新世纪英语高二全部课文及重点词组

　　Friendship and friendliness do not mean the same thing. Friendliness characterizes much of American daily interaction but is not always an indication of friendship. Strangers may share life histories without any wish to set up a relationship. Instant friendships are characterized by the appearance of two people becoming close but, in reality, there is no string connection between them. Two people saying hello to each other after being introduced for the first time do not always mean that they have a strong wish to develop a friendship. Many people frequently smile or say “Have a nice day” or “See you later”, or even give an invitation as part of a cultural pattern of politeness. Such expressions do not always suggest an offer of continued friendship.

　　23. Adjo

　　How the years have rushed by! It has been a long time since I knew Marget Swenson. I was a child when I knew her, and now I myself have children. The mind loses many things as it matures, but I never lost Marget---my first love and first hurt.

　　I met Marget Swenson when she joined our sixth-grade class.

　　Marget, just fresh from Sweden, and I, a sixth generation American. She spoke very little English, but somehow we did manage to understand each other. We took to each other instantly.

　　Marget lived up on the hill. That was the place where there were many large and pretty houses. I suppose it was only in passing that I knew only white people lived there.

　　We had so much fun together. We sat for hours in my garden or hers, surrounded by grass. Her words were Swedish; mine, English. We laughed at the way each of us slid our tongues over the unfamiliar words. I learned the Swedish equivalents of hello, friend, and goodbye.

　　However, such fun did not last long, and the disaster began at Marget’s birthday party.

　　It was a Wednesday. I arrived at the party early. Marget and I ran around quickly, putting the finishing touches on the decorations.

　　Some fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang, and in came Mary, another girl in our class.

　　But after that nobody came. No one.

　　When it got to be after five, Mrs Swenson called Marget inside. She was there for a long time, and when she came out, she looked very, very sad. “My mother does not think they are coming,” she said.

　　“Why not?” Mary blurted.

　　Marget cast a quick glance at me, but she didn’t say anything.

　　I took Marget’s hand. “It’s me, isn’t it?” I said. Oh! I remember so painfully today how much I wanted her quick and positive “No!” to my question. But I was only aware of Marget trying to slip her hand from mine. I opened my hand and let her go.

　　It was different between us after her birthday. Marget stopped coming to my house, and when I asked her when she would, she looked as though she would cry.

　　One day, uninvited, I went to her house, climbed up the hill, and a restless feeling grew within me at every step.

　　Marget almost jumped when she opened the door. She stared at me in shock. Then, quickly, in a voice I’d never heard before, she said, “My mother says you can’t come to my house any more.”

　　I opened my mouth, and closed it without speaking. The awful thing had come; my suspicion was confirmed; Marget was white and I was not. I did know it deep within myself.

　　Since that meeting Marget and I did not speak to each other at all.

　　On the last day of school, getting up a strange courage, I handed my autograph book to Marget. She hesitated, then without looking up, wrote words I don’t remember now; they were quite common words, the kind everyone was writing in everyone else’s book. I waited. Slowly, she passed her book to me and in it I wrote with a slow, firm hand some of the words she had taught me. I wrote Adjo min van---Goodbye, my friend. I released her, let her go, told her not to worry, told her that I no longer needed her. Adjo.

　　24. Ryan, his friends, and his incredible torch run

　　We met in a biology class. Ryan sat in the front so that his wheelchair wouldn’t get in the way. I, however, believed that he wouldn’t have gotten in the way wherever he sat. I greeted him with a “Hello!” and he replied cheerfully. Later it proved that this simple “Hello!” was all it took for Ryan and me to become great friends.

　　Ryan suffered from brain damage and had endured many an obstacle. Yet, he is able to go on living his life to the fullest. He knows the old saying, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” to the deepest and most personal extent.

　　The highlight of our friendship came in our junior year, when Ryan asked me to hold the flag that would mark the spot where he would begin his Olympic torch run. When he asked me, I didn’t know what to say. “Why me?” I asked. He gently responded that he would be honoured if I would accept this position. He said that the Olympic committee sent a letter saying that the person that holds the flag must be someone important to him, and I was important to him because I was the only true friend he had ever made that talked to him and not to his wheelchair. How could I refuse such a gracious compliment and request?

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