1 . When Liberia was my home, they called it sweet. Sweet was the word I remembered the most during the war. When I was five, my father, two sisters and I fled from Monrovia, the capital city of Liberia, and headed north on foot among panicked masses of criers - a journey that ended in a village where we hid from flying bullets (子弹). Every dawn, my sisters and I joined my father and covered the pages of his small journal with words. My favorite word to write was “sweet,” one that had the power to numb the reality of our 6-month abandonment by peace and civilization.
Eventually, we were considered the lucky ones: part of the wave of refugees who left Liberia in 1990 to settle in America. My mother studied at Columbia University at the time, and we made our new home in her dormitory while awaiting her graduation. My father who left early in the mornings looked for work or news of a possible return to Liberia, only to return home with nothing to give us but new words to write in notebooks. He quickly found that the education he received in Liberia was not good enough for an engineering job in the United States. So he took whatever job he could find to make sure we always had food on the table - and books.
In 2011, I founded a children’s book publishing company: One Moore Book. It provides children’s literature for the children of countries with low literacy (识字) rates and underrepresented cultures by publishing culturally relevant books that have something meaningful to say to them. My hope is to give children the peace I was given through the words of my father, by allowing them to see themselves in literature. I also think it is important to provide books about foreign countries to children in the United States, to increase the overall awareness of the world outside them.
I will never be able to give my father back the twenty years he spent working to educate us, or the home and life in Liberia he lost. I repay his sacrifice (牺牲) by honoring the education he fought for and offering my art to the world, with stories that make the histories of my people come alive, and with words to live by.
1. What was the author’s family’s life like in Liberia?| A．Sweet and peaceful. |
| B．Frightening but positive. |
| C．Comfortable but boring. |
| D．Adventurous and exciting. |
| A．He was crazy about reading. |
| B．He regretted moving to America. |
| C．He worked hard to raise his family. |
| D．He tried to receive a higher education. |
| A．To meet poor children’s growing demands. |
| B．To provide multicultural books for children. |
| C．To support her father’s books about Liberia. |
| D．To help immigrants understand American culture. |
| A．Her pity for her father’s suffering. |
| B．Her thanks to her father’s devotion. |
| C．Her pride in working for her people. |
| D．Her disappointment over the life in Liberia. |
2 . Sit down，close your eyes and relax. Think about your childhood and the memories you created. What was your favorite childhood memory and what was your favorite as a child? Or what your favorite Christmas present or your favorite candy bar when growing up? Answers may come easily for some people but for others，it may take more time to think about.
Mary Jo McCarthy of Pequot Lakes wants to help others document their childhood memories which could be treasured by current families and for generations to come. McCarthy, 64, a short story author and retired columnist (专栏作家) for the Lake Country Echo weekly newspaper, began hosting a writing seminar (研讨班) titled “A Time to Remember”. The closes are limited to 12 people and are conducted in the nursery at Lutheran Church of the Cross in Nisswa and the registration fee is $25.
McCarthy said what led her to start the writing seminars was writing others’ biographies(传记). A retired businessman asked her to write his biography as a ghost writer. She said others from her church in Pequot Lakes had also asked her to write their biographies because they didn’t know how to write them. She thought hosting a class to help people write their own biographies would be more beneficial to them.
McCarthy said people had busy lifestyles those days and didn’t have a chance to sit down and write down their memories that they might forget and never remember. She said writing down the memories would document the person’s life，so other family members，especially future generations would be able to read about them.
1. In paragraph 1 the author raises some questions to________.| A．introduce the topic of the text |
| B．express his/her puzzle about memories |
| C．give some examples for readers about biographies |
| D．provide background details for readers about the retired columnist |
| A．She was strict with her students |
| B．She didn’t take charge of seminars |
| C．She got support from the local government |
| D．She once worked as a columnist in a newspaper |
| A．writing biographies is an easy job |
| B．a biography is part of family history |
| C．McCarthy had her own biographies published |
| D．fewer and fewer people feel interested in biographies |
| A．show how to write biographies |
| B．help people communicate with their families |
| C．call on people to write their own biographies |
| D．introduce McCarthy and her writing seminars |
3 . Raised in a motherless home，my father was extremely tightfisted towards us children. His attitude didn’t soften as I grew into adulthood and went to college. I had to ride the bus whenever I came home. Though the bus stopped about two miles from home，Dad never met me，even in severe weather. If I grumbled，he’d say in his loudest father-voice，“That’s what your legs are for！”
The walk didn’t bother me as much as the fear of walking alone along the highway and country roads. I also felt less than valued that my father didn’t seem concerned about my safety. But that feeling was canceled one spring evening.
It had been a particularly difficult week at college after long hours in labs. I longed for home. When the bus reached the stop，I stepped off and dragged my suitcase to begin the long journey home.
A row of hedge(树篱)edged the driveway that climbed the hill to our house. Once I had turned off the highway to start the last lap of my journey，I always had a sense of relief to see the hedge because it meant that I was almost home. On that particular evening，the hedge had just come into view when I saw something gray moving along the top of the hedge，moving toward the house. Upon closer observation，I realized it was the top of my father’s head. Then I knew，each time I’d come home，he had stood behind the hedge，watching，until he knew I had arrived safely. I swallowed hard against the tears. He did care，after all.
On later visits，that spot of gray became my watchtower. I could hardly wait until I was close enough to watch for its secret movement above the greenery. Upon reaching home，I would find my father sitting innocently in his chair.“ So！My son，it’s you！”he’d say，his face lengthening into pretended surprise.
I replied，“Yes，Dad，it’s me.I’m home.”
1. What does the underlined word“grumbled” in Paragraph 1 probably mean?| A．Agreed willingly. | B．Explained clearly. |
| C．Spoke unhappily. | D．Accepted happily. |
| A．the tiredness after long hours in labs |
| B．the feeling of being less than valued |
| C．the fear of seeing something moving |
| D．the loneliness of riding the bus home |
| A．he was concerned about his son’s safety |
| B．he wanted to help his son build up courage |
| C．he didn’t want to meet his son at the doorway |
| D．he didn’t think his son was old enough to walk alone |
| A．Riding Bus Alone. | B．My College Life. |
| C．Terrible Journey Home. | D．My Father’s Secret. |
4 . Three boys were enjoying themselves in their hometown of Bovina, Mississippi. However, their lives were turned upside down when they discovered the jawbone of a Mastodon (齿乳象).
Brothers Shawn and Caid Sellers and cousin Michael Mahalitc found the prehistoric bone in a piece of earth that was recently plowed (犁、耕). “I thought it was a log,” Caid said. “I tried to pick it up and it was really heavy and I saw teeth on it.” The bone weighed about 50 pounds. They eventually got the bone to their home and fitted it in their tub (浴盆), but it took their collective strength, might and a golf cart, to carry the large Mastodon bone.
“They didn’t expect to find that,” Michael’s mom said. “Now that they have, I believe that they will be more aware of their surroundings and what they’re digging up when they are digging and playing.”
“We’ve gotten a lot of petrified (石化的) wood and Civil War relics from the area and that’s what I thought it was,” the brothers’ mother said. “This is our first set of teeth we’ve found. So we thought it was their imagination. We were quite surprised to see that it was not their imagination.”
They were exploring near the brothers’ home. Lo and behold (真想不到), they saw what they thought resembled a fossil. It was the curator of paleontology (古生物负责人) of the Mississippi Museum of Natural Science, George Phillips, who first identified the bone as a “very mature individual.”
The Mastodon was a mammal who lived during the prehistoric times. They had long tusks and trunks, like elephants. They were clearly different from their modern-day counterparts, as well as woolly mammoths (猛犸).
1. How did they find the jawbone of a Mastodon?| A．With great efforts. | B．By chance. |
| C．Instructed by an expert. | D．Through imagination. |
| A．from people who died in the Civil War | B．the bone from a very mature individual |
| C．like a log or something | D．the prehistoric bone |
| A．helps people to know more about the Civil War |
| B．teaches kids to be more aware of their surroundings |
| C．promotes the research on more prehistoric creatures |
| D．attracts the Mississippi Museum of Natural Science |
| A．Prehistoric Bones Recently Found in Mississippi |
| B．Not Petrified Wood Nor Civil War Relics |
| C．First Identifying Bone as a “Very Mature Individual” |
| D．Unexpectedly Discovering Mastodon Jawbone |
5 . When I was in fourth grade, I worked part-time as a paperboy. Mrs. Stanley was one of my customers. She’d watch me coming down her street, and by the time I’d biked up to her doorstep, there’d be a cold drink waiting. I’d sit and drink while she talked.
Mrs. Stanley talked mostly about her dead husband, “Mr. Stanley and I went shopping this morning.” she’d say. The first time she said that, soda(汽水) went up my nose.
I told my father how Mrs. Stanley talked as if Mr. Stanley were still alive. Dad said she was probably lonely, and that I ought to sit and listen and nod my head and smile, and maybe she’d work it out of her system. So that’s what I did, and it turned out Dad was right. After a while she seemed content to leave her husband over at the cemetery(墓地).
I finally quit delivering newspapers and didn’t see Mrs. Stanley for several years. Then we crossed paths at a church fund-raiser(募捐活动). She was spooning mashed potatoes and looking happy. Four years before, she’d had to offer her paperboy a drink to have someone to talk with. Now she had friends. Her husband was gone, but life went on.
I live in the city now, and my paperboy is a lady named Edna with three kids. She asks me how I’m doing. When I don’t say “fine”, she sticks around to hear my problems. She’s lived in the city most of her life, but she knows about community. Community isn’t so much a place as it is a state of mind. You find it whenever people ask how you’re doing because they care, and not because they’re getting paid to do so. Sometimes it’s good to just smile, nod your head and listen.
1. Why did soda go up the author’s nose one time?| A．He was talking fast. | B．He was shocked. |
| C．He was in a hurry. | D．He was absent-minded. |
| A．He enjoyed the drink. | B．He wanted to be helpful. |
| C．He took the chance to rest. | D．He tried to please his dad. |
| A．recover from her sadness | B．move out of the neighborhood |
| C．turn to her old friends | D．speak out about her past |
| A．Open up to others. | B．Depend on each other. |
| C．Pay for other’s help | D．Care about one another. |
