完形填空 It was Christmas 1961．I was teaching in a small town where my twenty-seven

完形填空

It was Christmas 1961．I was teaching in a small town where my twenty-seven third graders eagerly 1 the great day gift-giving in advance．

Each day the children produced some new 2－string of popcorn, hand-made trinkets, and German bell．Through it all a girl remained alone, watching from a distance, 3 miles away．I wondered what would happen to this quiet child, once so happy, now suddenly so 4．I hoped the festivities would 5 her．But nothing did．The students made the fried marbles(油炸玻璃弹子)and competed with one another to bring the 6 ones．

The day of gift-giving finally came．We cheered over our handiwork as the presents were 7．All along, she sat quietly watching．To see her smile, I had made a special bag for her．She opened it so slowly and carefully．I waited but she 8．I had not passed through the wall of isolation she had 9 around herself．

After school I sat down in a chair, hardly 10 of what was happening, when she came to me with outstretched hands, bearing a small white box, and slightly soiled(弄脏), as though it had been held many times by 11, childish hands．She said nothing．“For me?” I asked．She said not a word, but 12 her head．I took the box and cautiously opened it．There inside, glistening green, a fried marble 13 from a golden chain．Then I looked into that eight-year-old 14 and saw the question in her dark brown eyes．15 a flash I knew－she had made it for her mother, who had died just three weeks before and would never hold her or brush her hair or 16 her childish joys or sorrows．

I 17 it when I whispered, “Oh, Maria, it is so beautiful．Your mother would 18 it．” Neither of us could stop the 19．She threw herself into my arms and we wept together．And for that brief moment I became her mother, for she had given me the greatest 20 of all：her trust and love．

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