So I didn't turn to glasses.
During my first year in high school, my eyesight became poorer. My eyes were examined, and the doctor determined that my eyesight was quite bad. I would either have to wear glasses full time, or try contact lenses (隐形眼镜). Since I had watched the cartoon character Arthur before, I was afraid to be judged by others due to my glasses — it made me believe the glasses would affect a person’s beauty. And being a teenage girl, I cared much about my self-image. Besides, at that time, there were few students around me wearing glasses. So I chose to wear contact lenses. I felt they would not affect my appearance. On the contrary, they would make me more attractive. And after wearing contact lenses, my entire world was transformed. Trees actually had leaves. People around me showed clear expressions. I was overjoyed at my new-found sight and appearance, and I had more self-confidence.
But when my junior year came along, I began to have trouble with my eyes. Once in a while, the contact lenses would irritate (刺激) my eyes, almost to the point where the pain was unbearable. It would take me thirty minutes just to get the lenses in comfortably every day, which made me so upset. With time going by, the pain only got worse.
In spite of endless visits to the hospital, my doctor found nothing wrong with my eyes. He tried countless mediations to ease my pain, However, none of them worked, and there was nothing left to try.
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Paragraph 1:
He suggested that I wear my glasses full-time. __________________________
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Paragraph 2:
Later in my summer camp, I met a very outgoing girl who also wore glasses.
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I had all the usual child fears. I couldn’t go to sleep unless the light in my bedroom was on. I dreaded that someday when my mother was distracted, Crazy Betty (our local small-town oddball) would grab me in the grocery store. On the hottest summer nights, my feet had to be wrapped tightly in my bed sheets; if one of them hung bare over the side of the bed, who knew what might grab it in its cold, slimy claw.
But all other frights paled in comparison with the Great Fear, the Titanic of my childhood terrors. That fear — and I admit, I feel a tightening in stomach typing the words even today — was that something would happen to Monk-Monk, my beloved toy monkey. That was the deepest fear of my childhood and I learned from it the lesson of cherishing what’s important in my life.
Looking at Monk-Monk today, you wouldn’t see what I see. You’d see a torn, discolored sock monkey, very much past his prime, stuffing leaking from his stumpy tail, holes on his sock-body inexpertly stitched up with thread that doesn’t match. I see my dearest childhood friend, my companion of a thousand nights. When I was only two and very ill, an aunt made him for me and delivered him to the hospital. I bonded with him fiercely and rarely let him out of my sight. When no one else was around, Monk-Monk played endless games with me, soaked up my tears, and listened to my secrets.
And then Uncle Ken came to visit. He lived in Ohio and occasionally he would come and stay with us for a couple of days. I didn’t know Uncle Ken well, and I didn’t like him very much. I had the feeling that he didn’t really like me, either. He clearly thought it was pretty silly that a big first-grader was dragging a sock monkey around, and he teased me by saying he thought he’d take Monk-Monk home to Ohio with him. His words almost scared me to death. I clutched Monk-Monk more tightly.
注意：
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I was at school a few days later when Uncle Ken left.
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Finally Monk-Monk was found jammed behind the sofa.
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What my father wore embarrassed me! I wanted him to dress like a doctor or lawyer, but he always dressed like my father, getting up before dawn every day to make breakfast for my mother and me.
We lived in South Texas, where my father worked as a repairman. He often wore a pair of jeans and a shirt, keeping his pencils, glasses and wrenches (扳手) in his breast pocket. His boots were those with steel toes that made them difficult to pull off his feet, which I sometimes helped him with when he returned from repairing cars — his job that also shamed me.
I blamed the way he dressed. I felt that my classmates laughed at me because they’d seen him mowing lawns (修剪草坪) in cut-off jeans and black boots. My classmates’ families paid men to beautify their lawns, while their fathers travelled in the bay wearing lemon-yellow sweaters and expensive shoes.
He preferred clothes that allowed him the freedom to move under cars. So even when taking part in a school trip with me, he was dressed in his repairman’s suit. On the school bus to the campsite, all students on the bus happily chatted with their parents except me, who lowered the head, avoiding spotting my classmates’ mocking glance (讥笑的眼光) or hearing their jokes, which I thought was about nothing else but what my father wore.
I regretted telling my parents the school trip, and I was very angry why my mother had no spare time while my father happened to have a vacation. But my father failed to read my mind. He was very happy, whistling a tune along the way.
Though my father didn’t sense my bad mood, the school bus seemed as sad as I was. It drove more and more slowly and finally it stopped on the roadside. The driver got out to check the bus but found nothing wrong. Students and parents on the bus began to whisper about what was happening, worried that the delay might spoil the journey.
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2.请按如下格式在答题卷的相应位置作答。
When others were complaining, my father stood up.
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The school bus restarted and everyone cheered.
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