2016北京高三一模完形全文.doc

2016北京高三一模完形填空2016北京高三一模完形填空海淀The Write FeelingGrowing up in a military family, l moved a lot. I mostly went to school with other kids whose parents were also in the military. But when my dad retired from the Marines after twenty years of service, I found myself attending a civilian school with twelve-year-olds who shared no similar life experience with me.I was a stranger in a strange land. Everyone in my class had grown up together, and they had no room to spare for a newcomer. I wore different clothes, had different thoughts, and spoke with an accent. I struggled for the first few weeks of school. I had no friends, no activities, and no promise of a bright future. To deal with it all, I began writing in my diary every daystories of adventure, of old friends, of feelings that l could not speak. I wrote as if my life depended on it as if the very next breath I look could not happen unless I wrote down words.One day, my teacher, Mrs. Bush, came to me and asked why I always sat there writing instead of playing with others. I told her I enjoyed writing and preferred writing to playing. She smiled at me and walked away. About three weeks later, Mrs. Bush gave us a writing assignment. I was excited that I could now participate in something I knew I excelled in. That night I worked and worked on the essay. I wrote with great passion. It was my one chance to feel important and accepted by the class.A few days after we handed in our assignments, Mrs. Bush called me up to the front of the classroom, l stood before thirty pairs of eyes looking at me, and I got worried. Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?Then Mrs. Bush told the class, how much she appreciated all the work that went into the essays and that everyone had done a great job. But, she said, one student stood out as an excellent writer, one with imagination, creativity, and word mastery. That student was me!The class clapped politely and Mrs. Bush handed me my paper, with the following remarks on it:“Malinda, you are an excellent writer. You fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. Please keep on writing and share your gift of writing with the world. I am proud of you and glad you are in my class.”Mrs. Bush helped me feel a sense of belonging, a place of purpose, and a way to survive a transition in life. She helped me gain confidence in myself that stayed with me beyond sixth grade. (443 words)西城As a teenager, I was pretty lazy when it came to doing things for my family. I worked hard at school, and sometimes looked after my younger sister. Still, I found myself regularly resisting the urge to help out at home with even the simplest things.Every Wednesday afternoon, for example, my mother drove me to another town for a piano lesson. During my two-hour lesson, shed rush to the nearby store and buy a weeks worth of grocerie. Given the fact that my mom had driven me twelve miles there, twelve miles back, paid for my lesson, and bought me a candy bar, youd think Id be very grateful to help her bring the groceries into the house. But I wasnt. I generally just brought in an armload and left the rest for Mom as I ran to my room, shut the door, and started studying.Dont get me wrong; even back in my room, I felt guilty about not helping my mother more. Deep inside, I wanted to change my way. But I also realized that once I did change, thered be no going back. Once I took on more responsibility, my parents would start expecting more of me. At age fifteen, I sensed that this one small change would mark something much bigger; my personal change from a cared-for, spoiled child to a more responsible, caring and giving young man.Ill never forget the Wednesday when I made a decision to jump in and see what happened. Returning home from the lesson, I disappeared into my room, as usual. But once inside, I felt that deep and burning shame. Throwing my school books on the bed, I suddenly opened my door and headed back to the garage to help my mother. How happy I felt that day!Surely, over time, I continued to help out with more housework. The neat thing was, the more I helped out, the better I felt about myself and my place in my family. As Mom and Dad realized they could count on me more, our trips became far less stressful, too. In short, it was a win-win situation for everyone.Sometimes the little things we put off doing the longest turn out to be the simplest things to complete. And feeling happy beats feeling guilty any day. (386words)东城 Running for a Dream I will never forget that November day. It was hotter than normal. This was the day my father and I had waited so long for, because we had been working towards this race for three years. Dozens of familiar faces from church and school flashed across my view. They had come for me. I saw worry and excitement on my fathers face. Then the race began! For the first two and a half miles. I felt great. I had never before been so ready for something. The weeks leading up to the race were filled with controlled practices and a strict diet. My friends hadnt seen me in weeks, but they understood the sacrifice required to make my dream a reality. As in all of my races，I didnt start out in the front，I loved the pleasure of passing people as my strength overtook their premature speed.Then without warning，my strength began to decrease. Neck and neck with one of my greatest competitors, I could see the finish line. I had begun the final dash into glory when my knees became weak and my legs gave way. Nothing I could do would make them hold weight. I watched as runners rushed by me. Although I knew my dreams of victory were destroyed, I had to finish the race. However, my legs hurt badly. With all of the strength left in me, I got on my hands and knees and crawled, inch by inch, across the finish line. Voices, both foreign and familiar, cheered me on. They gave me the courage to keep going until the very end. The doctors were there in seconds, but my eyes searched the crowd for him. There was only one person I wanted to talk to. I whispered, “Im so sorry , Dad, Im so sorry I disappointed you.” He looked at me, saying, “You could never disappoint me. Sometimes these things just happen. All that matters is that you did your best.”“But we worked so hard. What about our dream?” He reached over for my hand and said, “Dont you know that you are my dream and it has come true?”It wasnt long before my running shoes were back on, marking a new path for my journey, I learned that all of the miles, the tears, the sweat, and the pain my dad and I experienced together were not for a race. What I realized, though, was that to him, I was the greatest prize he had ever won. (421 words)朝阳 Communication with a StrangerLast weekend I sat on the bus talking with excitement and so ready to spend time in New York City with one of my best friends from college. As I took the window seat and wore headphones over ears, I almost didnt notice the elderly man sitting beside me. Two hours passed and I was still absorbed in my own world. Then the elderly man asked me a question, a simple question about the buss Wi-Fi connection, which turned into a two- hour conversation. In fact, it directly affected my personal life. We talked a lot about my dreams, my fears and my life. I shared more with this stranger on the bus than I have with any friend or family member in months. Maybe it had something to do with me just being afraid to let anyone I know close to me. I was amazed that the stranger was not only so deeply interested in getting to know me, but also just as willing to push me to my greatest abilities. He listened carefully to every word I said and made some useful suggestions at times. Instead of politely nodding his head when I mentioned my major, he told me that my strong liking seemed to be psychology, but not the one I was studying. He said that he knew I would face difficulties if I studied psychology and that he fully understood my fear for the failure. This elderly man made me question the plans that I had laid out for my life with just that simple statement. He helped me realize that my neatly organized plan for the next five years of my life wasnt all that neat, but actually complex and filled with uncertainty. Most of all, he helped me accept the complex, not stay away from it because of my fear for the unknown. I benefited a lot from talking with the elderly stranger. A few days later, he emailed me, saying, I think youre heading for great things no matter what you decide to do. The email was filled with words of encourage. In a few hours a stranger showed me a sense of kindness that made me realize that life is sometimes painful but it is going to be okay. (377 words) 丰台My tenth Christmas was one I was not looking forward to. Money was tight. Mom said we were old enough not to count on gifts. Just being together would be enough.We werent the only family in our small community who would have a simple Christmas. But the knowledge that others were going through the same thing didnt help much. One night we had a small pity party for each other.“How can I even wear that same old dress one more time?” I complained .“I know,” said my sister. “I think I might as well give up asking for a horse .”The next day, Mom told us that she had been saving up and shopping around so that we could give the Walters family a Christmas basket. “If anyone needs some cheer, its the Walters.” Mom reminded us.The Walters! They were the strangest people we knew. How could Mom be so generous with them when our own family didnt have enough?Mom was determined. She packed flour and sugar, a small turkey, some fruits in a basket and asked us to deliver it to the Walters. I really didnt like to have anything to do with them. Not wanting to be recognized , we left the basket on the doorstep and hid behind a nearby bush. Seeing the Walters gather up their basket, I asked in whisper, “Did they look happy?”“Well, yeah, happy, but mostly they looked like they were thinking, Maybe we do belong.”Christmas morning arrived. To my great surprised, I recei