六级英语文章阅读

六级英语文章阅读

你好！智课网（Smartstudy）为您解答解题技巧段落信息匹配题的一般解题步骤是：读题干并确定关键词(中心词)——去原文中定位关键词——分析定位句——分析题干——确定答案。具体的解题技巧如下：1、用“打包”方法对付乱序：把整组题全部一次性吃透，然后去原文从头到尾定位。否则，考生如果按顺序逐题解答，时间会严重不足，最好是文章一遍看下来，能找到所有的信息。此外，考生应该注意定位原文的过程中，一定要脑、眼和手并用：眼是肯定要用的，不用脑会导致忽视同义转换，不用手(笔)会使我们处于走马观花的状态，然后会怀疑自己是不是漏掉了信息而不停地看。2、“吃透”题干，准确判断关键词(中心词)至关重要。如果没吃透题干，就无法准确判断关键词或中心词，就可能对原文中的重要信息没感觉。一般来说，题干关键词或中心词为实词以及一些数字、专有名词等。3、在解题的先后顺序上，采用先易后难的策略。采用由易到难的解题策略，可以提升考生的解题信心。对于那些答题线索较少的题干细节信息，考生可留在最后再解答。在解答这类较难的题目时，考生可快速阅读原文中仍未选过的段落的主题句(通常为第一句、第二句或最后一句)，之后根据段落大意与题干中的细节信息进行匹配。难点与答题策略六级信息匹配题的难点主要在于：①文章较长;②部分段落有干扰性(两个段落提到了相同的主题)。③题干中不涉及专有名词或数字(即使有数字也与原文不一致)等定位词，传统的定位法不再适用。针对这些新特点，考生需要把握以下解题策略。1、做题步骤：50%-50%法。文章内容多，信息量大，题文不同序，对考生的短时记忆是一大考验，考生可以采用此方法进行应对，具体为：第一步先读文章前1-4段，获取文章大意，并提炼所读段落的核心意思(英文关键词)。第二步浏览5个题干(不一定是前5题)，划出每个题干句子的核心词(注意可能并非是定位词)，初步判断与所读段落是否匹配。第三步划出剩下未匹配题干的核心词，并与剩下的文章交替阅读，直至做完。2、语句核心词提炼的方法。语句核心词提炼是英文阅读的必备技能之一，是提高阅读效率的必经途径。要想获得该能力，需要考生在明了基本原理的基础上，配以大量练习方可，但这一能力确实值得考生花大力气训练。简单说来，这一方法有些类似于缩句练习。比如样卷的第53题，在做题时可以在句子上快速划出其核心主干：Comparedwithyoungerones,oldersocietiestendtobelessinnovativeandtakefewerrisks.因此可以简化为oldersocieties…lessinnovative，方便在做题时查找和进行短时记忆。3、干扰段落排除的方法有时会出现连续两个或两个以上段落讲述同一问题的现象，这时就需要考生在提炼语句核心词的时候，要准确和全面。比如样卷的第55题：Immigrationasameanstoboosttheshrinkinglaborforcemaymeetwithresistanceinsomerichcountries.该句的核心词除了immigration以外，还包括resistance，如果只划出核心词immigration，则会误选[G]段，原文的[G]段和[H]段均提到了immigration的问题。一般来说，这种题型的干扰段落多为临近的上下段，因此考生可在这一范围内进行区分。4、关键词同义转换的方法同义转换的方法包括：改变词性、意思相同或相近的词或词组、反义词或词组、句式的变换、语态的转换等。例如样卷的第50题：Countriesthathaveashortageofyoungadultswillbelesswillingtosendthemtowar.显然，语句核心词sendtowar是[M]段中militaryservice的同义转述;lesswilling是reluctant的同义转述。这一方法考生相对较为熟悉。在此不多赘述。智课网整理希望能够帮助到你！

三篇，一篇阅读填空，两篇传统阅读。...大学英语六级阅读理解第三部分是仔细阅读，又称为深度阅读，占据20%的分值，有两篇450~500字的文章，每篇文章后面有5道题，考查考生对文章具体信息和主旨大意的能力以及根据所读材料进行推理判断的能力。该部分常考题型有四个：事实细节题、推理判断题、主旨大意题和观点态度题。

3个。做阅读题目之前，一定要认真审题，弄明白这些题目的题型，说明白一些就是知道出这些题的根本目的是考察我们哪方面的能力，六级阅读在本质上是对文章细节考察。大家对于阅读题的普遍认识是有五种题型，细节题、主旨题、推断题、态度题和语义题。认真找出命题点，它们常常和语言特征相结合。因为在每个阅读中基本上包含450词的信息量，但不是每一句都是出题人热衷的出题热点。因此我们在阅读文章的过程中也要做到详略得当。出题人尤其喜欢针对一些特定的语言特征来设置题目，像特殊的标点符号，转折关系，比较关系，因果关系，引用，举例等。找到这些关键词，思路就清晰了很多吧。

六级英语阅读理解提分技巧：

扩充词汇量：1.虽然六级词可以在文章中能够利用技巧猜出，但强烈建议考生仍不能忽视平时词汇量的积累。因为非要把平时可以搞定的单词当成生词去考场浪费时间精力来猜测处理是非常得不偿失的办法。当然，单纯背单词书效果比较差，尤其对那些恒心、毅力不强的考生。

2.所以这里推荐一个适合提高阅读部分单词识记数量的小方法：考生可以每天定量反复扫读六级大纲内的词汇，同时进行六级阅读真题的训练或者找一些与六级阅读文章难度相当的文章进行单词回顾演练。

3.这样经过两至三个月的时间，至少可以保证考生对大部分的高频单词进行了多次的“会面”，混了眼熟，也就达到了考纲要求的对于含义理解的层次要求了，当然，这需要一个不断循环往复的扫读-阅读过程。

六级英文文章阅读

英语六级阅读理解的技巧和方法是扩充词汇量，熟悉六级阅读文章常用的语法现象、推理思路和不同考试题目的理解。

1、阅读题目以预测文章内容。应该先读题目，后看文章，同时根据题目设想一下文章可能涉及的内容，以及所使用的词汇量的类型与范围，乃至题目涉及到的'关键性的词汇。

2、重视小标题在文中的纲要性作用。在篇幅相对比较短的阅读理解考试当中可以直接用题目中的关键词汇定位，但是面对长篇累牍的高效阅读，考生首先应当留意文章中是否有小标题。如果有，一定要先读小标题，因为小标题的作用如同字典前面的目录，可以帮助考生宏观的把握文章框架，迅速寻找到有效信息的范围。

3、注意标点符号的使用。可以运用标点符号（破折号、小括号、冒号）了解抽象的和不认识的词汇或句子的含义。

4、注意逻辑关系的运用。逻辑关系分布在文章的句子内部、句与句之间、以及段落之间。

5、特殊信息点在高效阅读中的运用。所谓“特殊信息点”是指那些很容易在文章中识别的词汇，诸如，时间，数字，人名，地名，大写字母，斜体，黑体等形式的语言点。

大学英语六级考试阅读理解考试有三大难点：生词多,句子长,含义深.很多同学看到生词长句就发憷,就别说理解文章深层的内涵了.如果一拿到阅读理解,就被映入眼帘的生词长句吓倒,再也没有信心和勇气继续下去,其实是自己放弃了成功的希望.六级阅读虽然生词长句多,但其实都是在简单句的基础上逐步堆积难词和词组构成的.因此在看到这些难句或生词时,要充满自信的找出那些熟悉的单词,了解句子的整体含义,这是最主要的,而不是去搜索记忆,发掘每一个生词的含义.阅读理解同样需要很多的练习,才能形成强烈的语感,文感和手感,即语言感觉,文体感觉和解题感觉.所以那种所谓的技巧万能论等都是片面的,没有基本的练习,没有对过去历年的真题的研读剖析,再多的方法和技巧都是枉然.

多做阅读题，每天一篇，效果是很好的

别人给你推荐的英语辅导也并不能说都适合你学习~你要根据自己的实际情况参考比较 ABC天卞口语得还是可以的 不晓得.好.适合你不，外教口语很纯正，你可以去那了解一下 或许对您有很大的帮助呢~~鄙视下复制粘贴的。说下我的。级，应该对兰州有帮助。级最牛逼的就是单词。真的牛逼吗？？也不过000+单词而已。。当年我买了本GRE红宝书每天背1个半小时，背了1年后看六级，考研的文章像切菜一样。。当然背单词方法不能乱来，要滚雪球复习，开始每天背10个单词，复习10个单词，过了一遍后倒着再过一遍，然后开始高强度复习。。我背到几个月后是每天复习100+单词，一周过一遍红宝书。有种方法叫提前适应，就是把高难度的先啃下来再去看低难度的就会很简单。干红宝书的同时平时多去google新闻网看新闻，那些东西都是美国原产的，比六级单词量不知多了多少倍，纯正了不知多少倍，把那些看熟了还怕看不来六级么？？听力的话看原版电影或者听VOA,不过有一点瞎听屁用都没有，举个例子：你天天听到鸟叫，但听了十几年了你能听懂鸟在说什么吗？？意思就是说听听力要看着原文听，听熟后在抛开原文靠大脑反应才能提高，这些都是老掉牙但是又实用的方法就不多说了。最后补充点，所谓的什么应试技巧全都是吹牛逼，多听多读才是王道，我考六级，考研英语都是不练习真题直接裸考，分数照样暴高。。不过这个不适用GRE,因为GRE太变态，所以多做真题来找感觉是必要的，六级就不需要啦。。能把我上面说的都做到包六级优秀。在补充一个，看google新闻时如果真的很多单词不懂的话就去下载一个“google”工具条，好处就是鼠标指哪个词就显示那个词的意思，很好用，直接省去翻字典的时间。

六年级语文阅读论文

复习的过程是查漏补缺的过程，是帮助学生总结提高的过程，运用语言的过程；复习要着眼于全面提高学生的语文素养。复习强化所学知识必不可少的手段，是学习过程中至关重要的环节。复习不单是机械的重复，而更应包含着对知识的理解和运用。指导平常学习好一些的同学应该利用复习之机，在知识的迁移、在能力的训练上下功夫，做到触类旁通、举一反三，使自己在学习上再上新层次，进入更高的学习境界。而对待学习一般的同学更应该加大复习力度，巩固基本知识掌握基本技能。 学生在课本上学到的知识，常常是零散的，要想把它变成学生自己的知识，就必须进行一番加工整理，理清知识要点,在学生头脑中构建起一个知识网络,从而形成一个完整的知识体系，这样学过的知识才记得牢、用得活。同时复习时，应加大对基本知识、基本技能的复习力度，做到温故而知新。 充分利用现有的教材，面向全体学生，突出复习重点，采取切实有效的措施，帮助学生进行系统整理，使学习程度不同的学生的语文能力都得到提高；在人人过关的基础上体现新课程三维目标，注重积累，培养良好的语文学习习惯，提升学生语文素养.力求扎实基础知识，加强训练，落实课本知识的复习。进一步扎实基础知识与课本知识，加强课外阅读训练。优等生：拓展知识面，加深难度，培养他们的综合能力。 互帮互学，优化组合课内，要让优等生与后进生搭配，以优促差；课外主要采用优优组合，相互竞争激励。注意学生的信息反馈，以便及时矫正或查漏补缺。通过创设和谐、平等的师生关系，让学生能保持积极的心理状态。特别对差生不仅不能歧视他们，而是要加倍关心他们，关注每一点进步并予以支持鼓励，使她们看到身边老师和同学的期望，增强他们的自信心。发挥学生之间的团结协作精神；让同一层次的学生自由配对，发挥学生之间的竞争、激励机制。 注意学生的信息反馈，让学生质疑问题，摸清学生掌握知识的情况，以便及时矫正或查漏补缺。积极的情绪是复习质量的保证。复习期间合理安排一些调节，通过创设和谐、平等的师生关系，让学生能保持积极的心理状态。让优生进行一些新题型的训练，鼓励他们主动帮助学习有困难的同学。调动学中等生和学困生生的学习积极性，让他们增强学习的信心。面批面改，及时改正错漏。争取家长的配合，形成教育合力。 适时做好学生的思想教育工作，使他们端正复习态度，克服畏难情绪，树立必胜信心。整个复习阶段，对学生要多表扬少批评，多鼓励少指责，使学生变“要我复”为“我要复”。 语文的外延等于生活的外延，生活中时时、处处可以学语文，用语文，复习阶段也是一样，不能把复习内容局限在书本里、课堂上，而要把课本知识与学生的生活实际联系起来，拓宽知识视野，发展思维能力。一方面，要引导学生关注生活：如鼓励学生多读读课外书多写写观察日记，多关注人生百态，多说说生活见闻，多议议社会热点、焦点；另一方面，注重拓展延伸，要指导并鼓励学生运用课内学到知识和方法解决生活中的实际问题。帮学生调整好虚心的心态，制定合理的复习计划，合理安排好复习时间，运用恰当的复习方法，语文复习课要上得开放一点，复习期间，提倡同学间的互相讨论、互相出题，互相解疑，以达到共同提高的目的。放手让学生自己练，放手让学生自己悟，放手让学生自己评。因为“复习”就是再学习，“再学习”就是要依靠学生在原有的基础上，提高知识的综合性，强调实践运用，教师真正起到一个设计者、组织者、指导者和检测者的作用。

小学就不学好.看你是没什么系了、

初学这些议论文的操作方法，可以从模仿开始。以一篇文章为例。最典型的是吴晗的《谈骨气》 ：1．引论部分：开篇提出论点：我们中国人是有骨气的。接着，用孟子的话解释论点“富贵不能淫，贫贱不能移，威武不能屈。”2．本论部分：用三个事例分别证明论点：文天祥的富贵不能淫；穷人不食嗟来之食的贫贱不能移，闻一多的威武不能屈。3．结论部分：解释当今无产阶级的骨气并发出号召。三个部分之间都有过渡：在引论和本论之间有“我们祖先的许多有骨气的动人事迹，还有他积极的教育意义。”引出下面三个事例的叙述。本论和结论之间有“孟子的这些话，虽然在两千多年以前说的，但直到现在，还有他积极的意义。”进行过渡。

阅读文章英语

英语阅读精选文章

学习英语需要每天积累，除了积累单词之外，还有就是文章了。以下是网我整理的关于英语阅读的精选文章，供同学们阅读。

篇一：读书之乐

Reading is a pleasure of the mind, which means that it is a little like a sport: your eagerness and knowledge and quickness make you a good reader. Reading is fun, not because the writer is telling you something, but because it makes your mind work. Your own imagination works along with the author's or even goes beyond his. Your experience, compared with his, brings you to the same or different conclusions, and your ideas develop as you understand his.

Every book stands by itself, like a one-family house, but books in a library are like houses in a city. Although they are separate, together they all add up to something; they are connected with each other and with other cities. The same ideas, or related ones, turn up in different places; the human problems that repeat themselves in life repeat themselves in literature, but with different solutions according to different writings at different times.

Reading can only be fun if you expect it to be. If you concentrate on books somebody tells you "ought" to read, you probably won't have fun. But if you put down a book you don't like and try another till you find one that means something to you, and then relax with it, you will almost certainly have a good time--and if you become as a result of reading, better, wiser, kinder, or more gentle, you won't have suffered during the process.

读书是愉悦心智之事。在这一点上它与运动颇为相似:一个优秀的读者必须要有热情、有知识、有速度。读书之乐并非在于作者要告诉你什么，而在于它促使你思考。你跟随作者一起想像，有时你的想象甚至会超越作者的。把自己的体验与作者的相互比较，你会得出相同或者不同的结论。在理解作者想法的同时，也形成了自己的观点。

每一本书都自成体系，就像一家一户的住宅，而图书馆里的藏书好比城市里千家万户的居所。尽管它们都相互独立，但只有相互结合才有意义。家家户户彼此相连，城市与城市彼此相依。相同或相似的思想在不同地方涌现。人类生活中反复的问题也在文学中不断重现，但因时代与作品的`差异，答案也各不相同。

如果你希望的话，读书也能充满乐趣。倘若你只读那些别人告诉你该读之书，那么你不太可能有乐趣可言。但如果你放下你不喜欢的书，试着阅读另外一本，直到你找到自己中意的，然后轻轻松松的读下去，差不多一定会乐在其中。而且，当你通过阅读变得更加优秀，更加善良，更加文雅时，阅读便不再是一种折磨。

篇二：任教印象

The main impression growing out of twelve years on the faculty of a medical school is that the health problem in the . today, even more than AIDS or cancer, is that Americans don’t know how to think about health and illness. Our reactions are formed on the terror level.

We fear the worst, expect the worst, thus invite the worst. The result is that we are becoming a nation of weaklings and hypochondriacs, a self-medicating society incapable of

distinguishing between casual, everyday symptoms and those that require professional attention.

Early in life, too, we become seized with the bizarre idea that we are constantly assaulted by invisible monsters called germs, and that we have to be on constant alert to protect ourselves against their fury. Equal emphasis, however, is not given to the presiding fact that our bodies are superbly equipped to deal with the little demons and the best way of forestalling an attack is to maintain a sensible life-style.

在医学院任教十二年来，我获得的主要印象是，当今美国头号健康问题——一个比艾滋病或癌症更为严重的问题——是美国人不知道如何去认识健康与疾病。我们的反应是惊恐万状。我们怕最坏的事，想着最坏的事，而恰恰就召来了最坏的事。结果 ，我们变成了一个孱弱不堪，总疑心自己有病的民族，一个分不清哪些是日常偶发症状，哪些是需要治疗的症状，而自己擅自用药的社会。

我们年轻的时候还染上了一种奇怪的观念：一种肉眼看不见的叫做细菌的小妖怪在不断向我们进攻，我们必须长备不懈地保护自己不受其伤害。然而，对另一个重要事实，我们却未能给予同样的重视，那就是，我们的身体装备精良，足以对付这些小妖怪，而且防止妖怪进攻的最佳途径就是保持合理的生活方式。

英语阅读：The Language of Music

A painter hangs his or her finished pictures on a wall, and everyone can see it. A composer writes a work, but no one can hear it until it is performed. Professional singers and players have great responsibilities, for the composer is utterly dependent on them. A student of music needs as long and as arduous a training to become a performer as a medical student needs to become a doctor. Most training is concerned with technique, for musicians have to have the muscular proficiency of an athlete or a ballet dancer. Singers practice breathing every day, as their vocal chords would be inadequate without controlled muscular support. String players practice moving the fingers of the left hand up and down, while drawing the bow to and fro with the right arm-two entirely different movements.

Singers and instruments have to be able to get every note perfectly in tune. Pianists are spared this particular anxiety, for the notes are already there, waiting for them, and it is the piano tuner’s responsibility to tune the instrument for them. But they have their own difficulties; the hammers that hit the string have to be coaxed not to sound like percussion, and each overlapping tone has to sound clear.

This problem of getting clear texture is one that confronts student conductors: they have to learn to know every note of the music and how it should sound, and they have to aim at controlling these sound with fanatical but selfless authority.

Technique is of no use unless it is combined with musical knowledge and understanding. Great artists are those who are so thoroughly at home in the language of music that they can enjoy performing works written in any century.

英语阅读：An Empty Box

Once upon a time, a man punished his 5-year-old daughter for using up the family's only roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became even more upset when on Christmas Eve, he saw that the child had pasted the gold paper so as to decorate a shoebox to put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the next morning the little girl, filled with excitement, brought the gift box to her father and said, "This is for you, Daddy!"

As he opened the box, the father was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction.

But when he opened it, he found it was empty and again his anger flared. "Don't you know, young lady, " he said harshly, "when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside the package!"

The little girl looked up at him with tears rolling from her eyes and said: "Daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into it until it was all full."

The father was crushed. He fell on his knees and put his arms around his precious little girl. He begged her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger.

An accident took the life of the child only a short time later. It is told that the father kept that little gold box by his bed for all the years of his life. Whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems he would open the box, take out an imaginary kiss, and remember the love of this beautiful child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us as human beings have been given an invisible golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and God.

There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.

英语阅读：Happiness Equates with Fun?

I live in Hollywood. You may think people in such a glamorous, fun-filled place are happier than others. If so, you have some mistaken ideas about the nature of happiness.

Many intelligent people still equate happiness with fun. The truth is that fun and happiness have little or nothing in common. Fun is what we experience during an act. Happiness is what we experience after an act. It is a deeper, more abiding emotion.

Going to an amusement park or ball game, watching a movie or television, are fun activities that help us relax, temporarily forget our problems and maybe even laugh. But they do not bring happiness, because their positive effects end when the fun ends.

I have often thought that if Hollywood stars have a role to play, it is to teach us that happiness has nothing to do with fun. These rich, beautiful inpiduals have constant access to glamorous parties, fancy cars, expensive homes, everything that spells "happiness".

But in memoir after memoir, celebrities reveal the unhappiness hidden beneath all their fun: depression, alcoholism, drug addiction, broken marriages, troubled children, profound loneliness.

The way people cling to the belief that a fun-filled, pain-free life equates happiness actually diminishes their chances of ever attaining real happiness. If fun and pleasure are equated with happiness, then pain must be equated with unhappiness. But, in fact, the opposite is true: More times than not, things that lead to happiness involve some pain.

As a result, many people avoid the very endeavors that are the source of true happiness. They fear the pain inevitably brought by such things as marriage, raising children, professional achievement, religious commitment, civic or charitable work, and self-improvement.

英语阅读：Today is a Gift

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room‘s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn‘t hear the band - he could see it in his mind‘s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly and painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

英语阅读：Is Packing Important to You?

A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.

As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautiful wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold.

Angrily, he raised his voice to his father and said, "With all your money you give me a Bible?" He then stormed out of the house, leaving the Bible.

Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and a wonderful family, but realizing his father was very old, he thought perhaps he should go to see him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make the arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care of things.

When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago.

With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. As he was reading, a car key dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words… "PAID IN FULL".

How many times do we miss blessings because they are not packaged as we expected? I trust you enjoyed this. Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. Sometimes we don't realize the good fortune we have or we could have because we expect "the packaging" to be different. What may appear as bad fortune may in fact be the door that is just waiting to be opened.

英语阅读：The Baby Eagle

Once upon a time there was a baby eagle living in a nest perched on a cliff overlooking a beautiful valley with waterfalls and streams, trees and lots of little animals, scurrying about enjoying their lives.

The baby eagle liked the nest. It was the only world he had ever known. It was warm and comfortable, had a great view, and even better, he had all the food and love and attention that a great mother eagle could provide. Many times each day the mother would swoop down from the sky and land in the nest and feed the baby eagle delicious morsels of food. She was like a god to him, he had no idea where she came from or how she worked her magic.

The baby eagle was hungry all the time, but the mother eagle would always come just in time with the food and love and attention he craved. The baby eagle grew strong. His vision grew very sharp. He felt good all the time.

Until one day, the mother stopped coming to the nest.

The baby eagle was hungry. "I'm sure to die," said the baby eagle, all the time.

"Very soon, death is coming," he cried, with tears streaming down his face. Over and over. But there was no one there to hear him.

Then one day the mother eagle appeared at the top of the mountain cliff, with a big bowl of delicious food and she looked down at her baby. The baby looked up at the mother and cried "Why did you abandon me? I'm going to die any minute. How could you do this to me?"

The mother said, "Here is some very tasty and nourishing food, all you have to do is come get it."

"Come get it!" said the baby, with much anger. "How?"

The mother flew away.

The baby cried and cried and cried.

A few days later, "I'm going to end it all," he said. "I give up. It is time for me to die."

He didn't know his mother was nearby. She swooped down to the nest with his last meal.

"Eat this, it's your last meal," she said.

The baby cried, but he ate and whined and whined about what a bad mother she was.

"You're a terrible mother," he said. Then she pushed him out of the nest.

He fell.

Head first.

Picked up speed.

Faster and faster.

He screamed. "I'm dying I'm dying," he cried. He picked up more speed.

He looked up at his mother. "How could you do this to me?"

He looked down.

The ground rushed closer, faster and faster. He could visualize his own death so clearly, coming so soon, and cried and whined and complained. "This isn't fair!" he screamed.

Something strange happens.

The air caught behind his arms and they snapped away from his body, with a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced. He looked down and saw the sky. He wasn't moving towards the ground anymore, his eyes were pointed up at the sun.

"Huh?" he said. "What is going on here!"

"You're flying," his mother said.

"This is fun!" laughed the baby eagle, as he soared and ped and swooped.

"Yes it is!" said the mother.

英语文章阅读

英语 散文 的翻译,最难的不是语言的翻译,而是如何传递原文所给人的感觉和神韵。下面是我带来的关于英语优秀 文章 阅读，欢迎阅读!关于英语优秀文章阅读篇一 Alienation and the Internet (网络，你“离间”了人群?) The Internet provides an amazing forum for the free exchange of ideas. Given the relatively few restrictions governing access and usage，it is the communications modal equivalent of international It is my personal belief that the human potential can only be realized by the globalization of ideas. I developed this position2 years before the Internet came into wide spread use. And I am excited at the potential for the Internet to dramatically alter our global society for the better. However I am also troubled by the possible unintended negative consequences. There has been much talk about the“new information age.”But much less widely reported has been the notion that the Internet may be responsible for furthering the fragmentation of society by alienating its individual At first this might sound like an apparent contradiction：how can something，that is on the one hand responsible for global unification by enabling the free exchange of ideas，alienate the participants? I had a recent discussion with a friend of mine who has what he described as a“problem”with the Internet. When I questioned him further he said that he was“addicted，”4 and has“forced”himself to go off-line. He said that he felt like an alcoholic，in that moderate use of the Internet was just not possible for I have not known this fellow to be given to exaggeration，therefore when he described his internet binges，6 when he would spend over twenty-four hours on line non-stop，it gave me pause to think. He said，“the Internet isn‘t real，but I was spending all my time on line，so I just had to stop.”He went on to say that all of the time that he spent on line might have skewed7 his sense of reality，and that it made him feel lonely and depressed. The fragmentation of society has been lamented for some time now. It seems to me that it probably began in earnest after World War II when a generation returned from doing great deeds overseas. They won the war，and by God they were going to win the peace. Automobile ownership became commonplace and suburbs were created.“Progress”was their So even prior to the Internet‘s widespread popularity，folks were already becoming distanced from their extended families and neighbors. And when we fast-forward to today we see an almost cruel irony in that people can and often do develop on-line relationships with folks on the other side of the globe，without leaving their homes. But at the expense of the time that would have otherwise been available for involvement in other activities which might foster a sense of community in their villages，towns and cities. Last weekend my wife and I invited our extended family to our home to celebrate our daughter‘s birthday. During the celebration my young nephew spent the entire time on my computer playing a simulated war game. My brother-in-law and I were chatting near by and it struck us that in generations past，his son，my nephew，would have been outside playing with his friends. But now the little fellow goes on line to play his games against his friends in cyberspace. It seems to me that the Internet is a powerful tool that presents an opportunity for the advancement of the acquisition and application of knowledge. However，based on my personal experience I can understand how，as they surf the web some folks might be confronted with cognitive And I can also understand how one might have his or her sense of reality distorted in the process. Is the Internet a real place?Depending upon how a“real place”is defined it might very well be. At the very least，I believe that when we use the Internet，we are forced to ask fundamental questions about how we perceive the world about us—perhaps another unintended consequence. Some would argue that the virtual existences created by some users who debate，shop，travel and have romance on line are in fact not real. While others would argue that，since in practical terms，folks are debating，shopping，travelling and having romance，the converse is true. All of this being said，I believe that the key to realizing the potential of the Internet is in achieving balance in our lives. This would allow us to maximize its potential without losing our sense of However like most things that is easier said than done. It seems to me that we are a society that values immediate gratification above all else，and what better place to achieve it than in cyberspace，where the cyber-world is your The widespread use of the automobile forever changed our society and culture，and perhaps a similar sort of thing is occurring now. I am not at all certain where the“information superhighway”will lead us：some say to Utopia，12 while others feel it‘s the road to hell. But I do know that we all have the ability to maintain our sense of place in the world. Whether we choose to take advantage of this ability is another matter. 关于英语优秀文章阅读篇二 You! 生命掌握在你的手里——超越卓越的你 Consider…YOU. In all time before now and in all time to come，there has never been and will never be anyone just like you. You are unique in the entire history and future of the universe. Wow!Stop and think about that. You‘re better than one in a million，or a billion，or a gazillion… You are the only one like you in a sea of infinity! You‘re amazing!You’re awesome!And by the way，TAG，you‘re it. As amazing and awesome as you already are，you can be even more so. Beautiful young people are the whimsey of nature，but beautiful old people are true works of art. But you don’t become“beautiful”just by virtue of the aging process. Real beauty comes from learning，growing，and loving in the ways of life. That is the Art of Life. You can learn slowly，and sometimes painfully，by just waiting for life to happen to you. Or you can choose to accelerate your growth and intentionally devour life and all it offers. You are the artist that paints your future with the brush of today. Paint a Masterpiece. God gives every bird its food，but he doesn‘t throw it into its nest. Wherever you want to go，whatever you want to do，it’s truly up to you. 试想一下……你!一个空前绝后的你，不论是以往还是将来都不会有一个跟你一模一样的人。你在历史上和宇宙中都是独一无二的。哇!想想吧，你是万里挑一、亿里挑一、兆里挑一的。 在无穷无尽的宇宙中，你是举世无双的。 你是了不起的!你是卓越的!没错，就是你。你已经是了不起的，是卓越的，你还可以更卓越更了不起。美丽的年轻人是大自然的奇想，而美丽的老人却是艺术的杰作。但你不会因为年龄的渐长就自然而然地变得“美丽”。 真正的美丽源于生命里的学习、成长和热爱。这就是生命的艺术。你可以只听天由命，慢慢地学，有时候或许会很痛苦。又或许你可以选择加速自己的成长，故意地挥霍生活及其提供的一切。你就是手握今日之刷描绘自己未来的艺术家。 画出一幅杰作吧。 上帝给了鸟儿食物，但他没有将食物扔到它们的巢里。不管你想要去哪里，不管你想要做什么，真正做决定的还是你自己。 关于英语优秀文章阅读篇三 The Blanket (一床双人毛毯) Floyd Dell，born June 28，1887，Barry，Ill.，. died July 23，1969，Bethesda，Md. novelist and radical journalist whose fiction examined the changing mores in sex and politics among American bohemians before and after World War I. A precocious poet，Dell grew up in an impoverished family and left high school at age 16 to work in a factory. Moving to Chicago in 1908，he worked as a newspaperman and soon was a leader of the city‘s advanced literary movement. He became assistant editor of the Friday Literary Review of the Evening Post in 1909 and editor in 1911，making it one of the most noted American literary supplements. As a critic，he furthered the careers of Sherwood Anderson and Theodore Dreiser. A socialist since his youth，he moved to New York in 1914 and was associate editor of the left-wing The Masses until 1917. Dell was on the staff of The Liberator，which succeeded The Masses，from 1918 to 1924. His first and best novel，the largely autobiographical Moon-Calf，appeared in 1920，and its sequel，The Briary-Bush，in 1921. Homecoming，an autobiography taking him to his 35th year，was published in 1933. His other novels on life among the unconventional include Janet March(1923)，Runaway(1925)，and Love in Greenwich Village(1926)。His nonfiction includes Were You Ever a Child?(1919)，on child-rearing;the biography Upton Sinclair：A Study in Social Protest(1927);and Love in the Machine Age(1930)，which presented his views on sex. Little Accident，a play written with Thomas Mitchell and based on Dell’s novel An Unmarried Father(1927)，was successfully produced in 1928. Dell joined the Federal Writers Project and moved to Washington，.，in the late 1930s as an official for the project. He continued in government work after the project ended，until his retirement in 1947. Petey hadn‘t really believed that Dad would be doing It—sending Granddad away.“Away”was what they were calling until now could he believe it of his father. But here was the blanket that Dad had bought for Granddad，and in the morning he‘d be going away. This was the last evening they’d be having together. Dad was off seeing that girl he was to marry. He would not be back till late，so Petey and Granddad could sit up and talk. It was a fine September night，with a silver moon riding high. They washed up the supper dishes and then took their chairs out onto the porch.“I‘ll get my fiddle，”said the old man，“and play you some of the old tunes.” But instead of the fiddle he brought out the blanket. It was a big double blanket，red with black stripes.“Now，isn‘t that a fine blanket!”said the old man，smoothing it over his knees.“And isn’t your father a kind man to be giving the old fellow a blanket like that to go away with?It cost something，it did—look at the wool of it!There‘ll be few blankets there the equal of this one!” It was like Granddad to be saying that. He was trying to make it easier. He had pretended all along that he wanted to go away to the great brick building—the government place. There he‘d be with so many other old fellows，having the best of everything. . . . But Petey hadn’t believed Dad would really do it，not until this night when he brought home the blanket. “Oh，yes，it‘s a fine blanket，”said Petey. He got up and went into the house. He wasn’t the kind to cry and，besides，he was too old for that. He‘d just gone in to fetch Granddad’s fiddle. The blanket slid to the floor as the old man took the fiddle and stood up. He tuned up for a minute，and then said，“This is one you‘ll like to remember.” Petey sat and looked out over the gully. Dad would marry that girl. Yes，that girl who had kissed Petey and fussed over him，saying she‘d try to be a good mother to him，and all. . . . The tune stopped suddenly. Granddad said，“It‘s a fine girl your father’s going to marry. He‘ll be feeling young again with a pretty wife like that. And what would an old fellow like me be doing around their house，getting in the way?An old nuisance，what with my talks of aches and pains. It’s best that I go away，like I‘m doing. One more tune or two，and then we’ll be going to sleep. I‘ll pack up my blanket in the morning.” They didn‘t hear the two people coming down the path. Dad had one arm around the girl，whose bright face was like a doll’s. But they heard her when she laughed，right close by the porch. Dad didn‘t say anything，but the girl came forward and spoke to Granddad prettily：“I won’t be here when you leave in the morning，so I came over to say good-bye.” “It‘s kind of you，”said Granddad，with his eyes cast down. Then，seeing the blanket at his feet，he stooped to pick it up.“And will you look at this，”he said.“The fine blanket my son has given me to go away with.” “Yes，”she said.“It‘s a fine blanket.”She felt the wool and repeated in surprise，“A fine blanket—I’ll say it is!”She turned to Dad and said to him coldly，“That blanket really cost something.” Dad cleared his throat and said，“I wanted him to have the best. . . .” “It‘s double，too，”she said，as if accusing Dad. “Yes，”said Granddad，“it‘s double—a fine blanket for an old fellow to be going away with.” 17 The boy went suddenly into the house. He was looking for something. He could hear that girl scolding Dad. She realized how much of Dad‘s money—her money，really—had gone for the blanket. Dad became angry in his slow way. And now she was suddenly going away in a huff. . . . As Petey came out，she turned and called back，“All the same，he doesn‘t need a double blanket!”And she ran off up the path. Dad was looking after her as if he wasn‘t sure what he ought to do. “Oh，she‘s right，”Petey said.“Here，Dad”—and he held out a pair of scissors.“Cut the blanket in two.” Both of them stared at the boy，startled.“Cut it in two，I tell you，Dad!”he cried out.“And keep the other half.” “That‘s not a bad idea，”said Granddad gently.“I don’t need so much of a blanket.” “Yes，”the boy said harshly，“a single blanket‘s enough for an old man when he’s sent away. We‘ll save the other half，Dad. It’ll come in handy later.” “Now what do you mean by that?”asked Dad. “I mean，”said the boy slowly，“that I‘ll give it to you，Dad—when you’re old and I‘m sending you—away.” There was a silence. Then Dad went over to Granddad and stood before him，not speaking. But Granddad understood. He put out a hand and laid it on Dad‘s shoulder. And he heard Granddad whisper，“It’s all right，son. I knew you didn‘t mean it. . . .”And then Petey cried. But it didn‘t matter—because they were all crying together. Floyd Dell

教育 的进步是在改变的基础上实现的,改变的第一步就是摒弃墨守成规的教学思维,英语作为国际沟通交流的语言工具,其在全球化进程中扮演着重要的角色。下面是我带来的经典英语 文章 阅读，欢迎阅读!经典英语文章阅读篇一 十二月的玫瑰 Roses in December Coaches more times than not use their hearts instead of their heads to make tough decisions. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case when I realized we had a baseball conference game scheduled when our seniors would be in Washington, . for the annual senior field trip. We were a team dominated by seniors, and for the first time in many years, we were in the conference race for first place. I knew we couldn’t win without our seniors, so I called the rival coach and asked to reschedule the game when everyone was available to play. “No way,” he replied. The seniors were crushed and offered to skip the much-awaited traditional trip. I assured them they needed to go on the trip as part of their educational experience, though I really wanted to accept their offer and win and go on to the conference championship. But I did not, and on that fateful Tuesday, I wished they were there to play. I had nine underclass players eager and excited that they finally had a chance to play. The most excited player was a young mentally challenged boy we will call Billy. Billy was, I believe, overage, but because he loved sports so much, an understanding principal had given him permission to be on the football and baseball teams. Billy lived and breathed sports and now he would finally get his chance to play. I think his happiness captured the imagination of the eight other substitute players. Billy was very small in size, but he had a big heart and had earned the respect of his teammates with his effort and enthusiasm. He was a left-handed hitter and had good baseball skills. His favorite pastime, except for the time he practiced sports, was to sit with the men at a local rural store talking about sports. On this day, I began to feel that a loss might even be worth Billy’s chance to play. Our opponents jumped off to a four-run lead early in the game, just as expected. Somehow we came back to within one run, and that was the situation when we went to bat in the bottom of the ninth. I was pleased with our team’s effort and the constant grin on Billy’s face. If only we could win..., I thought, but that’s asking too much. If we lose by one run, it will be a victory in itself. The weakest part of our lineup was scheduled to hit, and the opposing coach put his ace pitcher in to seal the victory. To our surprise, with two outs, a batter walked, and the tying run was on first base. Our next hitter was Billy. The crowd cheered as if this were the final inning of the conference championship, and Billy waved jubilantly. I knew he would be unable to hit this pitcher, but what a day it had been for all of us. Strike one. Strike two. A fastball. Billy hit it down the middle over the right fielder’s head for a triple to tie the score. Billy was beside himself, and the crowd went wild. Ben, our next hitter, however, hadn’t hit the ball even once in batting practice or intrasquad games. I knew there was absolutely no way for the impossible dream to continue. Besides, our opponents had the top of their lineup if we went into overtime. It was a crazy situation and one that needed reckless strategy. I called a time-out, and everyone seemed confused when I walked to third base and whispered something to Billy. As expected, Ben swung on the first two pitches, not coming close to either. When the catcher threw the ball back to the pitcher Billy broke from third base sprinting as hard as he could. The pitcher didn’t see him break, and when he did he whirled around wildly and fired the ball home. Billy dove in head first, beat the throw, and scored the winning run. This was not the World Series, but don’t tell that to anyone present that day. Tears were shed as Billy, the hero, was lifted on the shoulders of all eight team members. If you go through town today, forty-two years later, you’ll likely see Billy at that same country store relating to an admiring group the story of the day he won the game that no one expected to win. Of all the spectacular events in my sports career, this memory is the highlight. It exemplified what sports can do for people, and Billy’s great day proved that to everyone who saw the game. J. M. Barrie, the playwright, may have said it best when he wrote, “God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” Billy gave all of us a rose garden. 经典英语文章阅读篇二 Big Red The first time we set eyes on "Big Red," father, mother and I were trudging through the freshly fallen snow on our way to Hubble's Hardware store on Main Street in Huntsville, Ontario. We planned to enter our name in the annual Christmas drawing for a chance to win a hamper filled with fancy tinned cookies, tea, fruit and candy. As we passed the Eaton's department store's window, we stopped as usual to gaze and do a bit of dreaming. The gaily decorated window display held the best toys ever. I took an instant hankering for a huge green wagon. It was big enough to haul three armloads of firewood, two buckets of swill or a whole summer's worth of pop bottles picked from along the highway. There were skates that would make Millar's Pond well worth shovelling and dolls much too pretty to play with. And they were all nestled snugly beneath the breathtakingly flounced skirt of Big Red. Mother's eyes were glued to the massive flare of red shimmering satin, dotted with twinkling sequin-centred black velvet stars. "My goodness," she managed to say in trancelike wonder. "Would you just look at that dress!" Then, totally out of character, mother twirled one spin of a waltz on the slippery sidewalk. Beneath the heavy, wooden-buttoned, grey wool coat she had worn every winter for as long as I could remember, mother lost her balance and tumbled. Father quickly caught her. Her cheeks redder than usual, mother swatted dad for laughing. "Oh, stop that!" she ordered, shooing his fluttering hands as he swept the snow from her coat. "What a silly dress to be perched up there in the window of Eaton's!" She shook her head in disgust. "Who on earth would want such a splashy dress?" As we continued down the street, mother turned back for one more look. "My goodness! You'd think they'd display something a person could use!" Christmas was nearing, and the red dress was soon forgotten. Mother, of all people, was not one to wish for, or spend money on, items that were not practical. "There are things we need more than this," she'd always say, or, "There are things we need more than that." Father, on the other hand, liked to indulge whenever the budget allowed. Of course, he'd get a scolding for his occasional splurging, but it was all done with the best intention. Like the time he brought home the electric range. In our old Muskoka farmhouse on Oxtongue Lake, Mother was still cooking year-round on a wood stove. In the summer, the kitchen would be so hot even the houseflies wouldn't come inside. Yet, there would be Mother – roasting - right along with the pork and turnips. One day, Dad surprised her with a fancy new electric range. She protested, of course, saying that the wood stove cooked just dandy, that the electric stove was too dear and that it would cost too much hydro to run it. All the while, however, she was polishing its already shiny chrome knobs. In spite of her objections, Dad and I knew that she cherished that new stove. There were many other modern things that old farm needed, like indoor plumbing and a clothes dryer, but Mom insisted that those things would have to wait until we could afford them. Mom was forever doing chores - washing laundry by hand, tending the pigs and working in our huge garden - so she always wore mended, cotton-print housedresses and an apron to protect the front. She did have one or two "special" dresses saved for church on Sundays. And with everything else she did, she still managed to make almost all of our clothes. They weren't fancy, but they did wear well. That Christmas I bought Dad a handful of fishing lures from the Five to a Dollar store, and wrapped them individually in matchboxes so he'd have plenty of gifts to open from me. Choosing something for Mother was much harder. When Dad and I asked, she thought carefully then hinted modestly for some tea towels, face cloths or a new dishpan. On our last trip to town before Christmas, we were driving up Main Street when Mother suddenly exclaimed in surprise: "Would you just look at that!" She pointed excitedly as Dad drove past Eaton's. "That big red dress is gone," she said in disbelief. "It's actually gone." "Well . . . I'll be!" Dad chuckled. "By golly, it is!" "Who'd be fool enough to buy such a frivolous dress?" Mother questioned, shaking her head. I quickly stole a glance at Dad. His blue eyes were twinkling as he nudged me with his elbow. Mother craned her neck for another glimpse out the rear window as we rode on up the street. "It's gone . . ." she whispered. I was almost certain that I detected a trace of yearning in her voice. I'll never forget that Christmas morning. I watched as Mother peeled the tissue paper off a large box that read "Eaton's Finest Enamel Dishpan" on its lid. "Oh Frank," she praised, "just what I wanted!" Dad was sitting in his rocker, a huge grin on his face. "Only a fool wouldn't give a priceless wife like mine exactly what she wants for Christmas," he laughed. "Go ahead, open it up and make sure there are no chips." Dad winked at me, confirming his secret, and my heart filled with more love for my father than I thought it could hold! Mother opened the box to find a big white enamel dishpan - overflowing with crimson satin that spilled out across her lap. With trembling hands she touched the elegant material of Big Red. "Oh my goodness!" she managed to utter, her eyes filled with tears. "Oh Frank . . ." Her face was as bright as the star that twinkled on our tree in the corner of the small room. "You shouldn't have . . ." came her faint attempt at scolding. "Oh now, never mind that!" Dad said. "Let's see if it fits," he laughed, helping her slip the marvellous dress over her shoulders. As the shimmering red satin fell around her, it gracefully hid the patched and faded floral housedress underneath. I watched, my mouth agape, captivated by a radiance in my parents I had never noticed before. As they waltzed around the room, Big Red swirled its magic deep into my heart. "You look beautiful," my dad whispered to my mom - and she surely did! 经典英语文章阅读篇三 你才是我的幸福 She was dancing. My crippled grandmother was dancing. I stood in the living room doorway absolutely stunned. I glanced at the kitchen table and sure enough-right under a small, framed drawing on the wall-was a freshly baked peach pie. I heard her sing when I opened the door but did not want to interrupt the beautiful song by yelling I had arrived, so I just tiptoed to the living room. I looked at how her still-lean body bent beautifully, her arms greeting the sunlight that was pouring through the window. And her legs... Those legs that had stiffly walked, aided with a cane, insensible shoes as long as I could remember. Now she was wearing beautiful dancing shoes and her legs obeyed her perfectly. No limping. No stiffness. Just beautiful, fluid motion. She was the pet of the dancing world. And then she’d had her accident and it was all over. I had read that in an old newspaper clipping. She turned around in a slow pirouette and saw me standing in the doorway. Her song ended, and her beautiful movements with it, so abruptly that it felt like being shaken awake from a beautiful dream. The sudden silence rang in my ears. Grandma looked so much like a kid caught with her hand in a cookie jar that I couldn’t help myself, and a slightly nervous laughter escaped. Grandma sighed and turned towards the kitchen. I followed her, not believing my eyes. She was walking with no difficulties in her beautiful shoes. We sat down by the table and cut ourselves big pieces of her delicious peach pie. "So...” I blurted, “How did your leg heal?" "To tell you the truth—my legs have been well all my life," she said. "But I don’t understand!" I said, "Your dancing career... I mean... You pretended all these years? "Very much so," Grandmother closed her eyes and savored the peach pie, "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 and love against each other and love won." She thought for a while and then continued. “We were talking about engagement when your grandfather had to go to war. It was the most horrible day of my life when he left. I was so afraid of losing him, the only way I could stay sane was to dance. I put all my energy and time into practicing—and I became very good. Critics praised me, the public loved me, but all I could feel was the ache in my heart, not knowing whether the love of my life would ever return. Then I went home and read and re-read his letters until I fell asleep. He always ended his letters with ‘You are my Joy. I love you with my life’ and after that he wrote his name. 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.’” "I made my decision there and then. I took my leave, and traveled away from the city. When I returned I had bought myself a cane and wrapped my leg tightly with bandages. I told everyone I had been in a car crash and that my leg would never completely heal again. My dancing days were over. No one suspected the story—I had learned to limp convincingly before I returned home. And I made sure the first person to hear of my accident was a reporter I knew well. Then I traveled to the hospital. They had pushed your grandfather outside in his wheelchair. There was a cane on the ground by his wheelchair. I took a deep breath, leaned on my cane and limped to him. " By now I had forgotten about the pie and listened to grandma, mesmerized. “What happened then?” I hurried her when she took her time eating some pie. "I told him he was not the only one who had lost a leg, even if mine was still attached to me. I showed him newspaper clippings of my accident. ‘So if you think I’m going to let you feel sorry for yourself for the rest of your life, think again. There is a whole life waiting for us out there! I don’t intend to be sorry for myself. But I have enough on my plate as it is, so you’d better snap out of it too. And I am not going to carry you-you are going to walk yourself.’" Grandma giggled, a surprisingly girlish sound coming from an old lady with white hair. "I limped a few steps toward him and showed him what I’d taken out of my pocket. ‘Now show me you are still a man,’ I said, ‘I won’t ask again.’ He bent to take his cane from the ground and struggled out of that wheelchair. I could see he had not done it before, because he almost fell on his face, having only one leg. But I was not going to help. And so he managed it on his own and walked to me and never sat in a wheelchair again in his life." "What did you show him?" I had to know. Grandma looked at me and grinned. "Two engagement rings, of course. I had bought them the day after he left for the war and I was not going to waste them on any other man." I looked at the drawing on the kitchen wall, sketched by my grandfather’s hand so many years before. The picture became distorted as tears filled my eyes. “You are my Joy. I love you with my life.” I murmured quietly. The young woman in the drawing sat on her park bench and with twinkling eyes smiled broadly at me, an engagement ring carefully drawn on her finger. 看了“经典英语文章阅读”的人还看了： 1. 经典美文阅读:生命在于完整 2. 英语经典美文阅读:品味现在 3. 经典美文佳作英汉阅读 4. 励志经典英语美文阅读 5. 一生必读的英文经典美文