TS said that everyone has a changing circle of friends. However, no matter how frequently we renew our phone books, some names always remain. These names remind us of the good times we spent together with our friends. Though we may not see them every  day, they will always stay in our hearts.
Tom was often called "Big Head" at school because of his extraordinarily large head. He was one of my close friends at primary school. But since graduation, we have been studying in different cities and haven't seen each other for a long time.
Several days ago, I received an e-mail saying that my former classmates from primary school were holding a party to get together and chat about past memories. I was so excited because [ would get to see Tom again. What would he look like now? Would we still feel as close to each other as we had done back then? I was a little frightened about what I would find.
When I arrived at the party, I did manage to recognize Tom. However, he was much taller than he had been before. What's more, his head was no longer big.
"Hi, Buddy. Do you recognize me?" Tom walked towards me.
"Of course. How could I ever forget our ' Big Head' ," I said jokingly, "But where has your big head gone?"
"Haha, maybe it didn't keep up with the steps of time and stayed in the past," Tom patted his own head and answered with a laugh.
All my misgivings suddenly disappeared. I realized that time had changed us outwardly, but our friendship hadn't changed at all. I chatted happily with Tom about our shared experiences in primary school.
Then I looked around the small room and saw different faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, but none of them the faces of strangers. The whole party was filled with a warm atmosphere. Everyone was lost in the sweet memories of childhood. They forgot all their present-day stresses and pressures.
"Hey, what are you thinking about? Come and get some pizza!" A call from a friend woke me up from my thoughts. I hurried towards the table. "Wait! That biggest piece is mine!"
【小题1】Why are some names always in our phone books?

TS said that everyone has a changing circle of friends. However, no matter how frequently we renew our phone books, some names always remain. These names remind us of the good times we spent together with our friends. Though we may not see them every  day, they will always stay in our hearts.

Tom was often called "Big Head" at school because of his extraordinarily large head. He was one of my close friends at primary school. But since graduation, we have been studying in different cities and haven't seen each other for a long time.

Several days ago, I received an e-mail saying that my former classmates from primary school were holding a party to get together and chat about past memories. I was so excited because [ would get to see Tom again. What would he look like now? Would we still feel as close to each other as we had done back then? I was a little frightened about what I would find.

When I arrived at the party, I did manage to recognize Tom. However, he was much taller than he had been before. What's more, his head was no longer big.

"Hi, Buddy. Do you recognize me?" Tom walked towards me.

"Of course. How could I ever forget our ' Big Head' ," I said jokingly, "But where has your big head gone?"

"Haha, maybe it didn't keep up with the steps of time and stayed in the past," Tom patted his own head and answered with a laugh.

All my misgivings suddenly disappeared. I realized that time had changed us outwardly, but our friendship hadn't changed at all. I chatted happily with Tom about our shared experiences in primary school.

Then I looked around the small room and saw different faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, but none of them the faces of strangers. The whole party was filled with a warm atmosphere. Everyone was lost in the sweet memories of childhood. They forgot all their present-day stresses and pressures.

"Hey, what are you thinking about? Come and get some pizza!" A call from a friend woke me up from my thoughts. I hurried towards the table. "Wait! That biggest piece is mine!"

1.Why are some names always in our phone books?

A．Because everyone has a changing circle of friends.

B．Because we sometimes forget to renew phone books.

C．Because we'll never forget some of our friends.

D．Because our circle of friends will not change.

2.According to the passage, which of the following statements is TRUE?

A．Tom has changed a lot since primary school.

B．Tom invited the author to the get-together party by email.

C．The author recognized Tom immediately because of his big head.

D．Tom couldn't recognize the author at the first sight.

3.What does the underlined word "misgiving" mean (in para. 8 )?

A．expectation and excitement               B．worries and doubts

C．stresses and pressures                   D．shyness and nervousness

4.The author writes the last paragraph to show

A．others can't understand what the author is thinking about

B．The pizzas are not adequate for everyone in the party

C．the author wants to have a big pizza very much

D．the author enjoys the warm atmosphere of the party greatly

5.Which of the following proverbs can be used to conclude this passage.'?

A．A friend in need is a friend indeed.          B．Time reveals a person's heart.

C．Friends are like wine; the older, the better.    D．A faithful friend is hard to find.

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 elegant, 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.
Silent 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.
【小题1】GG moved in with her daughter because____.

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 elegant, 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.

Silent 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.

1.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

2.Why did GG become very emotional on a December afternoon?

A．Because she saw her great granddaughter’s doll.

B．Because she recalled her dead parents.

C．Because she was surrounded by her offspring.

D．Because she felt lonely during the Christmas season.

3.What can we infer from Paragraph 5? 

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.

4.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.

5.Why did Meagan’s mum feel proud of her daughter?

A．Because she was clever.                  B．Because she was loving.

C．Because she was sensitive.                D．Because she was imaginative.

6.The main idea of the passage is 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

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.
【小题1】GG moved in with her daughter because ______.