好的英语文章赏析

很少有机会为我身体去我的城市观光，甚至更少，采取在一个旅游团的一部分。这样一个机会来到时，我被邀请到五家渠一日游，或五口之家溪，一个新的农场市32公里，距从乌鲁木齐到我从未去过。没有最少毫不犹豫地，我接受了邀请。它是由当地残疾人联合会举办的郊游。 30强党的“特殊公民”和他们的照顾，这是一个“特殊群体”“脑瘫，小儿麻痹症，和永久的脊髓损伤的人组成。一些坐轮椅，有的倚在拐杖，仍然有些一瘸一拐地与周围转动他们的头和手，多角度的捶胸顿足。他们可以创建一个以自己独特的吸引力！但他们每一个戴着

文章诠释了世间最珍贵的母爱。母爱是涓涓细流，流过孩子渴望关怀的心；母爱是一缕阳光，照亮孩子童稚的心；母爱是一阵温暖的春风，吹过孩子困惑的心。这是人世间最美，最真，最纯，最慈的爱。孩子在这种母爱的滋润下，将来必将成为有用之才。

There are few opportunities for me to physically go out of my city for sightseeing, and even fewer to take part in a tourist group. Such an occasion came whenI was invited to a day trip to Wujiaqu, or Five Family Creek, a new farm-turned city 32 km away from Urumqi to which I’d never been before. Without the leasthesitation I accepted the invitation.It was an outing organized by the local disabled persons’ federation. A 30-strong party of “special citizens” and their caretakers, it was a “special group” consisting of people with cerebral palsy, polio, and permanent spinal cord injuries. A few sat in wheelchairs, some leaned on crutches, and still some limped around with their heads and hands turning and wringing at odd angles. They could create an attraction unique in its own! But each and every one of them worea happy face and talked animatedly with one another as I joined the lot on April 30, 2009.“Disabled” has always been a harsh word to me, however subconsciously admittedI am to the fact that I belong to that “lot.” I was brought up in a world of“normal people.” There is literally nothing I cannot do in my parents’ loving care. The use of the Internet and the grasp of the English language have pushed me even further away from the consciousness that I am disabled. Right thismoment when I, for the second time, stood in the cool morning air with the “lot” waiting for the charted bus, I became more than ever conscious of my “nervous problems,” and an hour of waiting seemed like an eternity.Finally the bus arrived. I went on board with my mother and chose a seat by thewindow in the second row. The engine started when everyone was seated with allthe wheelchairs secured in the aisle. From an attractive midget young lady twoseats away on my right, I retrieved my glance and focused it on the window. Past corn fields, vineyards, and vegetable plantations, the bus came to a halt onehour later in what looked like a small parking lot of a scenic spot called “The 4th Annual Exhibition of Tulips.”Tulips! Tulips! Noble, graceful, attractive plants they are! Why is it that a plant looks to me almost like a gentle young lady? Ask Thumbelina from one of my picture books Mother used to read me when I was young – which depicteda pretty girl climbing out of a tulip-like flower I have loved tulips ever since, but was never given a chance to get a real-life sight of them until now….But it was not until the bus, with tremendous difficulty, maneuvered a few feetcloser to the entrance some 30 minutes later, did I get off to catch my first glimpse at my favorite flower.Arranged in crescent beds are patches of red and yellow dazzling under the blazing sun. Despite the warning “Stay where you are and we will have a group phototaken in a moment,” my legs take me to the nearest bed. Bending down, I fix my gaze at one particular tulip, which holds its six red petals on an upstandingstem. Around the stem sprouted several half-folded triangular leaves like two little hands posed as if to support the stem and the flower. Inside the petals there is no little Thumbelina to be found but a tiny golden pistil standing up straight on purple and yellow star-patterned velvet, bracing itself up for the sun’s and my glare.“Attention. Time to take the photo!” Comes a shout from the crowd behind. Obediently I turn around and squeeze into a pool of standers for one unified “Cheese!” And then a real tour of tulips begins.Along a tree-lined road there are red, yellow, pink, orange, magenta, crimson, cream, snowy white, pearly silver, dark purple, light gold, and rosy claret – the only colors I know by their names. They, together with a wide array of colorcombinations – magenta-yellow, red-white, purple-silver, pink-gold, to name a few, creates a world of colors. Tottering on the brick-wide path laid amidst theflowers, I am turned into a clumsy butterfly in a search for the perfect patchof tulips. This lot is charming, I yell to my mom and the companions. No, wait, I think this one is even better…, I decide hesitantly. In the end I, dazzledby an overwhelming effort of tulips to show off their tints and hues, haul downmy wings and come to a conclusion that it’s real hard to find one group superior to any other, for every color, every pattern they exhibit is a creation of Nature – created long before preference and prejudice were ever known to mankind.To share something good with your friends doubles your happiness. I find this saying quite weak when I see one of my wheelchair-bound friends shooting flowerswith a DV. He is a handsome man in his late thirties. Ten years ago he broke his neck in a terrible work accident and has been left paralyzed since.“Wow, I wish I could have a camera like this.” I walk over and ask, “Is thisa disc-type?”“Yep, 40GB.” He replies with a smile.His smile makes my happiness grow by at least five times.“You’d like to take a picture of yourself?” Mother good-naturedly asks one of the teammates with severe polio. To my surprise, he replies with an enthusiastic nod. His next move makes me gasp. In a struggle he stands up with one crooked leg and pushes his wheelchair away. One hand in the pocket and the other hand holding a bottle of water, he croaks, “I’m ready.”It was nearly 3 o’clock that we finally reached the other end of the road, where all the members had a nice meal of fish. By 4:30, we hopped on the bus readyto go back home.Every one was tired and sleepy on the return trip – except me. In silence I stared at the running landscape through the window. Everything returned to the “normal” color – unattractive green and gray. A strange thought flashed through my mind. Could all those tulips be seen as “strange”, “abnormal”, or “disabled?” They could, in fact, as long as they kept their natural differences.Would they ever feel ashamed of their unique appearances had they been given athinking mind?“This is all your fault! I should have been much taller and would not have hadall this misery!” Suddenly, this exchange of a parent-daughter conversation rang in my ears, as I looked over to the midget young lady, who had her MP3 player plugged into her ears and apparently enjoyed music she loved.“No, Tulip,” I would say to any tulip who felt sad about being abnormal, “Youare just being attractively different, not disabled. For every Thumbelina, there is one special tulip to sleep in. It’s nothing wrong to be special, but it’d be all wrong to be perfectly normal.”