A篇选自英语散文“艺术之眼”。命题人对该篇文章的改动量不大，基本上是原文全文照搬，除了替换了个别超纲词之外(如gush of words 改为burst of words，不停说话，with their arms intertwined改为hand in hand，手牵手)。
Visions of Art
One afternoon I toured an art museum while waiting for my husband to finish a business meeting. I was looking forward to a quiet view of the master pieces. A young couple viewing the paintings ahead of me chattered nonstop between themselves. I watched them a moment and decided she was doing all the talking. I admired his patience for putting up with her constant parade of words. Distracted by theirnoise, I moved on.
I encountered them several times as I moved through the variousrooms of art. Each time I heard her constant gush of words, I moved away quickly. I was standing at the counter of the museum gift shop making a purchase when the couple approached the exit. Before they left, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a white object. He extended it into a long cane and then tapped his way into the coatroom to get his wife's jacket.
"He's a brave man," the clerk at the counter said,"Most of us would give up if we were blinded at such a young age. During his recovery, he made a vow his life wouldn't change. So, as before, he and his wife come in whenever there's a new art show."
"But what does he get out of the art?" Iasked, "He can't see.""Can't see! You're wrong. He sees a lot. More than you or I do," the clerk said, "His wife describes each painting so he can see it in his head."I learned something about patience,courage and love that day. I saw the patience of a young wife describing paintings to a person without sight and the courage of a husband who would not allow blindness to alter his life. And I saw the love shared by two people as I watched this couple walk away with their arms intertwined.
C篇选自英语散文“白色信封”(也译为“一个信封的故事”)，这是一篇很经典的文章，文笔优美，感染力强。命题人对该篇文章进行了较大改动：一是删去了部分段落和句子(如最后几段);二是改写了较难的长句(如将描述两队队员服装的句子These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestringsseemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrastto our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestlingshoes.改为较简单的These youngsters, dressed in such worn-out shoes that shoe stringsseemed to be the only thing holding them together, while our boys were in theirblue and gold uniforms and new wrestling shoes.);三是替换了部分超纲词(如将anonymously‘匿名的’替换为without leaving my name‘没有留下我的名字’)。
The small white envelope
It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of ourChristmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peekedthrough the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. He didn't hatethe true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it; overspending,the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry andthe dusting powder for Grandma and the gifts given in desperation because youcouldn't think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usualshirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just forMike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the juniorlevel at the school he attended and shortly before Christmas, there was anon-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostlyblack.
These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestringsseemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrastto our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestlingshoes.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team waswrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect awrestler's ears.
It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, weended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boysgot up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, akind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just oneof them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, butlosing like this could take the heart right out of them."
Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached littleleague football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his presentcame.
That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought anassortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to theinner-city church.
On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note insidetelling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile wasthe brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.
For each Christmas, I followed the tradition, one year sending agroup of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a checkto a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the weekbefore Christmas, and on and on.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was alwaysthe last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their newtoys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelopefrom the tree to reveal its contents.
As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents,but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.
You see, we lost Mike due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolledaround, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. ButChristmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning,three more joined it. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, hadplaced an envelope on the tree for their dad.
The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further withour grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watchingas their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmasspirit, will always be with us.