高中英语晨读美文

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精选高中英语晨读美文

　　高中英语晨读美文一

　　The Most Beautiful Flower

精选高中英语晨读美文

　　The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree. Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown, For the world was intent on dragging me down.

　　And if that weren't enough to ruin my day, A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play. He stood right before me with his head tilted down And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"

　　In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light. Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play, I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

　　But instead of retreating he sat next to my side and placed the flower to his nose and declared with surprise, "It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too. That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."

　　The weed before me was dying or dead. Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red. But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."

　　But instead of him placing the flower in my hand, He held it mid-air without reason or plan. It was then that I noticed for the very first time, that weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.

　　I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun. As I thanked him for picking the very best one. "You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play, Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.

　　I sat there and wondered how he managed to see a self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree. How did he know of my self-indulged plight? Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.

　　Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see, the problem was not with the world; the problem was me. And for all of those times I myself had been blind, I vowed to see beauty,Then I held that wilted flower up to my nose and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose And smiled as that young boy, another weed in his hand About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

　　高中英语晨读美文二

　　Nail in the Fence

　　There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger,the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

　　Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there."

　　高中英语晨读美文三

　　Catch of a Lifetime

　　He was 11 years old and went fishing every chance he got from the dock at his family’s cabin on an island in the middle of a New Hampshire lake.

　　On the day before the bass season opened, he and his father were fishing early in the evening, catching sunfish and perch with worms. Then he tied on a small silver lure and practiced casting. The lure struck the water and caused coloredripples in the sunset, then silver ripples as the moon rose over the lake.

　　When his peapole doubled over, he knew something huge was on the other end. His father watched with admiration as the boy skillfully worked the fish alongside the dock.

　　Finally, he very gingerly lifted the exhausted fish from the water. It was the largest one he had ever seen, but it was a bass.

　　The boy and his father looked at the handsome fish, gills playing back and forth in the moonlight. The father lit a match and looked at his watch. It was 10 P.M.-- two hours before the season opened. He looked at the fish, then at the boy.

　　“You’ll have to put it back, son,” he said. “Dad!” cried the boy.

　　“There will be other fish,” said his father. “Not as big as this one,” cried the boy.

　　He looked around the lake. No other fishermen or boats were anywhere around in the moonlight. He looked again at his father. Even though no one had seen them, nor could anyone ever know what time he caught the fish, the boy could tell by the clarity of his father’s voice that the decision was not negotiable. He slowly worked the hook out of the lip of the huge bass and lowered it into the black water.

　　The creature swished its powerful body and disappeared. The boy suspected that he would never again see such a great fish.

　　That was 34 years ago. Today, the boy is a successful architect in New York City. His father’s cabin is still there on the island in the middle of the lake. He takes his own son and daughters fishing from the same dock.

　　And he was right. He has never again caught such a magnificent fish as the one he landed that night long ago. But he does see that same fish-again and again-every time he comes up against a question of ethics.

　　For, as his father taught him, ethics are simple matters of right and wrong. It is only the practice of ethics that is difficult. Do we do right when no one is looking? Do we refuse to 14)cut corners to get the design in on time? Or refuse to trade stocks based on information that we know we aren’t supposed to have?

　　We would if we were taught to put the fish back when we were young. For we would have learned the truth.The decision to do right lives fresh and fragrant in our memory.

　　高中英语晨读美文四

　　Sweet-Pea Summers

　　Each summer in the late 1960s, my two sisters and I would ride the Greyhound bus from Arizona to Arkansas to stay with our father.

　　A World War II veteran, Dad had many medical problems, any one of which could cause many people to lose more than their sense of humor, but not him.

　　I have vivid memories of Dad waking us up in the morning. Before he'd put on his legs for the day (he had lost his legs after his discharge), his wheelchair was his mobility. Holding his cane, which was his extended arm, he would roll through the house yelling, "Up, up, up! Get up and face the day! It's a beautiful day! Rise and Shine!" If we didn't get up right away, he would repeat his song in rhythm with his cane hitting the end of our beds. This was no performance put on for our benefit; every day was truly a beautiful day to him.

　　Back in the sixties, there was no handicapped parking or wheelchair-accessible ramps like there are now, so even a trip to the grocery store was a difficult task. Dad wanted no assistance from anyone. He would climb stairs slowly but surely, whistling all the way. As a teenager, I found this embarrassing, but if Dad noticed, he didn't let me help.

　　Those summers always ended too soon. He would drive us back to Arizona every year, stopping at the checkpoint for fruit and vegetables at the New Mexico-Arizona border. When asked if he had any fruits or vegetables, he would reply, "Just three sweet peas."

　　Our father has been gone for a long time now, but not the lesson that he taught us: You are only as handicapped as you let yourself be.

　　高中英语晨读美文五

　　The fire

　　A couple,John and Mary,had two lovely children.John had just been asked to go on a business trip and would be gone for several days.Mary would go along too.They hired a reliable woman to care for children and made the trip,returning home a little earlier than they had planned.

　　As they drove into their home town feeling glad to be back,they noticed smoke,and they went off their usual route to see what it was.They found a home in flames.Mary said,”Oh,well, it isn’t our fire,let’s go home.”

　　But John drove closer and exclaimed, “That home belongs to Fred Jones who works at the plant.He wouldn’t be off work yet,maybe there is something we could do. ” “It has nothing to do with us, ”protested Mary.

　　But John drove up and stopped and they were both horror stricken to see the whole house in flames.A woman on the lawn was in hysterics screaming, “The children!Get the children! ”John grabbed her by the shoulder saying, “Get a hold of yourself and tell us where the children are! ”“In the basement, ”sobbed the woman,”down the hall and to the left. ”

　　In spite of Mary’s protests John bolted for the basement which was full of smoke and scorching hot.He found the door and two children.As he left he could hear some more whimpering.He delivered the two badly frightened and nearly suffocated children into waiting arms and started back asking how many more children were down there.They told him two more and Mary grabbed his arm and screamed, “John!Don’t go back!It’ssuicide!That house will cave in any second. ”

　　But he ran into the smoke filed hallway and into the room.At last he found both children.As he stumbled up the endless steps,the thought went through his mind that there was something strangely familiar about the little bodies clinging to him,and at last when they came out into the sunlight and fresh air,he found that he had just rescued his own children.

　　The baby-sitter had left them at this home while she did some shopping…

　　高中英语晨读美文六

　　never too late to become what you want to be

　　The first day of school our professor introduced a little old lady to us.

　　"Why are you in college at such a young age?" I asked later. She jokingly replied, " I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."

　　"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age. "I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me.

　　We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we wouldleave class together and tolk nonstop. I was always listening to this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

　　At the end of the semester we invited Rose to make a speech to our football team. I'll never forget what she taught us. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her note card on the floor. A little embarrassed she simply said, "I'm sorry. This whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know." As we laughed she cleared her throat and began:" We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it! There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change.

　　Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do.The only people who fear death are those with regrets."

　　At the year's end Rose finished the college degree. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral to honor the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.

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