阅读下列短文，从每题所给的四个选项A、B、C、D中，选出最佳选项。

　　He looked like a pirate．

　　With his handkerchief tied in a knot behind his little nine-year-old head, he looked like a pirate, a sad pirate．The first time little David came to our camp, he was hairless and worn out from medical treatments．He was also very angry．

　　Paul Newman's camp counselors(指导老师)were hoping to fill David's days with fun and laughter．But David stayed inside himself, wanting to be alone, or in a corner of the cabin．At this camp for children with life-threatening illnesses, we had seen some pretty tough children worn out by cancer recover full of energy despite their illness．But we saw little progress in David no matter what we tried with him．Five days into the eight-day session saw a quiet, sad little pirate．

　　Then something happened on that fifth night．Something at camp that we would call "huge"．

　　It was cabin night．That's the time when campers and counselors spend lime together in each individual cabin instead of an all-camp activity．Campers love cabin nights because there's always a bedtime snack．On the cabin table that night were bags of potato chips．

　　David slowly walked over to the table, leaving his comer to join the rest of us．He took one of the bags of the potato chips and started smashing(弄碎)it with his little fists, as all the other campers looked on in disbelief, I wondered what the cabin counselor would do．

　　The college-age volunteer counselor positioned a bag of chips on die table in front of himself, and he, too, started smashing it with his fist．The campers went crazy as everyone ran to the table to get in on the fun of smashing potato chips with their fists．

　　Somehow everyone knew, everyone sensed, that anger within him was now being released．

　　For the last couple days of the session, David was a different kid．He was a little nine-year-old boy again, trying to fill the hours of each remaining day at camp with as much fun as could be possible．

　　Several days after the session, David came back again．This time, there wasn't anything he wouldn't try to fit in to his day．He sure was having a great time at camp．David asked me if I needed an altar(祭坛)boy when I celebrated Mass in the woods．Sure enough, he was my altar boy．I remembered how carefully he listened to me when I talked about death．1 said it's only a doorway．You walk through the door and there's the Lord God and behind God a whole line of people waiting to hug you．

　　After Mass, he said to me, "Hey Fatha, a door, huh? "

　　A couple more days of fun passed and tonight was the talent show．The tradition is that campers and counselors dress up in costumes, and everyone gets a standing applause for singing and dancing or simply just acting like fools on stage．

　　The show had begun：lights, camera, action．

　　Unfortunately, the only action taking place in our row of seats was little David making his way from counselor to counselor to say an early good-bye to camp．He had become quite ill and had to go to the hospital because of this new crisis．

　　When this little nine-year-old pirate stood in front of me, he gave me a hug and a big wet kiss on my cheek．1 was crying．He was crying．A whole row of counselors was in tears．After the hug and kiss, he put his hands on my shoulders, and tears still in his eyes, said："See you on the other side of the door, Fatha．"

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阅读理解

　　When I was quite young, I discovered that somewhere inside the telephone lived an amazing person－"Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know．

　　One day while my mother was out, I hit my finger with a hammer．The pain was terrible, but there was no one home to give me any sympathy．I walked around the house, finally arriving at the telephone! Quickly, I called “Information Please" and told her what happened．She told me to open the icebox and hold a little piece of ice to my finger．

　　After that, I called "Information Please" for everything．When my pet bird died, I told "Information Please" the sad story．She tried to comfort me, she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in．" Somehow I felt better．Another day I was on the telephone, “How do you spell ‘grateful’? "．All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest．When I was 9, we moved to Boston．

　　A few years later, on my way to college, my plane put down in Seattle．I had about half an hour or so between planes．Without thinking, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information, please．"

　　Surprisingly, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information．" I hadn't planned on this but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell ‘grateful’?"

　　There was a long pause．Then came the soft-spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now．" I laughed．"So it's really still you," I said, "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time．" I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and asked if I could call her again．"Please do," she said, "Just ask for Sally．"

　　Three months later I was back in Seattle．A different voice answered me．I was told that Sally passed away five weeks before．

　　Before I could hang up she told me that Sally left a message for me－“Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in．He'll know what I mean．” I thanked her and hung up．I knew what Sally meant．

　　Never underestimate the impression you may make on others．Whose life have you touched today?

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