My father is a classic music fan.He has bought hundreds of classic music CDs.（) however, he has changed his taste.He listens to Jazz piano every evening.

A.father

B.mother

C.brother

but I thought I hated her.In her first class, she asked us to write a piece about an influencial person, place or memory. I chose to write my lake house, a topic I had already written about and received a vast amount of praise for. Put simply, it was the place that my parents met and fell in love.This teacher knew about my original piece and she was not happy. Throught the school year,we would pass each other in the hall, never saying a word to each other.It was not until February of 2012 that we spoke at the most unusual of places, my father’s funeral. At first, I was angry that she showed up. Did she even care？ She didn’t even know him! I stood, watching her give a deep bow to my father’s coffin, completely confused!It was not until she approached me that I realized she was crying even harder than I was.“Kali,” she said, “I am so sorry. My own father passed away just three weeks ago, and I completely feel your pain.” I was shocked. I understood that she had also lost her father, but I didn’t see the connection between us just yet. She had rejected my writing. That was not something that I was willing to so early forgive.A couple of weeks later, she went into my study hall and placed an envelope on my desk.In the letter, she told me her father, also had cancer, also passed away in six months’ time and he was her best friend too. It was not just this letter, but this act of kindness that taught me my,greatest life lesson. Losing has taught us both how to appreciate life. For that lesson, I am always grateful.

39. Why did the author hate Mrs. Geurin at first？

A. Mrs. Geurin said somethig bad about the author’s father.

B. Mrs. Geurin gave the author a hard topic to write about.

C. Mrs. Geurin didn’t appreciate the author’s writing.

D. Mrs. Geurin didn’t like the author’s lake house.

40. Hearing what Mrs. Geurin said at the funeral, the author _____.

A. was grateful to her

B. still didn’t forgive her

C. felt ashamed of herself

D. found they had a lot in common

41. What changed the relationship between Mrs. Geurin and the author？

A. Her apology to the author.

B. Her visit to the lake house.

C. Both losing a good friend

D. A similar sad experience

42. What’s best title for the text？

A. My first teacher

B. My beloved father

C. Seeking common ground

D. Breaking down the emotional barrier

were Jewish. The landlord, the doctor, the grocer, your best friend, the village idiot, the neighborhood bully: all Jewish. We were working class and immigrants as well, but that just came with the territory. Essentially we were Jews on the streets of New York. We learned to be kind, cruel, smart and feeling in a mixture of language and gesture that was part street slang, part grade-school English, part kitchen Yiddish.

One Sunday evening when I was eight years old my parents and I were riding in the back seat of my rich uncle's car. We had been out for a ride and now we were back in the Bronx, headed for home. Suddenly, another car sideswiped us. My mother and aunt shrieked. My uncle swore softly. My father, in whose lap I was sitting, said out the window at the speeding car, "That's all right. Nothing but a few Jews in here." In an instant I knew everything. I knew there was a world beyond our streets, and in that world my father was a hu- miliated man, without power or standing.

When I was sixteen a girl in the next building had her nose straightened; we all went together to see Selma Shapiro lying in state, wrapped in bandages from which would emerge a person fit for life beyond the block. Three buildings away a boy went downtown for a job, and on his application he wrote "Anold Brown" instead of "Anold Braunowiitz." The newsswept through the neighborhood like a wild fire. A nose job？ A name change？ What was happening here？ It was awful; it was wonderful. It was frightening; it was delicious. Whatever it was, it wasn't standstill. Things felt lively and active. Self-confidence was on the rise, passivity on the wane. We were going to experience challenges. That's what it meant to be in the new world. For the first time we could imagine ourselves out there.

But who exactly do I mean when I say we？ I mean Arnie, not Selma. I mean my brother, not me. I mean the boys, not the girls. My mother stood behind me, pushing me forward. "The girl goes to college, too," she said. And I did. But my going to college would not mean the same thing as my brother's going to college, and we all knew it. For my brother, college meant going from the Bronx to Manhattan. But for me？ From the time I was fourteen I yearned to get out of the Bronx, but get out into what？ I did not actually imagine myself a working person alone in Manhattan and nobody else did either. What I did imagine was that I would marry, and that the man I married would get me downtown. He would brave the perils of class and race, and somehow I'd be there alongside him.

In the passage, we can find the author was_______.

A．quite satisfied with her life

B．a poor Jewish girl

C．born in a middle-class family

D．a resident in a rich area in New York

Mystery of the White Gardenia

Marsha Aron

Every year on my birthday , from the time I turned 12 , a white gardenia was delivered to my house in Bethesda , Md. No card or note came with it. Calls to the florist were always in vain 一 it was a cash purchase. After a while I stopped trying to discover the sender' s identity and just delighted in the beauty and heady perfume of that´ one magical , perfect flower nestled in soft pick tissue paper.

But I never stopped imagining who the anonymous giver might be. Some of the happiest moments were spent daydreaming about someone wonderful and exciting but too shy or eccentric to make known his or her identity.

My mother contributed to these imaginings. She' d ask me if there was someone for whom I had done a special kindness who might be showing appreciation. Perhaps the

neighbor l' d helped when she was unloading a car full of groceries. Or maybe it was the old man across the street whose mail I retrieved during the winter so he wouldn't have to venture down his icy steps. As a teen-ager , though , i had more fun speculating that it might be a boy i had a crush on or one who had noticed me even though i didn´t know him.

When 1 was 17 , a boy broke my heart. The night he called for the last time , i cried myself to sleep. When i awoke in the morning , there was a message scribbled on my mirror in red lipstick: Heartily know , when half-gods go , the gods arrive. i thought about that

quotation by Emerson for a long time , and until my heart healed , i left it where my mother had written it. When i finally went to get the glass cleaner , my mother knew everything was all right again.

I don' t remember ever slamming my door in anger at her and shouting , "You just don' t understand!" because she did understand.

One month before my high-school graduation , my father died of a heart attack. My feelings ranged from grief to abandonment , fear and overwhelming anger that my dad was missing some of the most important events in my life. I became completely uninterested in my upcoming graduation , the senior class play and the prom. But my mother , in the midst of her own grief , would not hear of my skipping any of those things.

The day before my father died， my mother and i had gone shopping for a prom dress. We found a spectacular one , with yards and yards of doted swiss in red , white and blue , it made me feel like Scarlet 0' Hara ,

but it was the wrong size. When my father died iforgot about the dress.

My mother didn't . The day before the prom , i found that dress 一 in the right size - draped majestically over the living room sofa. It wasn't just delivered , still in the box. It was presented to me - beautifully , artistically , lovingly. i didn' t care if 1 had a new dress or no. But my mother did.

She wanted her children to feel loved and lovable , creative and imaginative , imbued with a sense that there was magic in the world and beauty even in the face of adversity. In truth. my mother wanted her children to see themselves much like the gardenia 一 lovely ，strong ,

and perfect - with an aura of magic and perhaps a bit of mystery.

My mother died ten days after i was married. i was 22. That was the year the gardenias stopped coming.

26. When did the narrator discover the mystery of the white gardenias？ Why was the sender' s identity kept secret？

27. When and how did the father die？ How did the narrator feel at her father' s death？

28. What traits of the mother' s characters are highlighted in the story？ Cite examples from the story to support your answer.

29. What do you think of the title of the story？ What does the gardenia symbolize in the story？

参考答案：

26. The narrator got to know the truth when she was 22. It was her mother who sent her the flowers. She kept it a secret so that the daughter could have the self-knowledge of her own good deeds as she speculated about who the sender might be.

27. The father died of heart attack close to her graduation from high school. She felt sad , disappointed that her father would not experience the important events in her life.

28.a. The mother' s wisdom: She thought of a wise way to encourage kindness in her daughter: to send flowers secretly; or she wisely scribbled a quotation from Emerson on her daughter' s mirror instead of directly talking her teenage daughter into accepting the loss of her boyfriend.

b. Her strength in the face of adversities: she stood strong when her husband died.

29.It is a good / helpful title. The title tickles the reader' s curiosity. OR It' s not a good title. When we are told of the "mystery" in the title , our curiosity is destroyed. The gardenia is the essential symbol in the story , helping to bring about the theme of the story: mother' s love. The gardenia symbolizes the qualities that the mother hoped for her daughter , qualities such as magical (aura of magic , a bit of mystery) , loving , strong , perfect , etc.

A.class Son implements Father

B.class Father implements Son

C.class Father extends Son

D.class Son extends Father

A.class Son implements Father

B.class Father implements Son

C.class Father extends Son

D.class Son extends Father

A.①②③

B.①② ④⑥

C.①② ⑤⑥

D.① ④⑤

A.a friend of father

B.a friend of my father's

C.my father friend()

D.my father friend's