Question

帮忙找篇英语文章

“the metaphor ”by budge wilson英语原文

Answer 1

Everyone has a different view on life. One's perception can significantly impact the way that he/she views the rest of the world. This perception can be both positive and negative. Perception often plays a big role in determining how one is viewed by both themselves and others. People are often judged by their appearance and their actions. However, it is things such as their personality and their character that truly define them as individuals. In Budge Wilson's "The Metaphor," Miss Hancock is faced with the fact that other individuals often overlook her. Though others may not be aware of what they are doing, their actions can greatly impact another individual throughout their lifetime. The way that one is perceived can both positively and negatively affect the way that others view them as an individual, which can greatly affect their entire life.
The short story "The Metaphor" is based around this perception. Charlotte admires and looks up to her grade seven teacher, Miss Hancock. Miss Hancock is a very kind and caring person "I could tell that she was feeling concerned and kind, not nosy," (Pg. 69) but unfortunately she is often overlooked because of the way that she dresses "Her head was covered with a profusion of small busy curls, which were brightly, aggressively, golden." (Pg.66) However, as Charlotte and the rest of her classmates discover, she is actually quite a sophisticated person "Miss Hancock was equally at home in her two fields of creative writing and literature. It was the first tine I had been excited, genuinely moved, by poems, plays, stories." (Pg. 66) The more that the students developed, the happier Miss Hancock became "But we were delighted with ourselves. And she with us." (Pg. 67) She took great pride in her job and really enjoyed teaching her students. The more the children got to know Miss Hancock, the more they began to appreciate her as an individual, and the happier Miss Hancock became.
When Miss Hancock came to teach at the high school, she was filled with eccentricity and liveliness. This enthusiasm quickly turned into disappointment as the students swiftly discounted Miss Hancock. The student's first impression of Miss Hancock was that she was a joke, and they didn't take her very seriously. This rapidly dampened Miss Hancock's spirit "By then, stripped of 15 years of overblown confidence, she offered her material shyly, hesitantly, certain of rejection, of humiliation," (Pg. 77) until she realized that Charlotte was in her class "There was a desperate hope in them [her eyes] that I could hardly bear to witness" (Pg.77) However, Charlotte felt quite embarrassed, and somewhat reluctant to accept Miss Hancock in front of her peers. Miss Hancock's courage was broken once again. The emotional scars that she suffered was caused mainly because of the way that she was perceived by the older students. Charlotte was afraid to comfort Miss Hancock because she was scared of what her classmates might think of her "I did not live telling a soul that I had ever seen her before." (Pg. 78) Miss Hancock was greatly upset by the way she was perceived by her students, so she was negatively impacted because of the way they saw her.
Though Charlotte ignored and sort of rejected Miss Hancock, she still cared about her. Miss Hancock greatly influenced Charlotte's life:
"Still writing metaphors?" she asked, with a tentative smile. "Oh, I dunno," I replied. But I was. Nightly, in the bathtub. And I kept a notebook in which I wrote them all down. (Pg. 78)

Charlotte's entire grade seven class appreciated Miss Hancock, and their lives were all affected because of her. As the student's acceptance towards Miss Hancock increased, they became more comfortable with her. As a result, they became much more open to what she was teaching them "We could have not said what we loved best, Miss Hancock or her subject. They were all of a piece." (Pg. 66) The younger students enjoyed and appreciated what they were taught by Miss Hancock. Their willingness to learn was a direct result of their positive outlook towards their teacher. Miss Hancock was very pleased by this and was therefore positively affected by her student's view of her.
Miss Hancock was incredibly upset and distraught by the way that high school students viewed her. In the end, she was killed by a bus. Charlotte felt incredibly guilty and responsible for what happened to her "I killed her. We all killed her. But especially me." (Pg.79) Charlotte deeply regretted ignoring Miss Hancock, but by the time she realized what she had done, it was much too late. However, it wasn't entirely Charlotte's fault; her actions were greatly influenced by her classmates. When the students first met Miss Hancock, they took her very lightheartedly. They thought of her as someone that they could take advantage of. The students developed a negative viewpoint towards Miss Hancock before they got to really know her. The quote "Most grown-ups would have thrown it away after one brief glance at the frosting," (Pg.80) describes how many people often overlook an individual before they get to know them. The class judged Miss Hancock before they got a chance know her, and Miss Hancock suffered because of this.
Ones life can be greatly affected by the way they are viewed by others. The more that one gets to know person, the more one begins to appreciate them as an individual. People often get off on the wrong foot with other individuals and, unfortunately, this often permanently affects the way that one views a person. If one has a good attitude towards an individual, then their views will likely have a positive effect on that person. Throughout the story, Miss Hancock was continually judged, and her life was affected because of this. No matter what one does it is impossible for them to completely ignore their perception of things. The way that one views things can ultimately affect the way that their entire life is perceived by the rest of the world.

Answer 2

经典英语散文 父爱无边
My father was a self-taught mandolin player. He was one of the best string instrument players in our town. He could not read music, but if he heard a tune a few times, he could play it. When he was younger, he was a member of a small country music band. They would play at local dances and on a few occasions would play for the local radio station. He often told us how he had auditioned and earned a position in a band that featured Patsy Cline as their lead singer. He told the family that after he was hired he never went back. Dad was a very religious man. He stated that there was a lot of drinking and cursing the day of his audition and he did not want to be around that type of environment.Occasionally, Dad would get out his mandolin and play for the family. We three children: Trisha, Monte and I, George Jr., would often sing along. Songs such as the Tennessee Waltz, Harbor Lights and around Christmas time, the well-known rendition of Silver Bells. "Silver Bells, Silver Bells, its Christmas time in the city" would ring throughout the house. One of Dad's favorite hymns was "The Old Rugged Cross". We learned the words to the hymn when we were very young, and would sing it with Dad when he would play and sing. Another song that was often shared in our house was a song that accompanied the Walt Disney series: Davey Crockett. Dad only had to hear the song twice before he learned it well enough to play it. "Davey, Davey Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier" was a favorite song for the family. He knew we enjoyed the song and the program and would often get out the mandolin after the program was over. I could never get over how he could play the songs so well after only hearing them a few times. I loved to sing, but I never learned how to play the mandolin. This is something I regret to this day. Dad loved to play the mandolin for his family he knew we enjoyed singing, and hearing him play. He was like that. If he could give pleasure to others, he would, especially his family. He was always there, sacrificing his time and efforts to see that his family had enough in their life. I had to mature into a man and have children of my own before I realized how much he had sacrificed. I joined the United States Air Force in January of 1962. Whenever I would come home on leave, I would ask Dad to play the mandolin. Nobody played the mandolin like my father. He could touch your soul with the tones that came out of that old mandolin. He seemed to shine when he was playing. You could see his pride in his ability to play so well for his family. When Dad was younger, he worked for his father on the farm. His father was a farmer and sharecropped a farm for the man who owned the property. In 1950, our family moved from the farm. Dad had gained employment at the local limestone quarry. When the quarry closed in August of 1957, he had to seek other employment. He worked for Owens Yacht Company in Dundalk, Maryland and for Todd Steel in Point of Rocks, Maryland. While working at Todd Steel, he was involved in an accident. His job was to roll angle iron onto a conveyor so that the welders farther up the production line would have it to complete their job. On this particular day Dad got the third index finger of his left hand mashed between two pieces of steel. The doctor who operated on the finger could not save it, and Dad ended up having the tip of the finger amputated. He didn't lose enough of the finger where it would stop him picking up anything, but it did impact his ability to play the mandolin. After the accident, Dad was reluctant to play the mandolin. He felt that he could not play as well as he had before the accident. When I came home on leave and asked him to play he would make excuses for why he couldn't play. Eventually, we would wear him down and he would say "Okay, but remember, I can't hold down on the strings the way I used to" or "Since the accident to this finger I can't play as good". For the family it didn't make any difference that Dad couldn't play as well. We were just glad that he would play. When he played the old mandolin it would carry us back to a cheerful, happier time in our lives. "Davey, Davey Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier", would again be heard in the little town of Bakerton, West Virginia. In August of 1993 my father was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. He chose not to receive chemotherapy treatments so that he could live out the rest of his life in dignity. About a week before his death, we asked Dad if he would play the mandolin for us. He made excuses but said "okay". He knew it would probably be the last time he would play for us. He tuned up the old mandolin and played a few notes. When I looked around, there was not a dry eye in the family. We saw before us a quiet humble man with an inner strength that comes from knowing God, and living with him in one's life. Dad would never play the mandolin for us again. We felt at the time that he wouldn't have enough strength to play, and that makes the memory of that day even stronger. Dad was doing something he had done all his life, giving. As sick as he was, he was still pleasing others. Dad sure could play that Mandolin!
My father was a self-taught mandolin player. He was one of the best string instrument players in our town. He could not read music, but if he heard a tune a few times, he could play it. When he was younger, he was a member of a small country music band. They would play at local dances and on a few occasions would play for the local radio station. He often told us how he had auditioned and earned a position in a band that featured Patsy Cline as their lead singer. He told the family that after he was hired he never went back. Dad was a very religious man. He stated that there was a lot of drinking and cursing the day of his audition and he did not want to be around that type of environment.Occasionally, Dad would get out his mandolin and play for the family. We three children: Trisha, Monte and I, George Jr., would often sing along. Songs such as the Tennessee Waltz, Harbor Lights and around Christmas time, the well-known rendition of Silver Bells. "Silver Bells, Silver Bells, its Christmas time in the city" would ring throughout the house. One of Dad's favorite hymns was "The Old Rugged Cross". We learned the words to the hymn when we were very young, and would sing it with Dad when he would play and sing. Another song that was often shared in our house was a song that accompanied the Walt Disney series: Davey Crockett. Dad only had to hear the song twice before he learned it well enough to play it. "Davey, Davey Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier" was a favorite song for the family. He knew we enjoyed the song and the program and would often get out the mandolin after the program was over. I could never get over how he could play the songs so well after only hearing them a few times. I loved to sing, but I never learned how to play the mandolin. This is something I regret to this day. Dad loved to play the mandolin for his family he knew we enjoyed singing, and hearing him play. He was like that. If he could give pleasure to others, he would, especially his family. He was always there, sacrificing his time and efforts to see that his family had enough in their life. I had to mature into a man and have children of my own before I realized how much he had sacrificed. I joined the United States Air Force in January of 1962. Whenever I would come home on leave, I would ask Dad to play the mandolin. Nobody played the mandolin like my father. He could touch your soul with the tones that came out of that old mandolin. He seemed to shine when he was playing. You could see his pride in his ability to play so well for his family. When Dad was younger, he worked for his father on the farm. His father was a farmer and sharecropped a farm for the man who owned the property. In 1950, our family moved from the farm. Dad had gained employment at the local limestone quarry. When the quarry closed in August of 1957, he had to seek other employment. He worked for Owens Yacht Company in Dundalk, Maryland and for Todd Steel in Point of Rocks, Maryland. While working at Todd Steel, he was involved in an accident. His job was to roll angle iron onto a conveyor so that the welders farther up the production line would have it to complete their job. On this particular day Dad got the third index finger of his left hand mashed between two pieces of steel. The doctor who operated on the finger could not save it, and Dad ended up having the tip of the finger amputated. He didn't lose enough of the finger where it would stop him picking up anything, but it did impact his ability to play the mandolin. After the accident, Dad was reluctant to play the mandolin. He felt that he could not play as well as he had before the accident. When I came home on leave and asked him to play he would make excuses for why he couldn't play. Eventually, we would wear him down and he would say "Okay, but remember, I can't hold down on the strings the way I used to" or "Since the accident to this finger I can't play as good". For the family it didn't make any difference that Dad couldn't play as well. We were just glad that he would play. When he played the old mandolin it would carry us back to a cheerful, happier time in our lives. "Davey, Davey Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier", would again be heard in the little town of Bakerton, West Virginia.