ÌâÄ¿ÄÚÈÝ

Æß¡¢ÊéÃæ±í´ï£¨±¾ÌâÓÐ1СÌ⣬¹²¼Æ20·Ö£©

»òÐíÄãÒѾ­¹Û¿´£¬Ìý˵¹ýÁËÀʶÁÕߣ¨readers£©£¬ËüÊǽü¶þ¸öÔÂÀ´±È½ÏÊÜ»¶Ó­µÄµçÊÓ½ÚÄ¿£¬¸Ã½ÚĿͬʱҲÔÚ¸÷´ó³ÇÊÐÍÆ³öÆä»î¶¯(offlineevent) ----¡°ÀʶÁͤ¡±¡£½ÚÄ¿ÑûÇëÁ˸÷Ðи÷ÒµµÄÈËÃÇÀ´´óÉùÀʶÁ£¬Ëµ³öËûÃÇÐÄÖеĹÊʲ¢±í´ïËûÃǵÄÇé¸Ð

Different

People

different

opinions

ÀʶÁÊÇѧÉúʱ´úµÄÊÂÇ飬»òÕß˵ÊÇС²¿·Ö¶ÔÀʶÁ¸ÐÐËȤÈ˵ÄÊÂÇé

ÀʶÁÊÇÊôÓÚÿһ¸öÈ˵ģ¬ÀʶÁ²»µ«ÊÇÒ»ÖÖѧϰ·½·¨£¬¸ü¶àʱºòÒ²ÊÇÒ»ÖÖ´«²¥Ë¼ÏëÓëÇé¸ÐµÄÒ»ÖÖÊÖ¶Î

Your

opinion

¡­

¡­

×¢Ò⣺£¨1£©¶ÌÎÄÄÚÈÝ¿ÉÊʵ±Ôö¼õ¼Ó¡£

£¨2£©ÎÄÖв»ÄܳöÏÖÕæÊµµÄÈËÃûºÍУÃû¡£

£¨3£©´ÊÊý80¡ª100.

£¨4£©¶ÌÎÄÊ×¾ä½ö¹©²Î¿¼£¬²»¼ÆÈë×Ü´ÊÊý¡£

Perhaps you¡¯ve already watched or heard about Readers. __________________________

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Á·Ï°²áϵÁдð°¸
Ïà¹ØÌâÄ¿

Every year on my birthday, from the time I turned 12, a white gardenia (èÙ×Ó»¨) was delivered to my house. No card or note came with it. I was delighted by the beauty and perfume (Ïãζ) of the flower. But I never stopped imagining who the giver might be. My mother helped me to imagine. She¡¯d ask me if I had been kind to someone. Perhaps the neighbor I¡¯d helped carry the groceries for. As a teenager, though, I had more fun thinking that it might be a boy I loved.

When I was 17, a boy broke my heart. The night he called for me the last time, I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, there was a message on my mirror in red lipstick: ¡°Heartily know, / when half-gods go, / the gods arrive.¡± I thought about those words from Emerson for a long time. When I finally went to get the glass cleaner, my mother knew everything was all right again. She did understand me.

One month before my high-school graduation, my father died of a heart attack. I lost all my interest in graduation, the senior-class play and the prom (±ÏÒµÎè»á). But my mother would not hear of my skipping (ÂÔ¹ý) any of those things. She wanted her children to feel loved and lovable, imaginative, believing that there was a magic in the world and beauty in the face of hard times. Actually she wanted her children to see themselves much like the gardenia ¨C loveable, strong and perfect. My mother died 10 days after I was married. I was 22. That was the year the gardenias stopped coming.

1.After the writer turned 12, she began to receive_____ on her birthday every year.

A. a birthday card B. a birthday cake C. a white gardenia D. a beautiful book

2.When the writer was 17, _____ .

A. her father died of a heart attack B. she lost her mother

C. a boy sent her some flowers D. a boy broke up with her

3.What do we know from the story?

A. The writer didn¡¯t like the white gardenia. B. The writer¡¯s father didn¡¯t love her.

C. The writer¡¯s mother was very wise. D. The writer sent a gardenia to her mother every year.

4.Finally, the writer found that _____ was the flower giver.

A. her father B. her mother

C. the neighbor she lent a hand to D. a boy she fell in love with

5.Which do you think is the best title?

A. Life without Father B. High school graduation

C. Mystery of the white gardenia D. A girl¡¯s growing pain

Î¥·¨ºÍ²»Á¼ÐÅÏ¢¾Ù±¨µç»°£º027-86699610 ¾Ù±¨ÓÊÏ䣺58377363@163.com

¾«Ó¢¼Ò½ÌÍø