题目内容
When my grandfather died, my 83-year-old grandmother, once so full of life, slowly began to fade. No longer able to manage a home of her own, she moved in with my mother, where she was visited often by other members of her large, loving family. Although she still had her good days, it was often hard to arouse her interest.
But one chilly December afternoon three years ago, my daughter Meagan, then eight, and I were visiting her, when she noticed that Meagan was carrying her favorite doll.“I, too, had a special doll when I was a little girl,” she told a wide-eyed Meagan. “I got it one Christmas when I was about your age. I lived in an old farmhouse in Maine, with Mom, Dad and my four sisters, and the very first gift I opened that Christmas was the most beautiful doll you’d ever want to see.”
“She had an exquisite(优美的,高雅的), hand-painted face, and her long brown hair was pulled back with a big pink bow. Her eyes were blue, and they opened and closed. I remember she had a body of kidskin, and her arms and legs bent at the joints.”
GG’s voice dropped low, taking on an almost respectful tone. “My doll was dressed in a pretty pink gown, decorated with fine lace. … Getting such a fine doll was like a miracle for a little farm girl like me — my parents must have had to sacrifice so much to afford it But how happy I was that morning!”
GG’s eyes filled and her voice shook with emotion as she recalled that Christmas of long ago. “I played with my doll all morning long. And then it happened. My mother called us to the dining room for Christmas dinner and I laid my new doll down gently on the hall table. But as I went to join the family at the table, I heard a loud crash.”
“I hardly had to turn around — I knew it was my precious doll. And it was. Her lace skirt had hung down from the table just enough for my baby sister to reach up and pull on it. When I ran in, there lay my beautiful doll on the floor, her face smashed into a dozen pieces. She was gone forever.”
A few years later, GG’s baby sister was also gone, she told Meagan, a victim of pneumonia(肺炎). Now the tears in her eyes spilled over — tears, I knew, not only for a lost doll and a lost sister, but for a lost time.
Subdued(沉默的) for the rest of the visit, Meagan was no sooner in the car going home than she exclaimed, “Mom, I have a great idea! Let’s get GG a new doll for Christmas. Then she won’t cry when she thinks about it.”
My heart filled with pride as I listened to my sympathetic little daughter. But where would we find a doll to match GG’s fond memories?
Where there’s a will, as they say, there’s a way. When I told my best friends, Liz and Chris, about my problem, Liz put me in touch with a local doll-make. From a doll supply house I ordered a long brown hair and a kidskin body to copy the outfit GG had so lovingly described. Liz volunteered to put the doll together, and Chris helped me make the doll’s outfit. Meagan wrote the story of the lost doll by giving examples.
Finally our creation was finished. To our eyes it was perfect. But there was no way it could be exactly like the doll GG had loved so much and lost. Would she think it looked anything like it?
On Christmas Eve, Meagan and I carried our happily packed gift to GG, where she sat surrounded by children, parents, aunts, uncles and cousins. “It’s for you,” Meagan said, “but first you have to read the story that goes with it.”
GG no sooner got through the first page than her voice cracked and she was unable to go on, but Meagan took over where she left off. Then it was time to open her present.
I’ll never forget the look on GG’s face as she lifted the doll and held it to her chest. Once again her tears fell, but this time they were tears of joy. Holding the doll in her frail arms, she repeated over and over again, “She’s exactly like my old doll, exactly like her.”
And perhaps she wasn't saying that just to be kind. Perhaps however impossible it seemed, we had managed to produce a close copy of the doll she remembered. But as I watched my eight-year-old daughter and her great-grandmother examining the doll together, I thought of a likelier explanation. What GG really recognized, perhaps, was the love that inspired the gift. And love, wherever it comes from, always looks the same.
60. GG moved in with her daughter because ______.
A. she wanted to live with a large family
B. she was not able to live on her own due to her weakness
C. her husband passed away
D. she thought it was the children’s obligation to take care of her
61. Why did GG become very emotional on a December afternoon?
A. Because she saw her great granddaughter’s doll.
B. Because she recalled her long deceased parents.
C. Because she was surrounded by her offspring.
D. Because she felt lonely during the Christmas season.
62. What can we infer from the underlined sentence in paragraph 4?
A. GG’s doll was important and was a symbol of many things.
B. GG showed great respect for his husband’s love.
C. GG missed the great old days she spent with her family
D. GG was grateful for her long life.
63. What happened to GG’s baby sister?
A. She envied her sister all her life.
B. She felt guilty for breaking GG’s doll and decided to go.
C. She left home at a young age.
D. She died of some disease at a young age.
64. Why did Meagan’s mum feel proud of her daughter?
A. Because she was clever. B. Because she was loving.
C. Because she was amiable. D. Because she was imaginative.
65. This passage implies that ______.
A. treating the elderly well is moral
B. it is impossible to copy the exact doll for the elderly
C. love, the permanent rhythm of life, will always remain in the elderly’s heart
D. physical comfort from children rather than psychological care is important
BAADBC
Our children grew up on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, although my husband and I sometimes sneak one late at night with a glass of milk. I believe that the success of this 31 lovedconcoction(混合物) lies not in the brand of peanut butter, 32 in the jelly. The right jelly 33 the palate, and homemade is the only choice.
My mother-in-law was the jelly maker in this family. This limited choice was a welcome 34 in the days of toddlers, siblings and puppies. All I did was to 35 baby food jars, which my mother-in-law would seal with wax(蜡) and 36 back home with us. 37 I wanted to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich , all I had to do was reach for one of little jars. Jelly making was just a way of 38 for my mother-in-law. She always did it, setting the 39 jelly on the shelves .
My father-in-law died several years ago and this past December, she also 40 . Among the things in the house to be divided by her children were the 41 canned goods.
The other day I reached my pantry(储物间) for jelly for a quick sandwich. Sitting all alone on the far side of the shelf was a small jar of grape jelly, whose lid was 42 in places. 43 on it were “GR” for grape and the year when the jelly was made.
As I picked up the jar, I suddenly realized something that I had 44 to see earlier. This was the last jar we would ever have from the 45 , loving hands . We hardly ever opened a jar of jelly at table without 46 about those thousands of little jars she had filled. It seems like such a small thing, and most days it was something that was 47 for granted.
No longer was it just a jar of jelly. It was the end of a family 48 . We have hundreds of pictures and many more memories that we expect to 49 the years and to pass on to our children. The jar of jelly won’t keep that long. It will either have to be eaten or 50 ...but not today.
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