英語(yǔ)早讀美文
美文美讀的理論依據(jù)愛美是人的天性。古往今來(lái),人們?cè)谏钪凶巫尾痪氲刈非笾?創(chuàng)造著美,才有了輝煌燦爛的現(xiàn)代文明。下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編帶來(lái)的適合早讀的英語(yǔ)美文，歡迎閱讀!
適合早讀的英語(yǔ)美文篇一
The Long Goodbye 再見-太長(zhǎng)
"They grow up too soon," everyone told me. Eighteen years later, I finally understand what they meant.
It's nearly the end of summer break and my son goes out with friends. Ten minutes after he leaves home, I receive his text: Here. It's the same message I've received hundreds of times before -- our agreed-upon shorthand to reassure me, and probably him, in some still-unexamined way, that he has arrived safely at his destination. In a matter of days he'll head to college, and this routine, along with many others that have framed our days and nights, will come to an end. Reading that text triggers images stored safely away in my memory, a tiny flip book of our lives together.
My constant companion of nine months emerges with his eyes wide open. He's placed on my chest. I feel his heartbeat reverberating through mine. All I see are beginnings. Friends who visit caution that time is elusive, that he'll grow up faster than I can imagine, and to savor every moment. But I can't hear them; it's all too clichéd and my child has only just arrived. He's intoxicating: the beautiful bracelet-like creases in his wrists, the way he sounds like a little lamb when he cries. I'm filled with a renewed sense of purpose, of hope, of love. The first few months after he's born are topsy-turvy -- day is night, night is day. When sleep finally returns, so does work. My business suit is tight, my mind preoccupied. I pump milk in a cold, gray bathroom stall.
His teeth begin to appear. Baby bottles give way to solid foods. He points high above his chair to the clock on the wall. "Clock," he says. It's his first word, minus the "l," and it makes me laugh. Soon he is walking, skipping, making angels in the snow.
I'm promoted at work. It becomes harder to find the time to make playdates and pediatrician appointments. At lunch I read books about nurturing, teaching, inspiring your child. He calls my office with the help of his babysitter. "Momma," he says, "I'm making you a present."
The tooth fairy arrives and leaves him handwritten notes. He discovers knock-knock jokes and learns how to add, subtract, and read. He builds giant castles with giant Legos, rides his shiny bike down a country road with his feet off the pedals.
I quit my job to do freelance writing -- everything from training programs to marketing brochures to essays - usually when the rest of the family is sleeping. There's never enough money, but now at least we have time.
Saturday nights are always family nights, spent at home. There are countless sporting events. He tries baseball, soccer, and track, then falls head over heels for basketball. He swings from tree limbs, wears superhero costumes, develops crushes, friendships, and fevers.
I volunteer at his school: cut, paste, read, nourish, fund-raise, chaperone. I like this job.
There are marathon bedtime story rituals, endless questions about how things work, and monsters under the bed. Lego pieces grow smaller and castles more intricate. He tries the guitar, plays the trombone, saves quarters to buy video games, and collects trading cards, which he keeps in a shoe box under his bed.
We get a dog. He loves this dog with all his heart. The dog loves him back.
One day his height surpasses mine and, seemingly the next, his father's.
He reads an essay by a sportswriter. It lights a fire in him. He starts to write his own stuff, wandering into my office as I try to juggle freelance assignments.
I feel privileged to read his work.
Orthodontics are removed to reveal straight pearly whites. He earns his first paycheck as a baseball referee but wishes that it had been as a writer.
He learns to do the laundry, scrub the bathroom, and make pasta, though he often professes to forget how to do all three.
He turns 18.
On a cold and rainy Election Day we head out together to vote. After two hours waiting in line, he's the only teen in sight. It's not lost on him -- by the next morning he has written all about it.
He gets a job as a blogger, then starts his own website. And all the while there are macroeconomics, physics, and college applications.
The flip book's down to its last pages.
I've defined myself as a mother for 18 years. Who am I now? I look in the mirror. In my quest to help him grow wings, I forgot to grow some of my own. Can I find a new sense of purpose, rechannel the love?
Before I was a mother I was a daughter, infused with energy and the unspoken reassurance that my parents would always be there. But I can't be a daughter again. I'm on my own.
Does purpose -- mine, yours, anyone's -- require someone to nurture it, or is it inherent in all of us?
I'll soon be putting these competing theories to the test.
As I sit down to write this piece, I receive his text: Where are you?
Here, I text back.
For now.
適合早讀的英語(yǔ)美文篇二
Realizing your ultimate aim實(shí)現(xiàn)你的最終目標(biāo)
Have you ever wondered why you do all that you do? What is the aim of all the effort? Why get a job, why earn, why build a house, why get a car, why save for the future? Think about it for a moment...
You might say, we do this to ensure security and comfort for the rest of our lives... And why do we need security and comfort?
I think security and comfort are both geared towards one final aim, to ensure lasting and genuine happiness. Happiness is the ultimate aim of everything we do. Again, take a moment to think about this...
Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence. –Aristotle
The question I will raise is, do security and comfort really make us happy?
A secure life
安全的生活
Look at some senior folks who have pursued security all their lives and are about to finish their journey. How happy do they look?
Has your own pursuit of security thus far, kept you happy?
And then how real is safety? As I read in this thought provoking article, how helpful was security for the people in Japan who were hit by the Tsunami recently?
Life and future are too uncertain for anything, even money, to secure. There is absolutely no security in life. This realization need not be traumatic, in fact, it can be liberating! You don't have to be a slave to the future any more!
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing –Helen Keller
Do possessions make us happy?
有錢我們真的就會(huì)開心么?
You may say that happiness requires nice comforts like a house, a car, big bank balance, a high paying job.
Here in India where I live, I have traveled through villages where people seemed to earn just enough to make ends meet. I have seen happiness there. I have seen smiling faces and smiling eyes that readily gave me directions to my destination, that displayed a friendly curiosity in me and my journey.
I have also worked for 3 years on Wall Street, in a big Investment Bank. I have seen some people with a lot of money but still unhappy. I am not implying that all rich are unhappy(or the poor, happy). But the fact that there are some rich who look angry or listless and there are some people of modest means who look happy, points out that there must be something else to happiness, than just money, luxury and comfort.
Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. –Henry David Thoreau
Happiness, it seems, is not a factor of how much you have. You can feel happy listening to a good song, you can feel happy witnessing a beautiful sunrise, you can feel happy in any number of ways that don't require any possessions at all.
So what causes happiness?
那么，幸福源于何處呢?
Happiness, to me, is the result of a decision to be happy. I feel all the happy people I have met, whether in villages or on Wall Street, had just decided to be happy. No matter what the situation, they just smile. The ones who are not happy have postponed their happiness, they have made it contingent upon some event, some amount of money, a certain status... They have put certain limitations on their happiness. They don't believe that the only limitations we have are the ones we put on ourselves.
The happy ones remove all conditions on their happiness. They are dedicated to their decision to be happy, they focus on it constantly. They are not perfect, they falter sometimes. But their focus comes back quickly. They have brought happiness into routine, they have made it a habit.
A few things to try
要嘗試的一些事
Go ahead and make your own resolve to be happy. Practice it, try to be happy no matter what. If you falter(and you will falter, many times), don't feel guilty, just bring your focus back to your resolve. Slowly, you will find a sense of lasting happiness.
Denounce the idea of working for a 'future happiness'. Instead, form goals that make you feel happy right now, form goals that make you feel enthusiastic and passionate in this, present moment.
Listen to that favorite song of yours. Make a resolution to not think about anything till it ends. This is a simple choice, totally in your hands. No one can force you, without your complicity, to not enjoy.
Look at a beautiful picture, play with your kid, talk to a genuine friend...
Happiness is so readily available, right now!
適合早讀的英語(yǔ)美文篇三
Keep on Singing愛的奇跡
Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her three-year-old son, Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They find out that the new baby is going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sings to his sister in Mommy's tummy.
The pregnancy progresses normally for Karen. Then the labor pains come. Every five minutes ... every minute. But Complications arise during delivery. Hours of labor. Would a C-section be required? Finally, Michael's little sister is born. But she is in serious condition. With siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushes the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital in Knoxville, Tennessee.
The days inch by. The little girl gets worse. The pediatric specialist tells the parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst." Karen and her husband contact a local cemetery about a burial plot. They have fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby — now they plan a funeral.
Michael, keeps begging his parents to let him see his sister, "I want to sing to her," he says. Week two in intensive care. It looks as if a funeral will come before the week is over. Michael keeps nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care. But Karen makes up her mind. She will take Michael whether they like it or not.
If he doesn't see his sister now, he may never see her alive. She dresses him in an oversized scrub suit and marches him into ICU. He looks like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognizes him as a child and bellows, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed." The mother rises up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glares steel-eyed into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!" Karen tows Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazes at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. And he begins to sing. In the pure hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sings:
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray — "
Instantly the baby girl responds. The pulse rate becomes calm and steady.
Keep on singing, Michael. "You never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away — " The ragged, strained breathing becomes as smooth as a kitten's purr.
Keep on singing, Michael. "The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms..." Michael's little sister relaxes as rest, healing rest, seems to sweep over her.
Keep on singing, Michael. Tears conquer the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glows. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't, take my sunshine away."
Funeral plans are scrapped. The next, day — the very next day — the little girl is well enough to go home!
The medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it a miracle of God's love!
NEVER GIVE UP ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. LOVE IS SO INCREDIBLY POWERFUL.
像其他的好媽媽一樣，當(dāng)凱倫發(fā)現(xiàn)自己又懷孕了時(shí)，她就盡力幫她三歲的兒子邁克爾做好準(zhǔn)備迎接這個(gè)新生兒的到來(lái)。他們知道了這是個(gè)女孩后，邁克爾每天都趴在媽媽肚子上為他的小妹妹唱歌。
凱倫的懷孕期進(jìn)展正常。接著產(chǎn)前陣痛就來(lái)臨了，每5分鐘一次……每分鐘一次。但在分娩過(guò)程中出現(xiàn)了并發(fā)癥，陣痛持續(xù)了幾個(gè)小時(shí)。是不是需要剖腹產(chǎn)?終于，邁克爾的小妹妹降生了。但她的情況很不好。伴著晚上警報(bào)器的鳴叫聲，救護(hù)車把嬰兒送到田納西州諾克斯維爾市的圣瑪麗醫(yī)院，新生兒重病特護(hù)區(qū)。
日子一天天過(guò)去了。女嬰的情況愈來(lái)愈糟。小兒科專家告訴這對(duì)父母：“希望非常渺茫。請(qǐng)做好最壞的打算吧。”凱倫和她的丈夫聯(lián)系了當(dāng)?shù)匾患夜?，安排了葬禮的計(jì)劃。他們已經(jīng)在家里布置好了一間特別的嬰兒房——但現(xiàn)在卻要計(jì)劃一個(gè)葬禮。
邁克爾一直乞求父母讓他進(jìn)去看看小妹妹：“我想唱歌給她聽，”他說(shuō)。這是重病特護(hù)的第二周了。看來(lái)好像到不了這周結(jié)束葬禮就要來(lái)臨了。邁克爾不斷地纏著要給小妹妹唱歌聽，然而重病特護(hù)區(qū)不允許兒童入內(nèi)。不過(guò)凱倫下定了決心，不管他們?cè)覆辉敢?，她都要帶邁克爾進(jìn)去。
如果現(xiàn)在他看不到他的小妹妹，就再也沒機(jī)會(huì)見到她了。她為兒子穿了一身特大型的護(hù)士服，帶他走進(jìn)重點(diǎn)護(hù)理組。他看起來(lái)就像一個(gè)行走的洗衣籃，不過(guò)護(hù)士長(zhǎng)認(rèn)出這是一個(gè)孩子，她吼道：“馬上帶那個(gè)孩子離開這兒!禁止小孩入內(nèi)。”凱倫的母性變得堅(jiān)強(qiáng)起來(lái)，這位平日里溫柔的女士用堅(jiān)毅的目光盯著護(hù)士長(zhǎng)的臉，堅(jiān)定地說(shuō)：“他不會(huì)離開的，除非給他妹妹唱首歌。”凱倫拉著邁克爾走到他小妹妹的床前。他盯著這個(gè)不再為生存而掙扎的小嬰兒，開始唱歌。用三歲孩子單純的心聲，邁克爾唱道：
“你是我的陽(yáng)光，惟一的陽(yáng)光，當(dāng)天空灰暗時(shí)你能使我快樂(lè)……”
女嬰立刻有了反應(yīng)，脈搏跳動(dòng)變得平靜而穩(wěn)定。
邁克爾一直在唱著：“親愛的，你不知道我有多么愛你。請(qǐng)不要帶走我的陽(yáng)光——”女嬰不規(guī)則的、緊張的呼吸變得如小貓的呼嚕聲那般安穩(wěn)。
邁克爾繼續(xù)唱著：“親愛的，那天晚上當(dāng)我睡著，我夢(mèng)到我把你抱在懷中……”他的小妹妹放松下來(lái)了，放佛在休息，復(fù)原般的休息，似乎在她身上擴(kuò)展開來(lái)。
邁克爾還在唱著。淚水在護(hù)士長(zhǎng)的臉上肆意流著。凱倫變得容光煥發(fā)。“你是我的陽(yáng)光，惟一的陽(yáng)光。請(qǐng)別帶走我的陽(yáng)光。”
葬禮計(jì)劃取消了。第二天——就在第二天——女嬰就好起來(lái)，可以回家了!
醫(yī)護(hù)人員說(shuō)這就是一個(gè)奇跡。凱倫說(shuō)它是上帝之愛的奇跡。
決不要放棄你所愛的人。愛的力量其大無(wú)比。
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