My Way to Success

From the day I signed up for the Naumburg Competition, everything changed. I had made a decision to start again, to save my life, and that meant a 360-degree turnaround.
I kept on practicing. An enormous amount of work had to be done in two months. I went from not practicing at all to thirteen hours a day.
I spent two weeks just playing scales. If I thought I sounded bad before, now I sounded worse than awful.
At the time I lived on 72nd Street, close to West End Avenue. I had an apartment with a window the size of a shoebox. I didn't do mylaundry. I left my apartment only to walk to Juilliard─and not onBroadway like everyone else. I walked up Amsterdam Avenue because I didn't want to see anybody, didn't want to run into anybody, didn't want anyone to ask what I was doing.
I stopped going to classes and became a hermit. I even talked Miss DeLay into giving my lesson at night.
My eating habits were awful. I lived on fried sausages, a pint of peanut butter/chocolate ice cream, and a gallon of Coca-Cola every day. That's all I ate for eight weeks.
I was nuts. I was completely obsessed with getting back into shape, with doing well in this competition. If I could, people would know I was still on earth. Not to count me out; to stop asking, “Whatever happened to Nadja?”
The last week before the Naumburg auditions, I couldn't touch the violin. I had worked and worked and worked and worked and then I just couldn't work anymore.
I certainly could have used it. I wasn't as prepared as I should have been. But I simply had to say, “Nadja, you've dedicated yourself to this thing. Ready or not, do your best.”
Fifty violinists from around the world auditioned for the competition on May 25, 26, and 27, 1981. Those that made it past thepreliminaries would go on to the semifinals. Those that passed that stage would go to the finals. In years past, one violinist was chosen as winner and two received second and third place.
On May 26, the day of my audition, I went to the Merkin Concert Hall at 67th Street and Broadway. I waited, played for twenty minutes, and went home. I couldn't tell whether the preliminary judges were impressed or not. I'd find out the next evening.
Maybe subconsciously I was trying to keep busy; that night, when I fried the sausages, I accidentally set my apartment on fire. I grabbed my cat and my violin, and ran out the door. The fire was put out, but everything in my place was wrecked.
Fortunately, the phone was okay and on the evening of May 27, I had the news from Lucy Rowan Mann of Naumburg. Thirteen of us had made it.
Talk about mixed emotions. I was thrilled to be among the thirteen; a group that included established violinists, some of whom had already made records. But it also meant I had to play the next day in the semifinals of the competition.
Everyone entering the competition had been given two lists of concertos. One was a list of standard repertory pieces. The other list was twentieth-century repertory. For our big competition piece, we were to choose from each list and play a movement from one in the semifinals, and a movement from the other in the finals─if we made it that far.
From the standard repertory list, I chose the Tchaikovsky Concerto. I had been playing the Tchaik for three years, so it was a good piece for me.
From the twentieth-century list, I chose the Prokofiev G minor Concerto. I had never played it onstage before.
My goal had been just passing the auditions, but now my thought pattern began to change. If I wanted a sliver of a chance of advancing again, my brain said, “Play your strong piece first.”
Logically, I should play the Tchaikovsky in the semifinals just to make it to the next stage. Who cared if that left me with a piece I probably wouldn't play as well in the finals of the competition? It'd be a miracle to get that far.
There wouldn't be more than seven violinists chosen for the final round, and if I were in the top seven of an international group, that was plenty good enough.
The semifinals were held on May 28 in Merkin Concert Hall. You were to play for thirty minutes: your big piece first, then the judges would ask to hear another.
There was a panel of eight judges. They had a piece of paper with my choices of the Tchaikovsky and the Prokofiev in front of them. “Which would you like to play?” they asked.
I said meekly, “Prokofiev.”
My brain and all the logic in the world had said, “Play your strong piece.” My heart said, “Go for it all. Play your weak piece now, save Tchaikovsky for the finals.”
Maybe I don't listen to logic so easily after all.
My good friend, the pianist Sandra Rivers, had been chosen as accompanist for the competition. She knew I was nervous. There had been a very short time to prepare; I was sure there'd be memory slips, that I'd blank out in the middle and the judges would throw me out. My hands were like ice.
The first eight measures of the Prokofiev don't have accompaniment. The violin starts the piece alone. So I started playing.
I got through the first movement and Sandra said later my face was as white as snow. She said I was so tense, I was beyond shaking. Just a solid brick.
It was the best I'd ever played it. No memory slips at all. Technically, musically, it was there.
I finished it thinking, “Have I sold my soul for this? Is the devil going to visit me at midnight? How come it went so well?”
I didn't know why, but often I do my best under the worst of circumstances. I don't know if it's guts or a determination not to disappoint people. Who knows what it is, but it came through for me, and I thank God for that.
As the first movement ended, the judges said, “Thank you.” Then they asked for the Carmen Fantasy.
I turned and asked Sandy for an A, to retune, and later she said the blood was just rushing back into my face.
I whispered, “Sandy, I made it. I did it.”
“Yeah,” she whispered back, kiddingly, “too bad you didn't screw up. Maybe next time.”
At that point I didn't care if I did make the finals because I had played the Prokofiev so well. I was so proud of myself for coming through.
I needed a shot in the arm; that afternoon I got evicted. While I was at Merkin, my moped had blown up. For my landlord, that was the last straw.
What good news. I was completely broke and didn't have the next month's rent anyway. The landlord wanted me out that day. I said, “Please, can I have two days. I might get into the finals, can I please go through this first?”
I talked him into it, and got back to my place in time for the phone call. “Congratulations, Nadja,”“they said. “You have made the finals.”
I had achieved the ridiculously unlikely, and I had saved my best piece. Yet part of me was sorry. I wanted it to be over already. In the three days from the preliminaries to the semifinals, I lost eight pounds. I was so tired of the pressure.
There was a fellow who advanced to the finals with me, an old, good friend since Pre-College. Competition against friends is inevitable in music, but I never saw competition push a friendship out the window so quickly. By the day of the finals, I hated him and he hated me. Pressure was that intense.
The finals were held on May 29 at Carnegie Hall and open to the public. I was the fourth violinist of the morning, then there was a lunch break, and three more violinists in the afternoon.
I played my Tchaikovsky, Saint-Sa‘ns’s Havanaise, and Ravel's Tzigane for the judges: managers, famous violinists, teachers, and critics. I went on stage at five past eleven and finished at noon. Those fifty-five minutes seemed like three days.
I was so relieved when I finished playing; I was finished! It's impossible to say how happy I was to see the dressing room. I went out for lunch with my friends. It was like coming back from the grave. We laughed and joked and watched TV.
As I returned to Carnegie Hall to hear the other violinists, I realized I'd made a big mistake: they might ask for recalls. A recall is when they can't decide between two people and they want you to play again. It's been done; it's done all the time in competitions. No way was I in shape to go onstage and play again.
In the late afternoon, the competition was over. Everybody had finished playing. Quite luckily─no recalls.
The judges deliberated for an hour. The tension in the air was unbelievable. All the violinists were sitting with their little circle of friends. I had my few friends around me, but no one was saying much now.
Finally, the Naumburg Foundation president Robert Mann came on stage.
“It's always so difficult to choose ...” he began.
“Every year we hold this competition,” Robert Mann said. “And in the past, we've awarded three prizes. This year we've elected to only have one prize, the first prize.”
My heart sank. Nothing for me. Not even Miss Congeniality.
“We have found,” Mann went on, “that second place usually brings great dismay to the artist because they feel like a loser. We don't want anyone here to feel like a loser. Every finalist will receive five hundred dollars except the winner, who will receive three thousand dollars.”
And then he repeated how difficult it was to choose, how well everyone had played ...dah, dah, dah.
I was looking down at the floor.  
“The winner is ...”
And he said my name.
A friend next to me said, “Nadja, I think you won!”
I went numb. My friends pulled me up and pointed me toward the stage. It was a long walk because I had slipped into a seat in the back. Sitting up in front was my old friend. I would have to walk right past him and I was dreading it, but before I could, he got up and stopped me.
He threw his arms around me and I threw my arms around him. I kept telling him how sorry I was. I was holding him and started to cry, saying, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” I didn't want to lose, but I really didn't want him to lose either. And he was holding me and saying, “Don't be sorry. I'm so proud of you.” It was over, and we would be friends again.
I took my bow, then ran to Juilliard. Ten blocks uptown, one block west, to give Miss DeLay the news. She could be proud of me now, too.
Suddenly, everything was clear. Playing the violin is what I'd do with my life. Heaven handed me a prize: “You've been through a lot, kid. Here's an international competition.”
Everything had changed when I prepared for the Naumburg, and now everything changed again. I made my first recording. Between September 1981 and May 1982, I played a hundred concerts in America, made one trip to Europe, then two months of summer festivals. And people asked me back.
There was a great deal of anxiety playing in Europe for the first time. But I was able to rely on my self-confidence to pull me through.
Self-confidence onstage doesn't mean a lack of nerves backstage. The stakes had increased. This wasn't practice anymore, this was my life. I'd stare into a dressing-room mirror and say, “Nadja, people have bought tickets, hired baby-sitters, you've got to calm down; go out there and prove yourself.”
Every night I'd prove myself again. My life work had truly begun

1. 1.

   In a gesture to prepare for the competition, Nadja did all the following except _________

   1. A.
      preoccupying herself in practice
   2. B.
      trying to carry out her deeds secretly
   3. C.
      abandoning going to school for classes
   4. D.
      consuming the best food to get enough energy
2. 2.

   How many violinists does the passage mention advanced to the finals?

   1. A.
      Four
   2. B.
      Five
   3. C.
      Six
   4. D.
      Seven
3. 3.

   After Nadja finished playing at the finals, she went out for a while and when she came back to hear the other violinists she realized she had made a mistake because _________

   1. A.
      she forgot that there was going to be a recall
   2. B.
      she didn’t get hold of the permission to leave
   3. C.
      chances were that she had to replay and she was off guard
   4. D.
      there was another play she had to take part in in the afternoon

I played a racquetball game against my cousin Ed last week. It was one of the most ___1___ and tiring games I’ve ever had. When Ed first phoned and ___2___ we play, I laughed quietly, figuring on an ___3___ victory. After all, Ed’s idea of ___4___ has always been nothing more ___5___ than lifting a fork to his mouth. ___6___ I can remember, Ed’s been the least physically fit member in the family, and ___7___ proud of himself. His big stomach has always ballooned out between his T-shirt and trousers. Although the family often ___8___ about that, Ed refused to buy a ___9___ T-shirt or to lose weight. So when Ed ___10___ for our game not only with the bottom of his shirt gathered inside his trousers but also with a stomach you could hardly ___11___, I was so surprised that I was ___12___. My cousin must have made an effort to get himself into shape. ___13___, at the point in our game when I’d have predicted(预计) the score to be about 9 to 1 in my favor, it was ___14___ 7 to 9 — and Ed was ___15___. The sudden realization was painful. We ___16___ to play like two mad men. When the score was 16 up, I was having serious ___17___ about staying alive until 21 years old, let alone ___18___ that many points. When the game finally ended, both of us were lying flat on our backs, too tired to ___19___. In a way, I think we both won: I the game, but cousin Ed my ___20___.

1. A. encouraging   B. hopeless     C. surprising   D. regular

2. A. declared B. mentioned  C. persuaded   D. suggested

3. A. unforgettable B. unexpected C. easy    D. early

4. A. exercise  B. preparation C. joy     D. fitness

5. A. time-saving   B. comfortable       C. suitable      D. effort-making

6. A. As soon as     B. As long as  C. When  D. Since

7. A. strangely       B. personally  C. reasonably  D. eagerly

8. A. cared     B. forgot C. quarreled    D. joked

9. A. clean      B. larger  C. straight      D. darker

10. A. set out  B. got ready    C. arrived       D. returned

11. A. notice   B. admire       C. believe       D. measure

12. A. nervous       B. curious       C. careless      D. speechless

13. A. After all      B. As a result  C. Above all   D. At last

14. A. mistakenly   B. then    C. instead       D. naturally

15. A. leading B. coming      C. waiting      D. counting

16. A. pretended    B. stopped      C. continued   D. decided

17. A. thoughts      B. doubts C. situations    D. problems

18. A. scoring B. completing C. receiving    D. keeping

19. A. play     B. start    C. sleep   D. move

20. A. friendship    B. respect       C. support      D. favor

I’m a 20-year-old boy, and the following is my story.

A month after I graduated from high school in August, 2007, I was coming home from swim practice in the training centre of the city and was involved in a car accident. I was so seriously injured that I was in a coma for more than two months at Prince Georges Hospital.

I suffered a lot from the experience of dying eight times during my coma and I couldn’t open my mouth to talk or to communicate when I eventually came around. At that time, it seemed that walking was never going to happen again due to all the extreme injuries. Just like my body, my dreams were completely destroyed. But I was not going to let my injuries stop me from realizing my dreams.

After receiving a total of 15 operations and 36 blood transfusions, I had to make every great effort to learn to talk, eat, walk, shower, and live on my own again. When I was out of hospital, I still had to go to outpatient therapy in Waldorf, Maryland. After I spent a few months in a wheelchair, I took baby steps to walk on my own. It was a miracle that I was able to walk again, but I still wanted to prove that I could not only walk, but also run. When it came true, I wanted to get back into the pool again. After having a few lung tests, I was able to go in the pool a little bit each week. After a few months of swim training, I began my freshman year at St. Mary’s College of Maryland and then became a proud member of the swim team.

By telling my story, I want to make a positive influence on the world. I am just trying to live each day to the fullest and inspire other people never to give up their dreams no matter how bad a situation is to them. I remember when I was still in my hospital bed, I would have my mom and dad push me round in my wheelchair to the other rooms to see the other patients and chat with them and their family members. I wanted to let them know that everything was going to be okay. Somehow, things would work out for the best.

The underlined word “coma” in Paragraph 2 probably has the meaning of “_______”.

   A. operation   B. unconsciousness    C. treatment   D. death

What is the correct order of the following events?

     a. went to outpatient therapy

     b. received membership of the swim team

     c. was pushed around to visit other patients

     d. walked like a baby

     e. learnt to live all by himself

   A. d、a、c、b、e                       B. e、c、d、a、b

   C. d、c、a、b、e                       D. e、c、a、d、b

The best title for the passage would be “_______”.

   A. Attitude（态度） is everything          B. Actions speak louder than words

   C. Everything happens for a reason         D. A good beginning is half done

Something roared like thunder. The earth shook a little and we heard the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire. "Father!" Hassan cried. We sprung to our feet and raced out of the living room.

"Father! What's that sound? Hassan screamed, his hands outstretched toward Ali. Ali wrapped his arms around us. A white light flashed and lit the sky in silver. It flashed again and was followed by rapid sharp sounds of gunfire. "They're hunting ducks." Ali said in a hoarse voice. "They hunt ducks at night, you know." Don't be afraid.

A siren(汽笛) went off in the distance. Somewhere glass broke and someone shouted. I heard people on the street, jolted from sleep and probably still in their pajamas, with ruffled hair and puffy eyes. Hassan was crying. Ali pulled him close, clutched him with tenderness.

We stayed huddled that way until the early hours of the morning. The shootings and explosions had lasted less than an hour, but they had frightened us badly, because none of us had ever heard gunshots in the streets. They were foreign sounds to us then. The generation of Afghan children whose ears would know nothing but the sounds of bombs and gunfire was not yet born. Huddled together in the dining room and waiting for the sun to rise, none of us had any notion that a way of life had ended. The end came when Russian tanks were rolling into the very same streets where Hassan and I played, bringing the death of the Afghanistan I knew and marking the start of a still ongoing era of bloodletting.

Just before sunrise, Baba's car peeled into the driveway. His door slammed shut and his running footsteps pounded the stairs. Then he appeared in the doorway and I saw something on his face. Something I didn't recognize right away because I'd never seen it before: fear. "Amir! Hassan!" He cried as he ran to us, opening his arms wide. "They blocked all the roads and the telephone didn't work. I was so worried!"

We let him wrap us in his arms and, for a brief moment, I was glad about whatever had happened that night.

1.Who is the author of the passage?

A. Hassan         B. Ali         C. Baba          D. Amir

2.By saying “they are hunting ducks”, Ali ___________.

A. told the children the truth

B. tried to calm the children

C. played a joke on the children

D. cheered the children up

3.We can infer from the passage that__________.

A. there were thunderstorms that night

B. Afghan children were used to the war

C. that night was the end of people’s peaceful life

D. people on the street shouted and broke the windows

4. From the last sentence of the passage, we know_________.

A. the author was glad to see his father come home safe

B. there was a chance that a world in peace was to come

C. what happened that night seemed nothing to the author

D. Baba’s arms gave the author temporary comfort and joy

Walking down a path through some woods in Georgia, I saw a small pool of water ahead on the path．I angled my direction to go around it on the part of the path that wasn't covered by water or mud．As I reached the pool, I was suddenly attacked! Yet I did nothing for the attack．It was so unpredictable and from somewhere totally unexpected．I was surprised as well as unhurt though I had been struck four or five times．I backed up a foot and my attacker stopped attacking me．Had I been hurt I wouldn't have found it amusing．And I was laughing．After all, I was being attacked by a butterfly!

    Having stopped, laughing, I took a step forward．My attacker rushed me again．He charged towards me at full speed, attempting to hurt me but in vain．For a second time, I took a step backwards while my attacker paused．I wasn't sure what to do．After all, it's just not everyday that one is attacked by a butterfly．I stepped back to look the situation over．My attacker moved back to land on the ground．That's when I discovered why my attacker was charging me only moments earlier．He had a mate and she was dying．

    Sitting close beside her, he opened and closed his wings as if to fan her．I could only admire the love and courage of that butterfly in his concern for his mate．He had taken it up on himself to attack me for his mate's sake （缘故）, even though she was clearly dying and I was so large．He did so just to give her those extra few precious moments of life, should I have been careless enough to step on her．His courage in attacking something thousands of times larger and heavier than himself just for his mate's safety seemed admirable．I couldn't do anything other than reward him by walking on the more difficult side of the pool．He had truly earned those moments to be with her, undisturbed．    

    Since then, I've always tried to remember the courage of that butterfly whenever I see huge barriers facing me.

1..

Why did the writer change his direction while walking down a path?

    A．To get close to a butterfly.         B．To look over the bad situation.

    C．To escape a sudden attack.           D．To avoid getting his shoes dirty.

2..

What made the man feel funny?

    A．Making the attacker pause.           B．Being attacked by a butterfly.

    C．Being stepped on by his mate.        D．Discovering the energetic butterfly.

3..

From this experience the man learned        .

    A．what he should do when faced with trouble

    B．people should show sympathy to the weak

    C．how he should deal with attacks

    D．people should protect butterflies

4..

Which of the following words can best describe the butterfly?

    A．Careless．      B．Amusing．         C.Courageous． D．Aggressive.