Ella’s First Fashion Creation
Ella was wearing a new dress and she felt like a famous model, Even better, it was a dress she made! Her very first piece of fashion!
“What do you think?” she asked her family. They were all gathered at the kitchen table for breakfast. “It’s very pretty. I can’t believe you designed and sewed that all by yourself!” Mom said.“I’m so proud of you! How long did that take?”Dad asked. Ella pulled out her chair and sat down.“Two weeks! But I think I could make the next one faster. I had a few problems.
Ella smiled. She had so many problems making the dress, but right now it was all worth it. It was going to be a great day.
The kids at school weren’t quite as excited about her dress as she thought they would be, but she did get some nice comments from some of the girls, so she was happy about that. The day went by quickly, and before she knew it, she was outside for the last break of the day. What a perfect day, she thought to herself as she swung on the swings.
The school bell rang and the break was over. When the swing was close to stopping, Ella jumped off. When she landed, she heard a loud rip (撕裂). She moved her hand to the back of her dress. It was ripped all the way down the back! Her very first fashion creation fell apart! Ella was so embarrassed.
Ella spotted her teacher, Miss Miller, near the door. Ella took one hand from her dress and waved for Miss Miller to come to her. Miss Miller came up and looked at the back of Ella’s dress.“Oh no! And it is such a beautiful dress!” “I made it myself,” Ella said. “You must be very proud! You did a great job!” “Not really. Or it wouldn’t have ripped.” “Well, that happens sometimes. Even with clothes you buy in the store!”
Miss Miller took off her sweater and helped Ella to pull it on.
“We can’t avoid problems,” said Mom.
My writing career began quite accidentally. It was all because of my friend Henry.
Born into a poor family, Henry had no chance to attend school. He couldn’t read but he liked my reading for him greatly. One day I played a little trick on Henry. I was reading him a story from my textbook. Suddenly I moved away from the story and made up my own, pretending to turn pages regularly. Henry, of course, had no idea at all. Upon finishing the story, Henry began to clap.
“That was the best story you’ve read me in a long time,” he said, still clapping.
I laughed. “Really?”
“It was great. Will you read me more of it tomorrow?”
“Fascinating,” I thought, feeling like a man who discovered a buried treasure in his own backyard. That same night, I tried writing my first short story. It was a story about a man who found a magic cup. If he cried into the cup, his tears turned into pearls (珍珠), but he was a happy man and rarely cried. So he managed to find ways to make himself sad. The story ended with the man sitting on a mountain of pearls, unable to feel happy any longer.
The next day, I ran to Henry after school, asking him to hear the story and told him I wrote it last night. Henry was totally absorbed in it, his face shifting as the story developed.
“Some day, you will be a great writer,” Henry said. “And your stories will be read all over the world. But can I ask a question? Why didn’t the man just eat some onions to make himself cry to get pearls?” I was shocked because I never expected Henry could be helpful to my writing. I rewrote it and with Henry’s encouragement, I sent it to a magazine. To my surprise, it was published and sold well.
Whenever I finished a new story, I would turn to Henry.
I decided to use the money to help Henry.
We’ve all been there: in a lift, in line at the bank or on an airplane, surrounded by people who are, like us, deeply focused on their smartphones or, worse, struggling with the uncomfortable silence.
What’s the problem? It’s possible that we all have compromised conversational intelligence. It’s more likely that none of us start a conversation because it’s awkward and challenging, or we think it’s annoying and unnecessary. But the next time you find yourself among strangers, consider that small talk is worth the trouble. Experts say it’s an invaluable social practice that results in big benefits.
Dismissing small talk as unimportant is easy, but we can’t forget that deep relationships wouldn’t
even exist if it weren’t for casual conversation. Small talk is the grease(润滑剂) for social communication, says Bernardo Carducci, director of the Shyness Research Institute at Indiana University Southeast. ＂Almost every great love story and each big business deal begins with small talk,＂ he explains. ＂The key to successful small talk is learning how to connect with others, not just communicate with them.＂
In a 2014 study, Elizabeth Dunn, associate professor of psychology at UBC, invited people on their way into a coffee shop. One group was asked to seek out an interaction(互动) with its waiter; the other, to speak only when necessary. The results showed that those who chatted with their server reported significantly higher positive feelings and a better coffee shop experience. ＂It’s not that talking to the waiter is better than talking to your husband,＂ says Dunn. ＂But interactions with peripheral(边缘的) members of our social network matter for our well-being also.＂
Dunn believes that people who reach out to strangers feel a significantly greater sense of belonging, a bond with others. Carducci believes developing such a sense of belonging starts with small talk. ＂Small talk is the basis of good manners,＂ he says.
1．What phenomenon is described in the first paragraph?| A．Addiction to smartphones. |
| B．Inappropriate behaviours in public places. |
| C．Absence of communication between strangers. |
| D．Impatience with slow service. |
| A．Showing good manners. | B．Relating to other people. |
| C．Focusing on a topic. | D．Making business deals. |
| A．It improves family relationships. | B．It raises people’s confidence. |
| C．It matters as much as a formal talk. | D．It makes people feel good. |
| A．Conversation Counts | B．Ways of Making Small Talk |
| C．Benefits of Small Talk | D．Uncomfortable Silence |
A Charitable Heart
Mom had a unique perspective on being charitable that I didn’t really understand until one cold winter day when she picked me up at school.
“Who is that child? “Mom peered through the windshield as a skinny, greasy-haired girl led a crew of ragged children across the street. “They don’t even have coats. It’s freezing! “
“That’s Becky Ingler. She always looks like that, “I replied. My mother watched them move along the sidewalk. “Where are we going? “I asked as she inched along the street, keeping pace about a half-block behind the Inglers.
They entered a half-ruined store. “They live here?” Mom mumbled, looking at me. “Tell me about them.” I told her what I knew; that the Inglers didn’t have a father, and sometimes they smelled funny and everybody laughed at them. My mother nodded thoughtfully. “I think I’ll visit them tomorrow.” She turned to me and added, “I want you to come with me.” “OK.” I replied.
The next day, I followed Mom to the Inglers’ front door. A tiny, exhausted-looking woman appeared, and Mom smiled and offered her hand. “Hello, Mrs. Ingler. I’m Mrs. Tovey. I’m just visiting some of our neighbors to get acquainted. “Once inside, my mother studied each of the children surrounding unhappy Becky, who was reading a worn-out book to them. She rudely ignored my nod. Mrs. Ingler smiled politely and thanked us for our visit. Before we left, Mom told Mrs. Ingler she sincerely hoped we would see her again soon. I could not understand what she meant by that, but I soon learned.
Mom worked her old sewing machine for two days and nights. She collected coats from the donation boxes, local secondhand stores and our own closets, patching, taking in and letting out seams (缝合线). “Wow!” I said. “They’re lucky to get these.”
“No,” said Mom as she faced me. “We’re the lucky ones to be able to help them. But we need to make sure the Inglers don’t have to pay a price for them. “She then explained, “I don’t want these coats to cost them their pride or their dignity.”
Later that day, we went to the Inglers’ again.
Mrs. Ingler gazed at the coat, and then glanced at Becky, who was eyeing it with interest.
Sometimes people around you can change your life. The change may not be sudden or
One thing I've learned from Julia is how to balance
Last year I hated studying vocabulary, but I loved playing on my computer. Julia
Julia has always
| A．simple | B．slight | C．necessary | D．impressive |
| A．results | B．problems | C．ideas | D．decisions |
| A．taught | B．served | C．offered | D．bought |
| A．for | B．of | C．throughout | D．into |
| A．work | B．money | C．career | D．time |
| A．plan | B．get | C．move | D．stay |
| A．never | B．seldom | C．yet | D．still |
| A．excited | B．determined | C．careful | D．patient |
| A．important | B．easy | C．possible | D．interesting |
| A．shared | B．remembered | C．combined | D．separated |
| A．watch | B．play | C．raise | D．improve |
| A．permitted | B．invited | C．challenged | D．reminded |
| A．lessons | B．skills | C．words | D．stories |
| A．learned | B．read | C．used | D．spelled |
| A．allowed | B．warned | C．forced | D．encouraged |
| A．Therefore | B．Besides | C．However | D．Otherwise |
| A．Unless | B．If | C．Although | D．Since |
| A．realized | B．noticed | C．imagined | D．dreamed |
| A．turn away | B．make a difference | C．show off | D．make a mistake |
| A．ready | B．sorry | C．thankful | D．anxious |
Once upon a time, there was an old man who couldn't read or write. When he was little, his family was so poor that he couldn't attend school. But he always dreamed of being able to read.
One day, he took his seven-year-old grandson to school.
Since he didn't have anything to do that day, he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he stood outside his grandson's classroom and looked in through the window.
The kids' teacher, who was an old man in his fifties, entered the classroom when the class began. The teacher was wearing thick glasses. He started teaching. Through watching him, the old man found something interesting, He noticed that the teacher could read nothing without putting his glasses on. As soon as he put on his glasses, he could read very well.
“How amazing! said the old man to himself.
He waited outside the classroom until the class was over and stopped the teacher.
“Excuse me, sir," said the old man to the teacher.
“Yes?” said the teacher.
“I noticed something amazing. You can't read without the glasses, right?" said the old man.
"Yes, that's true. I can read nothing without them," replied the teacher.
"But you can read once you put them on, can't you?" asked the old man.
"Yes, that's true, too," replied the teacher, wondering why the old man was asking such strange questions.
The teacher looked at the old man, who left in a hurry with a big smile on his face.
The old man, who was extremely happy, decided to go to town to find an eyeglasses store. After being unable to read so many years, he finally found an easy way to read, which cheered him up. He realized what he needed to read was just a pair of glasses.
"I can finally read,” said the old man to himself when walking to the town.
Finally, the man arrived at the town. He looked around and soon found a store with glasses in it, The man happily entered the store.
After the old man entered the store, the store owner greeted him.
The store owner, thinking the old man didn't like that pair, picked another pair far him.
"Pick up the pace!" said Amy's husband. "But I can't!" Amy said, her heart beating quickly inside. "I can't go any faster! Her husband encouraged her. "Yes, you can! You're making progress every day.”
To help Amy stay healthy, her husband had been running with her for over two years. Several years ago, Amy could barely walk down the stairs of her apartment building due to fatness caused by eating disorders. She realized the problem after a failed job interview and began walking to improve her ability to move. At first, she could walk for only 15 minutes at a time. But she pushed herself every day, walking 5 minutes longer than she did the day before until she walked for an hour and eventually two. For three years, Amy kept her walking habit, slowly and painstakingly building her body shape. Then she changed her walking shoes to running shoes about two years ago and became an excellent runner.
In March 2001, an advertisement invited people to nominate（提名）an ordinary person who inspired them to bring the Olympic flame to Salt Lake City as torch bearers（火炬手）or support runners.（Support runners serve as “guardians of the flame" and run with torch bearers along the journey.）Amy's experiences touched her husband, so he nominated her to be a torch bearer. The possibility to be selected was low, but Amy wanted to try.
Running taught Amy the importance of training for a race. She pictured herself running a race and crossing the finish line. For months, she ran through her neighborhood carrying a broken-off broom handle, feeling the weight of the torch. She waved at her neighbors, pretending they were cheering crowds. She also printed a picture of a torch bearer wearing the white uniform, replaced the face with a picture of hers, and put it onto her refrigerator door.
Every day, Amy imagined herself as a torch bearer. She was training for a historic running event. On September 26th, while on her daily run through her neighborhood, an express package arrived.
"One of today's torch bearers can't run her part, " announced the relay organizer.
One afternoon after school, Mary and his brother, Keith, were eating at a cafe near their home. That afternoon, they had to share their table with another person. That person was a young lady in her twenties. After eating, she went to the restroom. Without realizing, she had left her handphone on the table. Five minutes later, she came out and walked out of the cafe without looking back.
Mary saw the handphone on the table. She quickly told Keith, “Keith, the girl left behind her handphone.” Keith looked at the handphone. It was one of the latest models on the market. Looking very sleek, it was red in color with a black cover. The handphone must be expensive.
Keith had always wanted a handphone, But his parents refused. He stared at it for some minutes. Then he said slowly, pausing on every word, “I want to take the handphone,” Mary could not believe her eyes. She merely stared at her brother, “you can’t! What if the owner comes to look for it?”
Having made the decision, Keith quickly grabbed the handphone and put it in his schoolbag. Then, he took Mary’s hand and led her out of the cafe quickly. Outside the café, he ran to his bicycle. Mary had to run after him.
Once back home, Keith locked his house door with trembling hands. Looking at the handphone, he liked it so much. Now he had his own handphone. But Mary told him, “Keith, you cannot keep the handphone. What will you tell father about this handphone?”
Keith said quickly, “I will say a friend lent it to me.”
Mary said, “Now you are lying, too.” Oh dear! When had Keith turned so dishonest?
Then Mary saw a house phone number on the plastic cover of the handphone, “This phone number is the girl’s phone number. Why don’t we just call this number? We will talk to her and ask her to come and take back her handphone.” She was trying her best to talk some sense into him.
That night, Keith couldn’t go to sleep, reflecting in bed. ___________________________________________________________________________________________
One Saturday morning, I got a call from my aunt. She told me that she had to go with my uncle on a business trip for the day, and she wondered if I could look after my little 6-year-old cousin, Max. I knew that for them, leaving their dearest son for a day was the last thing in the whole world they would do, because they were what is known as “helicopter parents”, who keep watching everything their kids do. As a high school student, I knew exactly that children who were brought up by helicopter parents could end up having many problems and I hoped I could do something to improve the situation, so I accepted her request. Actually, I was honored to be trusted by such parents.
When I arrived there, my aunt and uncle were just ready to go out. The last thing my aunt said to me before they left was “Don’t let him hurt himself while we are away.” She repeated it several times until she thought I took it seriously. After they left, I tried to teach Max to play some games that might be against my aunt’s will, but failed. Max seemed not to be interested, and even frightened. I didn’t want to push him, so I decided to slow it down.
Around lunch time, Max asked me what was for lunch. I said, “I don’t know, what do you want?” He said, “Can you cook scrambled eggs?” I replied, “Of course I can!” “Well,” said Max, “I want some.” I asked him if he could cook. He looked at me in amazement, and said, “Of course not. Mom won’t allow me to approach the kitchen. She thinks I’ll be burnt if I try to do that, but I think it would be amazing to cook what I like on my own.”
Suddenly, I had an idea.
When my aunt and uncle returned, they saw Max cooking a dinner in the kitchen.
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