It’s easy to see how to help others, but what about those whose needs aren’t so obvious? This story may have happened a while back, but it was a lesson which has stayed with me and helped me ever since.
It was Thanksgiving and I was volunteering with my parents at a shelter for the poor. We stood behind the counter dishing out hot food to whoever came in. Most of our dinners looked like they had been having hard times, their clothes old, worn and dry. In short, they looked poor!
Then, a man came in, who looked anything but poor. He was well dressed, wearing an expensive suit. I wondered what he was doing there and my jaw dropped in amazement when he joined the line for food. The closer he came to my service station, the more I muttered(咕哝着). What was this man doing? I wanted to know. Surely he wasn’t going to take food.
Then my mother quietly took me to one side. She said, “You have assumed that the needs of the people who come here must be purely physical: hunger, no enough shelter and needs are excitable? What if he needs comfort, friends, or just to be among other human beings?” Her words hit me like a ton of bricks! I felt like I should apologize to the man, but I didn’t.
About a week later the shelter received a large donation from an anonymous(匿名的) source. I can’t help but wonder if it came from that man.
Now, whether I meet others, I remember my mother’s words and try to send kindness and blessings to them, regardless of how they look.
Needs aren’t always visible. But kindness always makes a difference.
【小题1】The task of the author at the shelter was to_______.

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 ______.

I became a gardener when I was twelve. My early   36  of gardening may not have originated from my love for nature. It was to   37  my parents.
At that time, we had a big yard in which a beautiful maple tree stood. But my mother often looked with  38  at this work of natural art. Those golden leaves seemed like tons of rubbish to her, “something else to   39  !”Seeing the neighbors busy with gardening, my father even thought it a waste of time.
At that age, I always did something   40   to whatever my parents did!If gardening were something they found  41  , I would plant a garden!
I planted some lily(百合花)seeds in the yard. But they failed to   42 . I continued to plant sunflower seeds and roses. Wild  43 joy, I found the first rose bloom(开花). One by one, the flowers bloomed their heads off. 44  , I was touched by this land of wonder.
  45 , my parents showed no interest in my garden. My father even   46  at me because he found it was  47  to move around my garden to the driveway. To my mother’s   48  , I put in her vase my real roses which, in her eyes, were simply weeds 49  flowers.
Regardless of their   50  , I kept on planting my garden and  51 to enjoy the pleasure of gardening. Plants make such good companions: they breathe, they bloom, they   52  to care and love.
It has been many years since I made my first garden out of my desire to  53  my parents. Today I become known as Mrs. Greenthumbs, teaching gardening and hosting a gardening show, which makes my parents feel very   54  . And now I could say it is my affection for  55   that makes me a real gardener.

We were standing at the top of a church tower. My father had brought me to this spot in a small town not far from our home in Rome. I wondered why.
“Look down, Elsa,” father said. I gathered all my courage and looked down. I saw the square in the center of the village. And I saw the crisscross (十字形) of twisting, turning streets leading to the square. “See, my dear,” father said gently. “There is more than one way to the square. Life is like that. If you can’t get to the place where you want to go by one road, try another.”
Now I understood why I was there. Earlier that day I had begged my mother to do something about the awful(糟糕的) lunches that were served at school. But she refused because she could not believe the lunches were as bad as I said.
When I turned to father for help, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he brought me to this high tower to give me a lesson. By the time we reached home, I had a plan.
At school the next day, I secretly poured my luncheon（午餐）soup into a bottle and brought it home. Then I asked our cook to serve it to mother at dinner. The plan worked perfectly. She swallowed one spoonful and sputtered（喷溅出）” The cook must have gone mad！” Quickly I told her what I had done, and Mother stated firmly that she would take up the matter of lunches at school the next day!
In the years that followed I often remembered the lesson father taught me. I began to work as a fashion designer two years ago. I wouldn’t stop working until I tried every possible means to my goal. Father’s wise words always remind me that there is more than one way to the square.
【小题1】The author’s father took her to the top of a church tower to _____. 

Ibrahim became disabled after contracting polio (小儿麻痹症) when he was three years old. At first his parents, like many other parents of disabled children in Niger, did not want to send him to school. They were worried he would be laughed at by his classmates.  
Despite his disability, and his parents’ doubts, Ibrahim was determined to go to school. “When I was eight,” Ibrahim says, “other kids of my age were going to school while I stayed at home. I did not like that. So, I pestered (缠着) my parents until they finally let me go to school.”
Ibrahim’s parents sent him to a private school nearby. Although the journey to and from school was a short one, it still wasn’t easy for Ibrahim. He had to use his hands to help him move along, protecting them with plastic slippers. But at least he was getting an education.
However, after only a year in school, Ibrahim’s education was interrupted when his parents separated. His mother did not have the means to continue paying for his tuition.
In 2007, Ibrahim received some money to be fitted with a leg brace (支架), corrective shoes and his first pair of crutches (拐杖). Now that he was more mobile than before, the most important thing for him was to find a way to go back to school. 
“I wanted to start school again last October,” Ibrahim says. “After my mother told me she could not afford it, I went to visit some of my relatives for support. And I collected 5,000 francs CFA (US $8) to pay my tuition for half a year. I will find the rest of the money somehow.”
Ibrahim attends a school in which he is the only disabled student. According to his teacher, he is among the top five students in a class of 55.
【小题1】 Why did Ibrahim’s parents prefer Ibrahim to stay at home? 

A．There was a lot of housework for him to do.

B．They had no money to pay for his tuition.

C．There were not enough schools in the country.

D．They were afraid the students would make fun of him.

A．parents’ doubts

B．lack of tuition

C． physical disability

D．terrible mood