名著阅读之心灵鸡汤精选 A Perfect Exchange
班级:____________学号:____________姓名:____________
心灵鸡汤精选A Perfect Exchange
话题归类 | 阅读难度 | 词数 |
任性 翻译人间友爱 | 五星 | 753 |
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spf是什么意思
【文章梗概】姨妈是一个节俭的人,她从不用商店购买的东西作为礼物,也不会把钱浪费在化妆品上。一枚饰针是她唯一的配饰。一件漂亮的裙子,只有在正式场合才穿。今年姨妈和我们一起过圣诞节。我为姨妈准备的礼物——诱人的果酱,一个红色蝴蝶结。当姨妈打开礼物时,她非常激动。而姨妈送给我的礼物是几本她的亲笔日记和她一生最喜爱的饰针,我视之为珍宝。这个圣诞节我和姨妈都收到了彼此最喜爱的礼物,这个圣诞节令我至今难忘。
An aunt is someone special to remember with warmth, think of with pride, and cherish with love.
~
Author Unknown
lotto
The unexpected, tube-shaped gift from Aunt Maisy was wrapped in familiar paper — the same wallpaper that hadgraced her outhou walls. I giggled to mylf thinking how mythrifty aunt had saved thatscrapof leftover wallpaper in herattic for years.
Hard as I tried, I couldn’t imagine what Aunt Maisy, who was not one to spend money on store-bought “gifts,” would possibly be giving me for Christmas! We had never exchanged gifts before. In fact, we only saw her and Uncle Chill a couple of times a year in the summer when Dad would drive us nearly a hundred miles to visit them.
angus deaton
But Uncle Chill was gone now, and Mom and Dad had coaxed Aunt Maisy into coming to spend Christmas with us. They hoped she might stay since, according to Mom, she wasn’t well enough to live on her own anymore.
I hadn’t planned on fitting a gift for Aunt Maisy into my Christmas budget, but Mom insisted I buy her something. I browd through Eaton’s and drooled over the boxed ch
ocolates, thinking what a great gift they’d make since she would have to share them with me! But I remembered Aunt Maisy was not suppod to eat anything with sugar becau she had diabetes四级准考证打印入口.
I sprayed my coat with perfumes from the test bottles, but I knew Aunt Maisy would scold me for wasting money on store-bought toiletries that she claimed were “far too expensive” and “good for nothing but making you sneeze.”
I rummagedthrough bins of scarves, shawls, and handkerchiefs, but nothing emed suitable for Aunt Maisy, who wasn’t one to wear sunbeltfrilly or fancy things. She only had one good dress, which she wore to church or when she was having company.
i know you were troubleI admired an endless arrayof jewellery, but all the glistening strings of beads, chains, earrings and bracelets emed far too flashy. The only piece of jewellery I ever recalled eing my aunt wear was a tiny,enameled strawberry brooch, which Uncle Chill had given her when they were young and courting. Whenever she wore her good dress, the little brooch waspinned to its collar.
It was nearing noon, but I still hadn’t found anything suitable for Aunt Maisy! I figured I’dpopinto the drugstore and buy mylf some bubblegum before meeting Dad.
As I stood in line while people were getting their prescriptions filled, I spotted the cutest little jars of jam I had ever en! There were three little jars per t, nestled in a pretty redtartan box with a cellophanefront. But what really caught my eye was the word on the sign above the boxes. It read “diabetic” and stated that the jams were “sugar-free” and “doctor approved.”
My heart was pounding with excitement as I remembered hearing Aunt Maisy tell Mom how much she misd her “sweets.” I eagerly cho the box that contained three of her favourite backyard fruits: gooberry, strawberry and currant. I paid the cashier, who talked me into buying a red bow with my leftover change from the purcha.
To this very day, I can still picture the look of delight on Aunt Maisy’s face as she opened her gift from me! She fusd and fusd as though the box of jams was the finest gift she had ever received. I hadn’t expected my gift to give her such pleasure, and I was eve
n more surprid at the unexpected joy I felt in watching her open it. She even asked Mom to pin the red bow onto her collar, and it was only then I noticed Aunt Maisy was not wearing her beloved strawberry brooch.
canton
Finally, my turn came to peelthe outhou wallpaper off the funny, tube-shaped gift. Tucked inside the tube were veral old, yellowed notebooks, which we call “scribblers” in Canada, rolled up and bound with rubber bands, along with a tiny box thatrattled when it was shaken.
I slippedthe bands off the scribblers and found the fragile pages were filled with Aunt Maisy’s handwriting. In her journals, she had recorded all of our summer visits and the things we did together — things I took for granted. I never realid, until then, how much she and Uncle Chill had cherished the time we spent together. And inside the tiny box was Aunt Maisy’s beloved strawberry brooch.
Today, the scribblers and the precious little pin are two of my most prized posssions. And that Christmas of so long ago still holds a special place in my heart.economic