2017届高三英语上海市一模考试英语分类汇编---阅读理解.docVIP

2017年上海高考各区一模题型汇总 阅读理解部分 宝山区一模 (A) It dawned on me recently that I am the only person in my family who doesn’t benefit from having a mother in the house. This was not only the case for me, but for a large number of fellow countrymen, including one friend who felt so bad one night that she got out of bed and cleaned her house in case the medical examiner had to come. (He didn’t.) “I want my mommy” indeed could be read throughout the cold, snowy descriptions of winter’s Facebook, where many middle-aged women are known to go for comfort. This translates as: “I want a constant supply of homemade soup without asking for it.” Also: “I want someone who can put her hand on my forehead and know within a degree what my temperature is.” More than anything, the desire for mommy translates into a longing for selfless constancy, for the all-knowing, all-knowing mother with a cold cloth in her hand, who never leaves the bedside except to go to the bathroom. The image of the mother nurse at the sick bed-think Gone With the Wind’s Melanie in the Civil War hospitals-is one of a perfect, warmhearted wisdom soldiers’ holy person and medicine woman, a la Joan of Arc, Mother Teresa and Pocahontas rolled into one. She is a supernatural being who knows, without the help of Google, when her patient should go to the doctor and when she should stay in bed, which illness needs a warm bath and which needs a warm shower… Now, to be fair: let me say that my good friend made soup for me-twice-while I was ill. My goddaughter, a nurse practitioner, texted every day, several times a day, from several states away. My husband often came home from work in the middle of the day to check on me. One night, which so happened to be an outdoor celebration , when I was at my most miserable and convinced it was time for the emergency room, my family gathered around me on the bed with red beans and rice． There’s nothing quite like a mother in situations like these. Literature knows it. History knows it.