1 . One of my wonderful memories is about a Christmas gift. Unlike other gifts, it came without wrap (包装).
On September 11th, 1958, Mum gave birth to Richard. After she brought him home from hospital, she put him in my lap, saying, “I promised you a gift, and here it is.” What an honour! I turned four a month earlier and none of my friends had such a baby doll of their own. I played with it day and night. I sang to it. I told it stories. I told it over and over how much I loved it!
One morning, however, I found its bed empty. My doll was gone! I cried for it.Mum wept and told me that the poor little thing had been sent to a hospital. It had a fever. For several days, I heard Mum and Dad whispering such words as “hopeless”, “pitiful”, and “dying”, which sounded ominous.
Christmas was coming. “Don’t expect any presents this year,” Dad said, pointing at the socks I hung in the living room.“If your baby brother lives, that’ll be Christmas enough.” As he spoke, his eyes filled with tears. I’d never seen him cry before.
The phone rang early on Christmas morning. Dad jumped out of bed to answer it. From my bedroom I heard him say, “What? He’s all right?” He hung up and shouted upstairs. “The hospital said we can bring Richard home!”
“Thank God!” I heard Mum cry.
From the upstairs window, I watched my parents rush out to the car. I had never seen them so happy. And I was also full of joy. What a wonderful day! My baby doll would be home. I ran downstairs. My socks still hung there flat. But I knew they were not empty; they were filled with love!
1. What happened to the author on September 11th, 1958?| A．He got a baby brother. |
| B．He got a Christmas gift. |
| C．He became four years old. |
| D．He received a doll. |
| A．Impossible. | B．Boring. |
| C．Difficult. | D．Fearful. |
| A．Excitement. | B．Happiness. |
| C．Sadness. | D．Disappointment. |
| A．A sad Christmas day. |
| B．Life with a lovely baby. |
| C．A special Christmas gift. |
| D．Memories of a happy family. |
When I was a very young man, just beginning to make my way, I was invited to dine at the home of a famous New York philanthropist (慈善家). It was after dinner
I use the phrase “in for” because music means
After a while,
I knew as much about Bach as I knew about nuclear fission. But I did know one of the most famous faces in the world,
3 . When I was four, I lost my sight by falling off a box car and landing on my head. Now I’m thirty-two. I can vaguely remember the brightness of sunshine and what color red is. It’d be wonderful to see again, but a disaster can do strange things to people.
It took me years to discover and strengthen this belief. It had to start with the most trivial things. Once a man gave me an indoor baseball. “I can’t use this,” I was hurt, thinking he was teasing me. “Take it with you,” he insisted, “and roll it around.” The words stuck in my head. By rolling the ball I could feel where it went.
The hardest lesson I had to learn was to believe in myself. Had I not done that, I’d have broken down and become a chair rocker for the rest of my life. And the path to the belief is never smooth.
| A．I’d fail sometimes, but on average, I made progress |
| B．This gave me an idea on something I had thought impossible to achieve |
| C．As people always say, it takes steel and temper to make a difference |
| D．It came into my mind all of a sudden |
| E．It occurred to me the other day that I might not have come to love life as I do now if I hadn’t been blind |
| F．Life asks a continuous series of adjustments to reality |
4 . Last Friday, after doing all the family shopping in the town. I wanted to have a rest before catching the rain. I
When I came back with the coffee, there was someone
Naturally, I was rather uneasy about him, but I didn’t want to have any
The boy gave me a strange look, then
| A．stole | B．bought | C．sold | D．wrote |
| A．went | B．sat | C．seated | D．looked |
| A．sit | B．seat | C．lie | D．laugh |
| A．pushed | B．took | C．put | D．pulled |
| A．jumping | B．playing | C．sitting | D．sleeping |
| A．He | B．It | C．Who | D．What |
| A．cut | B．washed | C．covered | D．colored |
| A．coffee | B．trouble | C．chocolate | D．matter |
| A．carelessness | B．anger | C．surprise | D．happiness |
| A．first | B．second | C．very | D．last |
| A．stood | B．took | C．cried | D．looked |
| A．strange | B．wrong | C．OK | D．funny |
| A．and | B．but | C．so | D．while |
| A．spelt | B．corrected | C．made | D．found |
| A．finish | B．leave | C．jump | D．shop |
5 . To Be a Deaf DJ
I was born in England with perfect hearing. In 1990, when I was five, my family moved to the United States. I started getting ear infections every three months or so. We didn’t have health insurance at the time, and when I got a third infection, my parents couldn’t afford the treatment. I went deaf in my right ear and was left with 50 percent hearing in my left. Over time, my remaining hearing dropped to 20 percent, where it is today. My doctors predicted that I would be thoroughly deaf by now, and I think I’m doing pretty well.
There was always music on in my house in my childhood. I loved listening to Metallica, Led Zeppelin, Michael Jackson. My dad was a DJ, so he played disco, folk, rock, and music from other countries. For my 18th birthday, my dad asked me to deejay at the restaurant. After doing that for a few weeks, I was interested in it. I desired to learn more. I e-mailed DJ Shiftee, a distinguished New York City DJ, “I know you like a challenge. How about teaching a deaf person to deejay?” He wrote back the next day, “Challenge accepted.” He tutored me twice a week for two years, helping me develop correct technique. I practiced four hours a day.
Now when I’m performing, muscle memory takes over. When I started, I wouldn’t tell the club managers that I was deaf. I would just show up, introduce myself, and start playing music. At the end of the night, someone would say, “Oh, here’s the check.” And I’d say, “What? Oh, I can’t hear.” They were always so astonished. Sometimes I would bring doctor’s notes because they wouldn’t believe me. It was reassurance that they were giving me opportunities to perform because I was brilliant, not out of sympathy. Eventually people started calling me “that deaf DJ,” and the name stuck.
What fascinates me about deejaying is the creativity. I use software that turns the music into lines of color on a computer screen. I’m visually hearing the music. The next time you go dancing, cover your ears, and you’ll start seeing that you’re able to hear the music in a different way. Music is not all about hearing. I pay all sorts of get-togethers now, from college parties to corporate events. I also go to elementary schools for the deaf and talk to the students about motivation and believing in themselves. I tell the parents, “My advice to you is let your kids chase their dreams. I’m a deaf DJ, so why not?”
1. Which of the following might result in the author’s hearing loss?| A．Monthly ear infection. | B．Moving to the U. S. |
| C．Family financial hardship. | D．The doctors’ prediction. |
| A．He taught him correct skills. | B．He discovered his talent for DJ. |
| C．He played at the restaurant for him. | D．He cultivated his taste for foreign music. |
| A．the author was in low spirits | B．the author impressed people deeply |
| C．the audience felt disappointed by the player | D．the audience looked down upon the player |
| A．working as a DJ involves creating | B．music helps him to see the world virtually |
| C．he motivates the kids to realize their dream | D．he desires to challenge something impossible |
6 . An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by.
The employer was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to inferior workmanship and used cheap materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.
When the carpenter finished his work, the employer came to inspect the house and handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house," he said, "my gift to you."
What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.
So it is with us. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized, we would have done it differently.
Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived with dignity.
1. Why did the carpenter decide to retire according to the passage?| A．He didn't get his paycheck from his boss on time. |
| B．The employer was not satisfied with his work. |
| C．He planned to start his own house building business. |
| D．He wanted to spend more time with his family. |
| A．better than his expectation | B．far from satisfactory |
| C．a gift to the employer | D．built with heart and soul |
| A．grateful | B．disappointed |
| C．cheerful | D．regretful |
| A．Don't cry over spilt milk. | B．Opportunity only knocks once. |
| C．Life is what you make it. | D．Honesty is the best policy. |
7 . When I was growing up in America, I was ashamed of my mother's Chinese English. Because of her English, she was often treated unfairly. People in department stores, at banks, and at restaurants did not take her seriously, did not give her good service, pretended not to understand her, or even acted as if they did not hear her.
My mother has long realized the limitations of her English as well. When I was fifteen, she used to have me call people on the phone to pretend I was she. I was forced to ask for information or even to shout at people who had been rude to her. One time I had to call her stockbroker (股票经纪人). I said in an adolescent voice that was not very convincing (令人相信的)，“This is Mrs. Tan. "
And my mother was standing beside me, whispering loudly, “Why he don't send me check already two week late. "
And then, in perfect English I said: "I'm getting rather concerned. You agreed to send the check two weeks ago, but it hasn't arrived. "
Then she talked more loudly. "What he want? I come to New York tell him front of his boss. "And so I turned to the stockbroker again, "I can't tolerate (容忍) any more excuse. If I don't receive the check immediately, I am going to have to speak to your manager when I am in New York next week. "
The next week we ended up in New York. While I was sitting there red-faced, my mother, the real, was shouting to his boss in her broken English.
When I was a teenager, my mother’ s broken English embarrassed me. But now, I see it differently. To me, my mother’s English is perfectly clear, perfectly natural. It is my mother tongue. Her language, as I hear it, is vivid, direct, and full of observation and wisdom. It was the language that helped shape the way I saw things, expressed ideas, and made sense of the world.
1. Why was the author's mother poorly served?| A．She was unable to speak good English. | B．She was often misunderstood. |
| C．She was not clearly heard. | D．She was not very polite. |
| A．good at pretending | B．rude to the stockbroker |
| C．ready to help her mother | D．unwilling to phone for her mother |
| A．they forgave the stockbroker · | B．they failed to get the check |
| C．they went to New York immediately | D．they spoke to their boss at once |
| A．It confuses her. | B．It embarrasses her |
| C．It helps her understand the world. | D．It helps her tolerate rude people. |
8 . Last week my youngest son and I visited my father at his new home in Tucson, Arizona. He moved there a few years ago, and I was eager to see his new place and meet his friends.
My earliest memories of my father are a tall, handsome, successful man devoted to his work and his family, but uncomfortable with his children. As a child I loved him. He seemed unhappy with me unless got straight A’s and unhappy with my boyfriends if their fathers were not as “successful” as he was. Whenever I went out with him on weekends, I used to struggle to think up things to say, feeling on guard.
On the first day of my visit, we went out with one of my father’s friends for lunch at an outdoor cafe. We talked along that afternoon, did some shopping, ate on the street table, and laughed over my son’s funny facial expressions Gone was my father’s critical (挑别的) air and strict rules. Who was this person I knew as my father, who seemed so friendly and interesting to be around? What had held him back before?
The next day dad pulled out his childhood pictures and told me quite a few stories about his own childhood. Although our times together became easier over the years, I never felt closer to him at that moment. After so many years, I’m at last seeing another side of my father. And in so doing, I’m delighted with my new friend. My dad, in his new home in Arizona, is back to me from where he was.
1. Why did the author feel bitter about her father as a young adult?| A．He did not love his children. |
| B．He expected too much of her. |
| C．He was too proud of himself. |
| D．He was silent most of the time. |
| A．nervous | B．sorry |
| C．tired | D．safe |
| A．More critical. | B．More talkative. |
| C．Gentle and friendly. | D．Strict and hard-working. |
| A．the cafe owner | B．the author’s son |
| C．the author’s father | D．the friend of the author’s father |
9 . Cecilia Chiang, the chef and restaurant owner, was greatly known for introducing regional Chinese dishes to the United States. She helped change the way Americans think about Chinese cooking.
Chiang was born into a wealthy Shanghai family with two full-time chefs—one from the north and one from the south. In 1949 her family settled in Tokyo, opening a restaurant called the Forbidden City. But it was a 1960 trip in San Francisco that set Chiang on her dramatic journey to cooking fame. She was both shocked and amused by the food most Americans considered to be Chinese. “They think chop suey(杂烩) is the only thing we have in China,” she said with a laugh. “ What a shame.”
So Chiang was determined to open a high-end Chinese restaurant that served authentic Chinese food. “Everybody said, ‘You cannot make it. You cannot speak English. You don’t know anything.’” she recalled. In 1961 then, Chiang opened the Mandarin.
The restaurant wasn’t immediately successful. About a year after opening, the Mandarin received a mention from the San Francisco Chronicle (旧金山纪事报). The effect of the powerful writer’s positive comment was immediate. Tourists, dignitaries and celebrities(达官显贵)—from Mae West to John Lennon—flooded into the Mandarin for then -unfamiliar food like tea smoked duck twice cooked pork.
Though the Mandarin was closed years later, Cecilia Chiang’s DNA can be found all over American Chinese food. Her son founded the chain P.F. Chang’s and the son of one of her chefs founded Panda Express.
In early 2017, Chiang shared how she lived to be so old: “I always think about the better side, the good side of everything. I never think about, Oh, I’m going to fail. Oh, I cannot do this. Oh, I feel sorry for myself.” Instead, Chiang wrote books, starred in a PBS documentary series and won the most famous award in American cooking when she was 93 years old.
1. Cecilia Chiang opened the Mandarin in order to ________.| A．remember her 1960 trip in San Francisco |
| B．Serve real Chinese food to the Americans |
| C．Show her shock and amusement towards food |
| D．Continue her family tradition of running restaurants |
| A．It is in the charge of Chiang’s son now. |
| B．It wasn’t successful until two years later. |
| C．It turned out pretty popular among Americans. |
| D．It changed the way Americans think about China. |
| A．Talented and active. |
| B．Ambitious and selfless. |
| C．Optimistic and creative. |
| D．Positive and determined. |
10 . We went to the T. B. Blackstone Library, not far from Lake Michigan. You could easily miss the building if you didn’t know what you were looking for. But once you were inside, you could never mistake it for anything else. We passed through two sets of heavy brass doors to the lobby of the library. And if we turned right then, we could see an alcove with tables; this led, in turn, to a big reading room with a gigantic and ancient globe that sat in front of the largest windows. I liked to look at Africa, with the coded colours of the different countries like the Belgian Congo and Rhodesia, and try to remember which countries were fighting to be free just as we were struggling for civil rights. I had heard Daddy talking about the struggle, arguing with the television as someone discussed it on a news show.
One Saturday, as I wandered through the young adult section, I saw a title: Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. I could tell from looking at the shelf that she'd written a lot of books, but I didn't know anything about her. I had learned from experience that titles weren't everything. A book that sounded great on the shelf could be dull once you got it home, and every bad book I brought home meant one less book to read until we went back in two weeks. So I sat in a chair near the shelves to skim the first paragraphs:
"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.
"It’s so dreadful to be poor!" sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.
"I don't think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all," added little Amy, with an injured sniff.
"We’ve got Father and Mother and each other," said Beth contentedly from her corner.
It was a good thing I’d already decided on some other books to take home, because I didn’t look through the rest of the section that day. I read and read and read Little Women until it was time to walk home, and, except for a few essential interruptions like sleeping and eating, I would not put it down until the end. Even the freedom to watch weekend television held no appeal for me in the wake of Alcott’s story. It was about girls, for one thing, girls who could almost be like me, especially Jo. It seemed to me a shame that she wasn't Black; then our similarity would be complete. She loved to read, she loved to make up plays, she hated acting ladylike, and she had a dreadful temper. I had found a kindred spirit.
1. What can be learned about the author’s father according to Paragraph One?| A．He was uncomfortable discussing politics with his children. |
| B．He had strong feelings about the Civil Rights movement. |
| C．He did not approve of most news covered on TV. |
| D．He generally had a pessimistic world view. |
| A．books seem duller when read in libraries than when read at home |
| B．interesting books are often very dull in their first few paragraphs |
| C．novels are usually more interesting than nonfiction works |
| D．book titles can sometimes be misleading |
| A．convey the impact of an unexpected discovery | B．describe a young reader’s sense of history |
| C．illustrate the characters in the book | D．explain a child’s misunderstanding |
| A．challenge an interpretation | B．highlight some differences |
| C．stress a comparison | D．develop a disapproving opinion |
