英语阅读理解美文材料

The remembrance of lilacs 紫丁香的回忆

The family had just moved to Rhode Island, and the young woman was feeling a little melancholy on that Sunday in May. After all, it was Mother's Day -- and 800 miles separated her from her parents in Ohio.

She had called her mother that morning to wish her a happy Mother's Day, and her mother had mentioned how colorful the yard was now that spring had arrived. As they talked, the younger woman could almost smell the tantalizing aroma of purple lilacs hanging on the big bush outside her parents' back door.

Later, when she mentioned to her husband how she missed those lilacs, he popped up from his chair. \and c'mon.\

So off they went, driving the country roads of northern Rhode Island on the kind of day only mid－May can produce: sparkling sunshine, unclouded azure skies and vibrant newness of the green growing all around. They went past small villages and burgeoning housing developments, past abandoned apple orchards, back to where trees and brush have devoured old homesteads.

Where they stopped，dense thickets of cedars and ju nipers and birch crowded the roadway on both sides. There wasn't a lilac bush in sight.

\，from somebody's farm of years ago, and there are lilacs all round it. The man who owns this land said I could poke around here anytime. I'm sure he won't mind if we pick a few lilacs.\ Before they got halfway up the hill, the fragrance of the lilacs drifted down to them, and the kids started running. Soon, the mother began running, too, until she reached the top.

There，far from view of passing motorists and hidden from encroaching civilization, were the towering lilacs bushes, so laden with the huge, cone-shaped flower clusters that they almost bent double. With a smile, the young woman rushed up to the nearest bush and buried her face in the flowers, drinking in the fragrance and the memories it recalled.

While the man examined the cellar hole and tried to explain to the children what the house must have looked like, the woman drifted among the lilacs. Carefully, she chose a sprig here, another one there, and clipped them with her husband's pocket knife. She was in no hurry, relishing each blossom as a rare and delicate treasure. Finally, though, they returned to their car for the trip home. While the kids chattered and the man drove, the woman sat smiling, surrounded by her flowers, a faraway look in her eyes.

When they were within three miles of home, she suddenly shouted to her husband, \

The man slammed on the brakes. Before he could ask her why she wanted to stop, the woman was out of the car and hurrying up a nearby grassy slope with the lilacs still in her arms. At the top of the hill was a nursing home and, because it was such a beautiful spring day, the patients were outdoors strolling with relatives or sitting on the porch.

The young woman went to the end of the porch, where an elderly patient was sitting in her wheelchair, alone, head bowed, her back to most of the others. Across the porch railing went the flowers, in to the lap of the old woman. She lifted her head, and smiled. For a few moments, the two women chatted, both aglow with happiness, and then the young woman turned and ran back to her family. As the car pulled away, the woman in the wheelchair waved, and clutched the lilacs.

\the kids asked, \was that? Why did you give her our flowers? Is she somebody's mother?\said she didn't know the old woman. But it was Mother's Day，and she seemed so alone，and who wouldn't be cheered by flowers? \，\away. That woman needed those flowers more than I did.\

This satisfied the kids, but not the husband. The next day he purchased half a dozen young lilacs bushes and planted them around their yard, and several times since then he has added more.

I was that man. The young mother was, and is, my wife. Now, every May, our own yard is redolent with lilacs. Every Mother's Day our kids gather purple bouquets. And every year I remember that smile on a lonely old woman's face, and the kindness that put the smile there.

一家人刚移居罗德岛。5月的那个星期天，年轻女人感到有点儿忧伤。毕竟，这一天是母亲节——而她却与俄亥俄州的父母亲遥距800英里。

她那天早上给母亲打去电话，祝母亲节日愉快。随后，她的母亲向她提起，因为春天已经来临，所以院子里的色彩是多么绚丽。在她们通话的当儿，年轻女人几乎可以闻到悬垂在父母亲后门外大灌木丛上的紫丁香醉人的芬芳。

后来，她向丈夫说起她是如何怀念那些紫丁香时，他突然从椅子上跃起。“我知道在哪儿能找到你想要的东西，”他说，“带上孩子，走吧。”

于是，他们就出发了，驱车行驶在罗德岛北部的乡村小路上，那种天气只有5月中旬才会有：闪亮的阳光、蔚蓝色的晴空以及生机勃勃、随处可见的绿意。他们穿过一座座小村庄和一座座拔地而起的房屋，穿过废弃的苹果园，来到了树林和灌木丛掩映的老农场。

他们停下车。车道两边长满了茂盛的雪松、杜松和白桦树。眼前没有一棵紫丁香。

“随我来，”那个男人说，“翻过那座小山，有个老地窖，几年前是一个人的农场，四周长满了紫丁香。这块地的主人说我可以随时到这儿来闲逛。我相信，要是我们采几束紫丁香，他不会介意。”

还没等他们到达半山腰，紫丁香的芬芳已经向他们飘了过来。于是，孩子们开始奔跑。不久，那位母亲也开始跑起来，直至到达山顶。

那里，远离了过往司机的视野，避开了纷扰的文明世界，高耸的丁香花丛开满了硕大的圆锥形的串串花束，几乎把花茎压成了两折。那个年轻女人微笑着冲到最近的一处花丛，把脸埋在鲜花中，啜饮着芳香，陶醉在重新唤起的记忆中。

在那个男人察看地窖试图向孩子们解释这座房子必定是什么样子的当儿，那个女人不由自主地走进了紫丁香花丛。她小心翼翼地从这儿摘一枝，那儿挑一束，然后用丈夫的袖珍小刀将它们剪下来。她不慌不忙，像欣赏稀有珍宝似地欣赏着每一朵花。 然而，他们终于还是返回了汽车，走上了回家的路。孩子们叽叽喳喳说个不停，那个男人驾着车，那个女人坐在那儿面带微笑，她周围放满了鲜花，眼睛里充满着向往。 当他们离家不足3英里时，她突然向丈夫大声喊道：“停车，就在这里停车！” 那个男人嘎地刹住车。还没等他问为什么，女人就已经下了车，匆匆走向附近的草坡，怀里仍抱着紫丁香。山顶上是一家疗养院，因为这是一个美丽的春日，所以病人正在室外和亲友溜达或坐在门廊上。

那个年轻女人走到门廊的尽头，只见那里有一个上了年纪的病人正坐在轮椅里，独自一人，低着头，背对着其他人。年轻女人越过门廊栏杆，将鲜花放在了老太太的膝间。老太太抬起头，露出了笑脸。两个女人聊了一会儿，都兴高采烈。随后,那个年轻女人转身跑回到家人的身边。当汽车开动时，坐在轮椅里的那个女人挥动着手，手里紧紧地握着那束紫丁香花。

“妈妈，”孩子们问，“那人是谁呀？你为什么把我们的花送给她？她是谁的母亲呀？”他们的母亲说，她不认识那个老太太，但今天是母亲节，她看起来是那么孤独，而鲜花会给任何人带来好心情。“再说，”她补充道，“我拥有你们，而且我还有自己的母亲，即使她离我很远。那个女人比我更需要那些鲜花。”

孩子们得到了满意的答案，但她的丈夫却没有。第二天，他买了半打紫丁香幼苗，栽到了院子四周；而且从那以后，每隔一段时间，他就会增加一些。

我就是那个男人，那个年轻母亲是我妻子。如今，每年5月，我们自家的院子都会散发出浓烈的紫丁香的芬芳。每逢母亲节，我们的孩子都要采撷紫丁香花束。而且每年我都会记起一位孤独的老太太脸上露出的笑容，以及笑容里呈现出的那种慈祥。

Cherish the rest of your life珍爱余生

What would you do if you only had a short time to live?

我们似乎每天都被琐事缠身，有忙不完的事情，以至于在忙忙碌碌之中迷失了自己，分辨不清什么才是生活中最重要的东西。停下来问问自己，如果你仅剩半年时光，你将如何处理生活的轻重缓急，你将如何度过？

It's hard, from within the storm of every day life, to see things with real perspective, to know what's important and what's simply pressing on our consciousness right now, demanding attention.

We have people emailing us for information and requesting action, we have phone calls and visitors and a long to-do list and a million chores and errands to run and all of the slings and arrows of our daily reality … and yet, what is important?

Ask yourself this: if you suddenly found out you only had 6 months to live (for whatever reason), would the thing in front of you matter to you?

Would those 20 emails waiting for a response matter? Would the paperwork waiting to be processed matter? Would the work you're doing matter? Would the meetings you're supposed to have matter? Would a big car and nice house and high-paying job and cool computer and mobile device and nice shoes and clothes matter? I'm not saying they wouldn’t matter … but it's important to ask yourself if they would. What would matter to you?

For many of us, it's the loved ones in our lives. If we don't have loved ones … maybe it's time we started figuring out why, and addressing that. Maybe we haven't made time for others, for getting out and meeting others and helping others and being compassionate and passionate about others. Maybe we have shut ourselves in somehow. Or maybe we do have loved ones in our lives, but we don’t seem to have the time we want to spend with them.

When was the last time you told your loved ones you loved them? Spent good quality time with them, being in the moment?

For many of us, doing work that matters … would matter. That might mean helping others, or making a vital contribution to society, or creating something brilliant and inspiring, or expressing ourselves somehow. It’s not the money that matters, but the impact of the work. Are you doing work that matters?

For many of us, experiencing life would matter — really being in the moment, finding passion in our lives, seeing the world and traveling, or just seeing the world that’s around us right now, being with great people, doing amazing things, eating amazing food, playing.

These are just a few ideas … but what would matter to you?

I highly recommend that you spend at least a little time now, and regularly, thinking about this question … figuring out what really matters … and living a life that shows this.

How do you live a life that puts a great emphasis on what matters? Start by figuring out what matters, and what doesn't. Then eliminate as much as you can of the stuff that doesn't matter, or at least minimize it to the extent possible. Make room for what does matter.

Make the time for what does matter … today. Put it on your schedule, and don't miss that appointment. Make those tough decisions — because choosing to live a life that is filled with the important stuff means making choices, and they’re not always easy choices. But it matters.

Spend time with your significant other, show them how important they are. Take the time to cuddle with your child, to read with her, to play with her, to have good conversations with her, to take walks with her. Take time to be in nature, to appreciate the beauty of the world around us. Take time to savor the little pleasures in life.

Because while you might not have only 6 months to live, I'm here to break the news to you: you really do only have a short time to live. Whether that's 6 months, 6 years or 60 … it's but the blink of an eye.

The life you have left is a gift. Cherish it. Enjoy it now, to the fullest. Do what matters, now.

学会接受这个世界，生活将更快乐

我们能让这世界变得更美好么？这句话本身就是一个错误的假设，认为这世界不好。反过来，我们应该说世界就是这样的，没有什么绝对的好与不好。这是我们选择的生活方式，也是我们喜欢的生活方式。换个角度看待事物：接受并试着理解。接受这世界，你会快乐。

“There is nothing either good or bad,but thinking makes it so.”—William Shakespeare, “Hamlet”

One of the greatest sources of unhappiness, in my experience, is the difficulty we have in accepting things as they are.

Without judgment, without wishing for otherwise.

When we see something we don't like, we wish it could be different — we cry out for something better. That may be human nature, or perhaps it's something that's ingrained in our culture.

The root of the unhappiness isn't necessarily that we want things to be different, however: it's that we decided we didn’t like it in the first place. We've judged it as bad, rather than saying, \

An example: In my recent post, A Beautiful Method to Find Peace of Mind, quite a few commenters thought my outlook was negative, pessimistic, or fatalistic … because I said you should expect people to mess up, expect things to go differently than you planned, and that you should embrace that.

It's too negative to expect things to go wrong, they said. However: it's only negative if you see it as negative. If you judge it as bad.

Instead, you could accept it as the way the world works — as the way things actually are. And try to understand why that is, and embrace it. As it is.

This can be applied to whatever you do: whether it be how other people act at work, how politics works and how depressing the news media can be. Accept these things as they are, and try to understand why they're that way.

It'll save you a lot of grief, because you'll no longer say, \suck!\

Does it mean you can never change things? Not at all. But change things not because you can't accept things as they are, but because you enjoy the process of change, of learning and growing.

Can we make this world a better place? Again, that's assuming that it's a bad place right now. But instead, you could say the world is just what it is — and that's neither good nor bad. You can say that you'll continue to try to do things to help others, to grow as a person, to make a difference in this world — not because you're such a bad person now, or the world sucks, but because that's the path you choose to take, because you enjoy that path.

As you catch yourself judging, and wishing for different — and we all do it — try a different approach: accept, and understand. It might lead to some interesting results.

A Gift from Heart来自内心的礼物[双语]

The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings. 世界上最难的算术题是如何清点我们的祝福。

According to legend, a young man while roaming the desert came across a spring of delicious crystal-clear water. The water was so sweet, he filled his leather canteen so he could bring some back to a tribal elder who had been his teacher.

据传说，一个年轻的男子在漫游沙漠途中看到一泉如水晶般清澈而可口的水。水的味道非常甜美，于是他灌满了他的皮水壶，这样就可以带一些回去，送给曾经是他老师的部落长老。

After a four-day journey he presented the water to the old man who took a deep drink, smiled warmly and thanked his student lavishly for the sweet water. The young man returned to his village with a happy heart.

经过四天的旅程，他把水呈献给老人。老人深饮一口，和蔼地笑了笑，并深切感激学生赠予他甜美的水。年轻人怀着愉快的心情回到了村庄。

Later, the teacher let another student taste the water. He spat it out, saying it was awful. It apparently had become stale because of the old leather container.

后来，老师让他的另一个学生品尝水。学生吐了出来，说水太难喝了。它显然已经因为陈旧的皮革容器而变得不再新鲜。

The student challenged his teacher: “Master, the water was foul. Why did you pretend to like it?”

学生质疑他的老师：“师父，水是臭的，你为什么要假装喜欢它？”

The teacher replied, “You only tasted the water. I tasted the gift. The water was simply the container for an act of loving-kindness and nothing could be sweeter.” 老师回答说，“你只品尝了水的味道，我却是在品尝礼物的味道。水仅仅是装载善与爱之行为的容器，而没有什么东西比善与爱更甜美了。”

I think we understand this lesson best when we receive innocent gifts of love from young children. Whether it’s a ceramic tray or a macaroni bracelet, the natural and proper response is appreciation and expressed thankfulness because we love the

idea within the gift.

我认为当我们从天真的孩子们那里收到爱的礼物时，能够最透彻地明白这个道理。无论它是一个陶瓷托盘或通心粉手镯，我们自然而恰当的反应是欣赏，并表示感激，因为我们喜欢礼物所包含的心意。

Gratitude doesn’t always come naturally. Unfortunately, most children and many adults value only the thing given rather than the feeling embodied in it. We should remind ourselves and teach our children about the beauty and purity of feelings and expressions of gratitude. After all, gifts from the heart are really gifts of the heart. 感恩并不总是自然而来的。不幸的是，大多数儿童和成人只看重被赠予的东西本身，而不是它体现的情谊。我们应该提醒自己，并教导我们的孩子，感情和对感激之情的表达是美丽而纯洁的。毕竟，发自内心给与的礼物才是真正的礼物。 英语单词：

roam [r??m] vi. 漫游，漫步；流浪 lavishly ['l?vi?li] adv. 丰富地；浪费地 stale [ste?l] adj. 陈腐的；不新鲜的 foul [fa?l] adj. 污秽的；淤塞的 ceramic [s?'r?m?k] n. 陶瓷

macaroni [,m?k?'r??n?] n. 通心粉 embody [?m'b?d?] vt. 体现，使具体化

母亲的双手[双语美文]

| 文章来源：网络 | 文章录入：随心飞扬 | 收集整理：嘉兴英语教学网 | 更新时间：2013-3-21 |

Night after night, she came to tuck me in, even long after my childhood years. Following her longstanding custom, she'd lean down and push my long hair out of the way, then kiss my forehead.

夜复一夜，她总是来帮我来盖被子，即使我早已长大。这是妈妈的长期习惯，她总是弯下身来，拨开我的长发，在我的额上一吻。

I don't remember when it first started annoying me —— her hands pushing my hair that way. But it did annoy me, for they felt work-worn and rough against my young skin. Finally, one night, I lashed out at her: \—— your hands are too rough!\She didn't say anything in reply. But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of her love. Lying awake long afterward, my words haunted me. But pride stifled my conscience, and I didn't tell her I was sorry.

我不记得从何时起，她拨开我的头发令我非常不耐烦。但的确，我讨厌她长期操劳、粗糙的手摩擦我细嫩的皮肤。最后，一天晚上，我冲她叫： “别再这样了——你的手太粗糙了!”她什么也没说。但妈妈再也没有象这样对我表达她的爱。直到很久以后，我还是常想起我的那些话。但自尊占了上风，我没有告诉她我很后悔。

Time after time, with the passing years, my thoughts returned to that night. By then I missed my mother's hands, missed her goodnight kiss upon my forehead. Sometimes the incident seemed very close, sometimes far away. But always it lurked, hauntingly, in the back of my mind.

时光流逝，我又想到那个晚上。那时我想念我妈妈的手，想念她晚上在我额上的一吻。有时这幕情景似乎很近，有时又似乎很遥远。但它总是潜伏着，时常浮现，出现在我意识中。

Well, the years have passed, and I'm not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid-seventies, and those hands I once thought to be so rough are still doing things for me and my family. She's been our doctor, reaching into a medicine cabinet for the remedy to calm a young girl's stomach or soothe a boy's scraped knee. She cooks the best fried chicken in the world…… gets stains out of blue jeans like I never could……and still insists on dishing out ice cream at any hour of the day or night. 一年年过去，我也不再是一个小女孩，妈妈也有70多岁了。那双我认为很粗糙的手依然为我和我家庭做着事。她是我家的医生，为我女儿在药橱里找胃药或在我儿子擦伤的膝盖上敷药。她能烧出世界上最美味的鸡…… 将牛仔裤弄干净而我却永远不能……而且可以在任何时候盛出冰激凌。

Through the years, my mother's hands have put in countless hours of toil, and most of hers were before automatic washers!

这么多年来，妈妈的手做了多少家务!而且在自动洗衣机出现以前她已经操劳了绝大多数时间。

Now, my own children are grown and gone. Mom no longer has Dad, and on special occasions, I find myself drawn next door to spend the night with her. So it was that late on Thanksgiving Eve, as I drifted into sleep in the bedroom of my youth, a familiar hand hesitantly stole across my face to brush the hair from my forehead. Then a kiss, ever so gently, touched my brow.

现在，我的孩子都已经长大，离开了家。爸爸去世了，有些时候，我睡在妈妈的隔壁房间。一次感恩节前夕的深夜，我睡在年轻时的卧室里，一只熟悉的手有些犹豫地、悄悄地略过我的脸，从我额头上拨开头发，然后一个吻，轻轻地印在我的眉毛上。 In my memory, for the thousandth time, I recalled the night my surly young voice complained: \do that anymore —— your hands are too rough!\Catching Mom's hand in hand, I blurted out how sorry I was for that night. I thought she'd remember, as I did. But Mom didn't know what I was talking about. She had forgotten —— and forgiven —— long ago.

在我的记忆中，无数次，想起那晚我粗暴、年青的声音：“别再这样了——你的手太粗糙了!”抓住妈妈的手，我冲口而出因为那晚，我是多么后悔。我以为她想起来了，象我一样。但妈妈不知道我在说些什么。她已经在很久以前就忘了这事，并早就原谅了我。

That night, I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother and her caring hands. And the guilt I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found.

那晚，我带着对温柔母亲和体贴双手的感激入睡。这许多年来我的负罪感已经消失无踪。

Life throws a brick at your head放慢你的脚步

| 文章来源：网络 | 文章录入：随心飞扬 | 收集整理：嘉兴英语教学网 | 更新时间：2012-11-1 |

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street， going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something.

一位年轻的总裁，以有点快的车速，开着他的新Jaguar经过住宅区的巷道。他必须小心游戏中的孩子突然跑到路中央，所以当他觉得小孩子快跑出来时，就要减慢车速。 As his car passed， one child appeared， and a brick smashed into the Jag's side door. He slammed on the brakes and spun the Jag back to the spot from where the brick had been thrown.

就在他的车经过一群小朋友的时候，一个小朋友丢了一块砖头打到了他的车门，他很生气的踩了煞车并后退到砖头丢出来的地方。

He jumped out of the car, grabbed some kid and pushed him up against a parked car， shouting， \you doing?\， he went on\you threw is gonna cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?\

他跳出车外，抓了那个小孩，把他顶在车门上说：“你为什么这样做，你知道你刚刚做了什么吗？” 接着又吼道：“你知不知道你要赔多少钱来修理这台新车，你到底为什么要这样做？”

“Please， mister， please， I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do!”pleaded the youngster.\It's my brother，\he said. \rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up.

小孩子求着说：“先生，对不起，我不知道我还能怎么办？” 他接着说：“因为我哥哥从轮椅上掉下来，我没办法把他抬回去。”

Sobbing， the boy asked the executive， \into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.\

那男孩啜泣着说：“你可以帮我把他抬回去吗？他受伤了，而且他太重了我抱不动。” Moved beyond words， the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts， checking to see that everything was going to be okay.

这些话让这位年轻的总裁深受感动，他抱起男孩受伤的哥哥，帮他坐回轮椅上。并拿出手帕擦拭他哥哥的伤口，以确定他哥哥没有什么大问题。

\， sir. And God bless you，\watched the little boy push his brother to the sidewalk toward their home.

那个小男孩感激地说：“谢谢你，先生，上帝保佑你。” 然后他看着男孩推着他哥哥回去。

It was a long walk backs to his Jaguar... a long， slow walk. He never did repair the side door. He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention.

年轻总裁返回Jaguar的路变的很漫长，他也没有修他汽车的侧门。他保留着车上的凹痕就是提醒自己。生活的道路不要走的太匆忙，否则需要其他人敲打自己来注意生活的真谛。

Life whispers in your soul and speaks to your heart. Sometimes,when you don't have the time to listen,it's your choice: Listen to the whispers of your soul or wait for the brick!

当生命想与你的心灵窃窃私语时，若你没有时间，你有两种选择：倾听你心灵的声音或让砖头来砸你！

Do you sometimes ignore loved ones because your life is too fast and busy leaving them to wonder whether you really love them?

请问你是否曾因为生活太快、太忙碌而忽略了你所爱的人，然后让他们开始开始怀疑起你是不是真的爱他们呢？

Roses in December十二月的玫瑰

| 文章来源：英语点津 | 文章录入：随心飞扬 | 收集整理：嘉兴英语教学网 | 更新时间：2012-7-26

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《小飞侠彼得?潘》的作者巴里曾写道：“上帝给了我们记忆，所以我们在寒冷的十二月也有玫瑰。”一段段美好而难忘的记忆，就像一朵朵玫瑰，装点着我们心灵的花园。

By Herb Appenzeller, Ed.D.

Coaches more times than not use their hearts instead of their heads to make tough decisions. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case when I realized we had a baseball conference game scheduled when our seniors would be in Washington, D.C. for the annual senior field trip. We were a team dominated by seniors, and for the first time in many years, we were in the conference race for first place. I knew we couldn’t win without our seniors, so I called the rival coach and asked to reschedule the game when everyone was available to play.

“No way,” he replied. The seniors were crushed and offered to skip the much-awaited traditional trip. I assured them they needed to go on the trip as part of their educational experience, though I really wanted to accept their offer and win and go on to the conference championship. But I did not, and on that fateful Tuesday, I wished they were there to play.

I had nine underclass players eager and excited that they finally had a chance to play. The most excited player was a young mentally challenged boy we will call Billy. Billy

was, I believe, overage, but because he loved sports so much, an understanding principal had given him permission to be on the football and baseball teams. Billy lived and breathed sports and now he would finally get his chance to play. I think his happiness captured the imagination of the eight other substitute players. Billy was very small in size, but he had a big heart and had earned the respect of his teammates with his effort and enthusiasm. He was a left-handed hitter and had good baseball skills. His favorite pastime, except for the time he practiced sports, was to sit with the men at a local rural store talking about sports. On this day, I began to feel that a loss might even be worth Billy’s chance to play.

Our opponents jumped off to a four-run lead early in the game, just as expected. Somehow we came back to within one run, and that was the situation when we went to bat in the bottom of the ninth. I was pleased with our team’s effort and the constant grin on Billy’s face. If only we could win..., I thought, but that’s asking too much. If we lose by one run, it will be a victory in itself. The weakest part of our lineup was scheduled to hit, and the opposing coach put his ace pitcher in to seal the victory. To our surprise, with two outs, a batter walked, and the tying run was on first base. Our next hitter was Billy. The crowd cheered as if this were the final inning of the conference championship, and Billy waved jubilantly. I knew he would be unable to hit this pitcher, but what a day it had been for all of us. Strike one. Strike two. A fastball. Billy hit it down the middle over the right fielder’s head for a triple to tie the score. Billy was beside himself, and the crowd went wild.

Ben, our next hitter, however, hadn’t hit the ball even once in batting practice or intrasquad games. I knew there was absolutely no way for the impossible dream to continue. Besides, our opponents had the top of their lineup if we went into overtime. It was a crazy situation and one that needed reckless strategy.

I called a time-out, and everyone seemed confused when I walked to third base and whispered something to Billy. As expected, Ben swung on the first two pitches, not coming close to either. When the catcher threw the ball back to the pitcher Billy broke from third base sprinting as hard as he could. The pitcher didn’t see him break, and when he did he whirled around wildly and fired the ball home. Billy dove in head first, beat the throw, and scored the winning run. This was not the World Series, but don’t tell that to anyone present that day. Tears were shed as Billy, the hero, was lifted on the shoulders of all eight team members.

If you go through town today, forty-two years later, you’ll likely see Billy at that same country store relating to an admiring group the story of the day he won the game that no one expected to win. Of all the spectacular events in my sports career, this memory is the highlight. It exemplified what sports can do for people, and Billy’s great day proved that to everyone who saw the game.

J. M. Barrie, the playwright, may have said it best when he wrote, “God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” Billy gave all of us a rose garden.

Get married in an Irish way像爱尔兰人一样结婚吧

| 文章来源：英语点津 | 文章录入：随心飞扬 | 收集整理：嘉兴英语教学网 | 更新时间：2012-7-26

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希望世间男女，都能像爱尔兰人一样去结婚，好好地谨慎地相爱，并选择百年的期限来用心地守护身边的那个人。

When I was having a chit-chat with my colleague, she asked me all of a sudden, “How did your husband propose to you at that time? Was it romantic?” I was numbed by her words for a while, and then burst into laughter, “My husband is a bit rigid, so do you think his proposal would be romantic?” Though I said in that way, I felt very sweet in heart when thinking of my husband’s proposing to me. To be honest, his proposal was actually by no means romantic without flowers, diamond ring and any other surprise. It was even could not be called “marriage proposal”.

At that time, he gave me a book about Ireland, which, now I am thinking was a long-established plan. At the weekend when I finished the book, he came to me and asked me whether I had finished the book. Seeing me nod my head, he felt very pleased and said to me in a low but happy voice, “If you like, we can get married in an Irish way!”

At that time, my heart was totally convinced by the romantic and sacred law of marriage in Ireland. The book told me that Ireland believes in Catholicism and prohibited divorce. Therefore, when a couple get married, they are supposed to choose the time of their marriage which ranges from 1 year to 100 years. The most impressive of this law of marriage lies in the inverse relationship between the time of marriage and the fees to be charged. If you choose 1 year for your marriage, you shall pay as much as 2, 000 sterling pounds plus receiving a dictionary-thick reference of rights and responsibilities. But if you choose 100 years, then you are very lucky and only need to pay 0.5 pound for the fees and receive a short but heart-touching note in all women’s eyes: “I have no idea the clear rights and responsibilities for my left hand to my right hand, my right leg to my left leg, my left eye to my right eye and my right sphere of brain to the left. Actually, they are an integrated whole and live by each other and cheer for each other. Finally, I would like this pink note to convey my best wishes to your one-hundred-year marriage! May you live happily all your lives!”

I still remember at that time that I said to my husband, “Ok, so sir, please choose the time you expect our marriage to last!” He said happily, “I even do not bother to think about it and would definitely choose 100 years because it is highly money-saving!” Later, I married him, a man who would like to stay with me for 100 years. Although we are not bound by the law of marriage in Ireland, we have cherished our vow to discipline ourselves all the time. We have married like Irish people and look on our marriage as a life-long commitment and spare no effort to nourish it hand in hand as we are gradually aging together.

I also sincerely hope that every pair of lovers in the world can get married like Irish people and love and protect each other whole-heartedly by committing themselves to a 100-year marriage.

The last jar of jelly最后一罐果子冻

| 文章来源：英语点津 | 文章录入：随心飞扬 | 收集整理：嘉兴英语教学网 | 更新时间：2012-7-26

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那些潜移默化地影响我们生活的人，当我们某天无意之间发现他们留下的东西已日渐稀少，才恍然意识到人已远去……

By Andy Skidmore

Our children grew up on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Even my husband and I sometimes sneak one in late at night with a glass of milk. I believe that the Earl of Sandwich himself would agree with me that the success of this universally loved concoction lies not in the brand of peanut butter used, but rather in the jelly. The right jelly delights the palate, and homemade is the only choice.

I wasn't the jelly maker in this family. My mother-in-law was. She didn't provide a wide range of flavors, either. It was either grape or blackberry. This limited choice was a welcome relief in the days of toddlers, siblings and puppies. When all around me other decisions and choices had to be made, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches was easy. And since we liked both flavors, we usually picked whatever jar was at the front of the pantry or refrigerator.

The only contribution I made to the jelly making was to save baby food jars, which my mother-in-law would fill with the tasty gel, seal with wax and send back home with us. For the past 22 years of my married life, whenever I wanted to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for myself or my husband or one of the children, all I had to do was reach for one of those little jars of jelly. It was always there. Jelly making was just a

way of life for my mother-in-law. She always did it, following the same rituals - from picking the fruit to setting the finished jelly on the homemade shelves in her little pantry off the kitchen.

My father-in-law died several years ago and this past December, my mother-in-law also passed away. Among the things in the house to be divided by her children were the remaining canned goods in the pantry. Each of her children chose from the many jars of tomato juice, green beans and jelly. When my husband brought his jars home, we carefully put them away in our pantry.

The other day I reached in there to retrieve jelly for a quick sandwich, and there it was. Sitting all alone on the far side of the shelf was a small jar of grape jelly. The lid was somewhat rusty in places. Written on it with a black marker was \and the year the jelly had been made.

As I picked up the jar, I suddenly realized something that I had failed to see earlier. I reopened the pantry door to be sure. Yes, this was it, this was the last jar of \we would ever have from the patient, loving hands of my mother-in-law. Although she had been gone for nearly a year, so much of her had remained with us. We hardly ever opened a jar of jelly at the breakfast table without kidding about those thousands of little jars she had filled. Our children had never known a day without their grandmother's jelly. It seems like such a small thing, and most days it was something that was taken for granted. But today it seemed a great treasure. Holding that last jar in my hand, my heart traveled back to meeting my mother-in-law for the first time. I could see her crying on our wedding day, and later, kissing and loving our children as if she didn't have five other grandchildren. I could see her walking the fields of the farm, patiently waiting while others tended to the cows. I could see her walking in the woods or riding the hay wagon behind the tractor. I saw her face as it looked when we surprised her by meeting her at church. I saw her caring for a sick spouse and surrounded by loving children at the funeral.

I put the jelly back on the shelf. No longer was it just a jar of jelly. It was the end of a family tradition. I guess I believed that as long as it was there, a part of my mother-in-law would always live on.

We have many things that once belonged to my husband's parents. There are guns, tools, handmade sweaters and throws, and some furniture. We have hundreds of pictures and many more memories. These are the kinds of things that you expect to survive the years and to pass on to your children. But I'm just not ready to give up this last jelly jar, and all the memories its mere presence allows me to hold onto. The jar of jelly won't keep that long. It will either have to be eaten or thrown out...but not today.

A doll from Santa送给爱丽丝妈妈的圣诞礼物

| 文章来源：英语点津 | 文章录入：随心飞扬 | 收集整理：嘉兴英语教学网 | 更新时间：2012-7-26

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别忘了，母亲和你一样，也有个动听的名字，她曾经也是需要关爱的小女孩，也喜欢可爱的玩具。尽管已经等待了57年，但这份迟来的圣诞礼物永远不会太迟。

By Alice Ferguson

Alice's mother died when she was five years old. Although her nine brother and sisters were loving and caring, they were no replacement for a mother's love. The year was 1925, and life was hard. Alice, who grew up to be my mother, told me that her family was too poor to even afford to give her a doll.

In the aftermath of her loss, Alice vowed to care for others. First, her father, then her husband, later her three children and then her grandchildren were the main focus of her life. She felt that she could make up for her sad childhood through her dedication to her own family, but an unfilled void seemed to remain.

In December 1982, I had a job at a local bank. One afternoon, we were decorating the tree in the bank lobby and singing carols, getting ready for the Christmas season. One of my customers approached me with a sample of her handiwork: beautiful handmade dolls. She was taking orders for Christmas. I decided to get one for my daughter, Katie, who was almost five years old. Then I had an idea. I asked my customer if she could make me a special doll for my mother - one with gray hair and spectacles: a grandmother doll.

The doll maker felt that this idea was certainly unique and took it on as a creative challenge. So I placed my Christmas order: two dolls, one blonde and one gray-haired for Christmas morning!

Things really started to fall into place when a friend had told me that his dad - who played Santa Claus at various charitable functions in my area - would be willing to make a visit on Christmas morning to our home to deliver my Katie her presents! Knowing that my parents would be there as well, I began to get ready for what would turn out to be one of the most memorable days of my mother's life.

Christmas Day arrived and at the planned time, so did Santa Claus. I had prepared the presents for Santa to deliver, along with one for my mother tucked into the bottom of Santa's bag. Katie was surprised and elated that Santa had come to see her at her own house, the happiest I had ever seen her in her young life.

My mother was enjoying watching her granddaughter's reaction to the visit from this special guest. As Santa turned to leave he looked once more into his knapsack and retrieved one more gift. As he asked who Alice was, my mother, taken aback by her name being called, indicated that she in fact was Alice. Santa handed her the gift, which was accompanied by a message card that read: For Alice:

I was cleaning out my sleigh before my trip this year and came across this package that was supposed to be delivered on December 25, 1925. The present inside has aged, but I felt that you might still wish to have it. Many apologies for the lateness of the gift. Love, Santa Claus

My mother's reaction was one of the most profound and deeply emotional scenes I have ever witnessed. She couldn't speak but only clasped the doll she had waited fifty-seven years to receive as tears of joy coursed down her cheeks. That doll, given by \

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