For years I wanted a f
lower garden. I spent hours and days thinking of different things I could plant that would look nice together.
But then we had Matthew. And Marvin. And the twins, Alisa and Alan. And then Helen. Five children. I was too busy raising them to grow a garden.
Money was tight, as well as time. Often when my children were little, one of them would want something that cost too much, and I’d have to say, “Do you see a money tree outside? Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”
Finally, all five children got through high school and college and were off on their own. I started thinking again about having a garden.
I wasn’t sure, though. I mean, gardens do cost money, and after all these years I was used to living on a pretty poor,
no-frills budget (預(yù)算).
Then, one spring morning, on Mother’s day, I was working in my kitchen. Suddenly, I realized that cars were tooting their horns as they drove by. I looked out of the window and there was a new tree, planted right in my yard. I thought it must be a weeping willow, because I saw things blowing around on all its branches. Then I put my glasses on—and I couldn’t believe what I saw. There was a money tree in my yard!
I went outside to look. It was true! There were dollar bills, one hundred of them, tied all over the tree. Think of all the garden flowers I could buy with one hundred dollars! There was also a note attached: “IOU eight hours of digging time. Love, Marvin.”
Marvin kept his promise, too. He dug up a nice ten-by-fifteen foot bed for me. And my other children bought me tools, a trellis (繃架), a sunflower stepping stone and gardening books.
That was three years ago. My garden’s now very pretty, just like what I wanted. When I go out to weed or tend my flowers, I don’t seem to miss my children as much as I once did. It feels like they are right there with me.
I live up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where winters are long and cold, and summers are too short. But every year now, when winter sets in, I look out of my window and think of the flowers I’ll see next spring in my little garden. I think about what my children did for me, and I get tears in my eyes---every time.
I’m still not sure that money grows
on trees. But I know love does.
小題1:By saying “Do you see a money tree outside?”, the mother actually means _____.
| A．Observation is the best teacher | B．Seeing is believing |
| C．The outsider sees the most of the game | D．It is not easy to gain money |
小題2:The underlined word “no-frills” in the fifth paragraph is similar in meaning to _____.
| A．wasteful | B．tight | C．deserted | D．helpful |
小題3:From the last two paragraphs we can infer that the mother is _____.
| A．divorced when she was young | B．not caring for her kids any longer |
| C．a(chǎn)lone but not at all lonely | D．prouder with her garden than with her kids |
小題4:The best title for the passage would probably be _____.
| A．My flower garden | B．Marvin helps to realize my dream |
| C．Love in Michigan | D．Money grows on trees |
in whenever you look at it. To someone else, however, it might be a thing of beauty and joy. 
a low income
sky and eating up crops and vegetation. The insect invasion, the worst in 30 years, is already creating great destruction in the Middle East and is now treating southern Europe. The current crisis began in late 1985 near the Red Sea. Unusually rainy weather moistened the sands of the Sudan, making them ideal seedbed for the locust, which lays its eggs in the earth. The insect onslaught threatens to create yet another African famine. Each locust can eat its weight (not quite a tenth of an ounce) in vegetation every 24 hours. A good-size swarm of 50 billion insects eats up 100,000 tons of grass, trees and crops in a single night.
e plague gets worse.
t you can find out. There may be a watch on your wrist; there may be a clock on the wall, desk, or computer screen; or maybe you’re riding in a car that has a clock in the dashboard .
der your control and obeys you
me