When my grandfather died, my 83-year-old grandmother, once so full of life, slow

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 ofher own, she moved in with my mother, where she was visited often by othermembers of her large, loving family. Although she still had her good days, itwas often hard to arouse her interest.

But one chilly December afternoon three years ago, mydaughter Meagan, then eight, and I were visiting her, when she noticed thatMeagan 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, andthe very first gift I opened that Christmas was the most beautiful doll you’dever want to see.”

“She had an elegant, hand-painted face, and her longbrown hair was pulled back with a big pink bow. Her eyes were blue, and theyopened and closed. I remember she had a body of kidskin, and her arms and legsbent at the joints.”

GG’s voice dropped low, taking on an almost respectfultone. “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 — myparents must have had to sacrifice so much to afford it. But how happy I wasthat morning!”

GG’s eyes filled and her voice shook with emotion asshe recalled that Christmas of long ago. “I played with my doll all morninglong. And then it happened. My mother called us to the dining room forChristmas dinner and I laid my new doll down gently on the hall table. But as Iwent to join the family at the table, I heard a loud crash.”

“I hardly had to turn around — I knew it was myprecious doll. And it was. Her lace skirt had hung down from the table justenough for my baby sister to reach up and pull on it. When I ran in, there laymy beautiful doll on the floor, her face smashed into a dozen pieces. She wasgone forever.”

A few years later, GG’s baby sister was also gone, shetold Meagan, a victim of pneumonia(肺炎). Now thetears in her eyes spilled over — tears, I knew, not only for a lost doll and alost sister, but for a lost time.

Silent for the rest of the visit, Meagan was no soonerin the car going home than she exclaimed, “Mom, I have a great idea! Let’s getGG a new doll for Christmas. Then she won’t cry when she thinks about it.”

My heart filled with pride as I listened to mysympathetic little daughter. But where would we find a doll to match GG’s fondmemories?

Where there’s a will, as they say, there’s a way. WhenI told my best friends, Liz and Chris, about my problem, Liz put me in touchwith a local doll-make. From a doll supply house I ordered a long brown hairand a kidskin body to copy the outfit GG had so lovingly described. Lizvolunteered to put the doll together, and Chris helped me make the doll’soutfit. Meagan wrote the story of the lost doll by giving examples.

Finally our creation was finished. To our eyes it wasperfect. But there was no way it could be exactly like the doll GG had loved somuch and lost. Would she think it looked anything like it?

On Christmas Eve, Meagan and I carried our happilypacked gift to GG, where she sat surrounded by children, parents, aunts, unclesand cousins. “It’s for you,” Meagan said, “but first you have to read the storythat goes with it.”

GG no sooner got through the first page than her voicecracked 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 liftedthe doll and held it to her chest. Once again her tears fell, but this timethey were tears of joy. Holding the doll in her frail arms, she repeated overand 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 ofthe doll she remembered. But as I watched my eight-year-old daughter and hergreat-grandmother examining the doll together, I thought of a likelierexplanation. What GG really recognized, perhaps, was the love that inspired thegift. And love, wherever it comes from, always looks the same.

1.GG moved in with her daughter because____.

A．she wanted tolive with a large family

B．she was notable to live on her own due to her weakness

C．her husbandpassed away

D．she thoughtit was the children’s obligation to take care of her

2.Why did GG become very emotional on a Decemberafternoon?

A．Because shesaw her great granddaughter’s doll.

B．Because sherecalled her dead parents.

C．Because shewas surrounded by her offspring.

D．Because shefelt lonely during the Christmas season.

3.What can we infer from Paragraph 5? 

A．GG’s doll was important and was a symbol of many things.

B．GG showedgreat respect for his husband’s love.

C．GG missed thegreat old days she spent with her family.

D．GG wasgrateful for her long life.

4.What happened to GG’s baby sister?

A．She enviedher sister all her life.

B．She feltguilty for breaking GG’s doll and decided to go.

C．She left homeat a young age.

D．She died ofsome disease at a young age.

5.Why did Meagan’s mum feel proud of her daughter?

A．Because shewas clever.                  B．Because shewas loving.

C．Because shewas sensitive.                D．Because shewas imaginative.

6.The main idea of the passage is that ____.

A．treating theelderly well is moral

B．it isimpossible to copy the exact doll for the elderly

C．love, thepermanent rhythm of life, will always remain in the elderly’s heart

D．physicalcomfort from children rather than psychological care is important

试题答案

【答案】

1.B

2.A

3.A

4.D

5.B

6.C

【解析】

试题