The day I became a mom was not the day my daughter was born, but seven years later. Up until that day, I had been too busy trying to survive my abusive marriage. I had spent all my energy trying to run a "perfect" home that would pass inspection each evening, and I didn't see that my baby girl had become a toddler. I'd tried endlessly to please someone who could never be pleased and suddenly realized that the years had slipped by and could never return. Oh, I had done the normal "motherly" things, like making sure my daughter got to ballet and gym lessons. I went to all of her recitals and school concerts, parent-teacher conferences and open houses alone. We suffered from my husband's rages when something was spilled at the dinner table, telling her, "It will be okay, Honey. Daddy's not really mad at you." I did all I could to protect her from hearing the awful shouting and complaints after he returned from a night of drinking. Finally I did the best thing I could do for my daughter and myself: I removed us from the home that wasn't really a home at all. That day I became a mom was the day when my daughter and I were sitting in our new home having a calm, quiet dinner just as I had always wanted for her. We were talking about what she had done in school and suddenly her little hand knocked over the full glass of chocolate milk by her plate. As I watched the white tablecloth and freshly painted white wall become dark brown, I looked at her small face. It was filled with fear, knowing what the consequence of the event would have meant only a week before in her father's presence. When I saw that look on her face and looked at the chocolate milk running down the wall, I simply started laughing. I am sure she thought I was crazy, but then she must have realized that I was thinking, "It's a good thing your father isn't here!" She started laughing with me, and we laughed until we cried. They were tears of joy and peace and were the first of many tears that we cried together. That was the day we knew that we were... What is the best title for this article? A) How To Be a Better Mon? B) The Day I Became a Mom C) A Thing Happened 17 Years Ago D) Survive an Abusive Marriage
B
(Question)
Pete Richards was the loneliest man in town on the day that little Jean Grace opened the door of his shop. Pete's grandfather had owned the shop until his death. Then the shop became Pete's. The front window was full of beautiful old things: jewelry of a hundred years ago, gold and silver boxes, carved figures from China and Japan and other nations. On this winter afternoon, a child stood there, her face close to the window. With large and serious eyes, she studied each piece in the window. Then, looking pleased, she stepped back from the window and went into the shop. Pete himself stood behind the counter. His eyes were cold as he looked at the small girl. "Please," she began, "would you let me look at the pretty string of blue beads in the window?" Pete took the string of blue beads from the window. The beads were beautiful against his hand as he held the necklace up for her to see. "They are just right," said the child as though she were alone with the beads. "Will you wrap them up in pretty paper for me, please? I've been looking for a really wonderful Christmas present for my sister." "How much money do you have?" asked Pete. She put a handful of pennies on the counter. "This is all I have," she explained simply. "I've been saving the money for my sister's present." Pete looked at her, his eyes thoughtful. Then he carefully closed his hand over the price mark on the necklace so that she could not see it. How could he tell her the price? The happy look in her big blue eyes struck him like the pain of an old wound. "Just a minute," he said and went to the back of the shop. "What's your name?" he called out. He was very busy about something. "Jean Grace," answered the child. When Pete returned to the front of the shop, he held a package in his hand. It was wrapped in pretty Christmas paper. "There you are," he said. "Don't lose it on the way home." She smiled happily at him as she ran out of the door. Through the window he watched her go. He felt more alone than ever. Something about Jean Grace and her... A young woman came into the shop because _ . A) she was afraid that there might be some mistake B) she thought that the stones she had bought were not real C) she was not sure if she could get more stones like those D) she did not like what she had once bought
(Answer)
A
Ques: Renata Di Pietro was studying to be an opera singer. But at 23, while on a music scholarship at the University of Iowa in 1976, her sight began to fail. Soon, it became increasingly difficult to read scores and pick up hand signals from conductors, and the gifted singer was forced to drop out. After moving to Cleveland, Georgia in 2005, Di Pietro relied on guide dogs to get around. Over the years, she became depressed when she'd lose one of the dogs, who had become her best friend, to old age or death. "It's very painful, because you love each one," she says. In 2009, Di Pietro was _ by information from a friend that miniature horses typically live for at least 30 years and make calm and strong guides. She started with a male horse, but he was too hard to control. Angel came next, a mini white female horse Di Pietro has mostly trained herself. "Horses have the ability to avoid the things in the way," she says. "If I am about to run into something, she slides her body in front of me." Di Pietro, now 59, has taught her guide horse to make some sounds with her hoof when she comes to stairs. "Angel can find a chair and locate the nearest door for me," Di Pietro says. Currently, she's training Angel to pull her wheelchair and to fetch. Despite her disability, Di Pietro still sings, performing with her husband, musician Carl Hummer, at special events. Angel is always by her side. "I fight a battle every day to take courage to engage the world," Di Pietro says. "Angel is my warhorse. We fight that battle together." Why did Di Pietro have to give up her studying in the university? A) She disliked her major in music. B) She failed to get high scores. C) She couldn't understand hand signals from conductors. D) She found it difficult to see things clearly.
Ans: D
Question: If you see someone drowning, speed is very important. Once you get him out of water, if he isn't breathing, you have four minutes before his brain is completely destroyed. Support his neck, tilt his head back and press his chin upwards. This stops the tongue blocking the airway in the throat and is sometimes enough to get him breathing again. If that doesn't work, start mouth-to-mouth breathing. Press his nostrils together with your fingers. Open your mouth and take a deep breath. Blow into his lungs until his chest rises, then remove your mouth and watch his chest fall. Repeat twelve times a minute. Keep doing until help arrives. To bring a child back to life, keep your lips around his mouth and nose and gently blow into his mouth. Give the first four breaths as quickly as possible to fill the blood with oxygen. If, in spite of your efforts, he starts turning a blue-gray color1, and you can feel no pulse,then pressing is the last chance of saving his life. With arms straight, rock forwards, pressing down on the lower half of the breastbone. Don't be too hard or you may break a rib. Check how effective you are by watching if his color1 improves or his pulse becomes independent to your chest pressing. If this happens, stop the pressing. Otherwise continue until help arrives. Once you get a drowning person out of water, if he isn't breathing, you must_first. A) get him breathing again B) take him to the nearest hospital C) find someone to help you D) call the prefix = st1 /FirstAidCenter
Answer:
A