I nodded slowly. I understood in my head, but not in my heart. I still wanted my father to put his arms around me and tell me he loved me. Dad owned and operated a small scrap(片)metal business and after school I often hung around while he worked. I always hoped he’d ask me to help and then praise me for what I did. He never asked. His tasks were too dangerous for a young boy to attempt, and Mom was already worried enough that he’d hurt himself. Dad hand fed scrap steel into a device that chopped it as cleanly as a butcher chops a rack of ribs. The machine looked like a giant pair of scissors, with blades thicker than my father’s body. If he didn’t feed those terrifying blades just right, he risked serious injury. “Why don’t you hire someone to do that for you?” Mom asked Dad one night as she bent over him and rubbed his aching shoulders with a strong smelling liniment. “Why don’t you hire a cook?” Dad asked, giving her one of his rare smiles.
Many years later, during my first daily visit, after drinking the juice my father had squeezed for me, I walked over, hugged him and said, “I love you, Dad.” From then on I did this every morning. My father never told me how he felt about my hugs, and there was never any expression on his face when I gave them.
61. What would be the best title for the passage?
A. I just couldn’t understand my father B. My father never loved me
C. Silent fatherly love D. My hard-working father
62. The author’s father always prepared a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for him because __________.
A. that was the author’s favorite B. he was sure the author would be thirsty
C. the author was always complaining D. that was a gesture of love
63. When the author complained in the first paragraph, his mother __________.
A. tried to comfort him
B. told him that his father loved him with action
C. tried to defend his father
D. got a bit angry with him
64. The author’s father didn’t hire a helper because __________.
A. his job was too dangerous
B. his job required high skills
C. he wanted to save money
D. he was not good at communicating with others
65. We may infer from the passage that __________.
A. the author’s father lacked a sense of humor
B. the author quite understood his father as time went on
C. the author’s father didn’t love him very much
D. the author’s father was too strict with him
C
It was Thanksgiving morning and in the crowded kitchen of my small home I was busy preparing the traditional Thanksgiving turkey when the doorbell rang. I opened the front door and saw two small children in rags huddling together inside the storm door on the top step.
“Any old papers, lady?” asked one of them.
I was busy. I wanted to say “no” until I looked down at their feet. They were wearing thin little sandals, wet with heavy snow.
“Come in and I’ll make you a cup of hot cocoa.”
They walked over and sat down at the table. Their wet sandals left marks upon the floor. I served them cocoa and bread with jam to fight against the cold outside. Then I went back to the kitchen and started again on my household budget.
The silence in the front room struck me. I looked in. The girl held the empty cup in her hands, looking at it. The boy asked in a flat voice, “Lady, are you rich?”
I looked at my shabby slipcovers. The girl put her cup back in its saucer carefully and said, “Your cups match your saucers.” Her voice was hungry with a need that no amount of food could supply. They left after that, holding their bundles of papers against the wind. They hadn’t said “Thank you.” They didn’t need to. They had reminded me that I had so much for which to be grateful. Plain blue china cups and saucers were only worth five pence. But they matched.
I tasted the potatoes and stirred the meat soup. Potatoes and brown meat soup, a roof over our heads, my man with a good steady job—these matched, too.
I moved the chairs back from the fire and cleaned the living room. The muddy prints of small sandals were still wet upon my floor. Let them be for a while, I thought, just in case I should begin to forget how rich I am.
66. Two children came to the writer’s front door because __________.
A. it was Thanksgiving Day B. they were beggars
C. they wanted old papers D. they wanted a cup of cocoa
67. Why did the writer let the children in?
A. She showed great pity on them.
B. She had old papers to sell. 66～70 CABCD
C. She wanted to invite them to her Thanksgiving feast.
D. She wanted them to see how rich she was.
68. The girl thought the writer was rich perhaps because __________.
A. she saw that the lady’s room was comfortable
B. she saw the cups matched the saucers
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