2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文欣賞
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文欣賞
美文,不禁浮現(xiàn)出一個(gè)美麗的情境,賦予優(yōu)美的語(yǔ)境和豐富的情感;美文,不禁聯(lián)想到一種美幻的意境,充滿情感的體驗(yàn)和豐富的表達(dá)。下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編帶來(lái)的2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文，歡迎閱讀!
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文篇一
We are Family--by Jan Paddock
When I broke up with yet another boyfriend, this time after a three?year relationship, I decided it was time for me to face the facts-I was just not lucky in love. Yet even though I had given up on men, I wasn't ready to go without love in my life, so I decided to get a dog.
I found the perfect puppy after a careful search, and one hot June day, I brought home the little golden retriever puppy I'd named Cognac.
Like all puppies, Cognac was adorable; immediately, I felt love and sweetness flowing in my life again. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner?
A few days later, I received a call from a man who'd gotten my name through a computer?dating club. I had joined the club before the start of my last relationship and had never cancelled my membership. I hadn't been very impressed with the people I'd met through the club's services, but this guy, Brad, seemed nice enough on the phone, so when he asked me to meet him at the lake in a nearby park the next evening, I thought, I've got to walk Cognac anyway . . . sure, why not?
Brad had said he was no longer in the service, but that he had been an air force tech sergeant. That wasn't the kind of guy I usually dated, but I had liked his voice on the phone and decided to keep an open mind. When I got to the park for our date, I looked around for a blond man with a buzz cut and a military bearing. There was no one like that at the park-the only blond man was a gorgeous guy with hair almost to his shoulders. I thought, Now why can't a guy like that ask me out? ~ Then the gorgeous guy walked over to me and said, "Are you Jan?"
I immediately decided to give men another chance.
Cognac's enthusiastic greeting made our introductions easy. He jumped up on Brad's legs and ran in circles, wagging his whole body madly while trying to lick every part of Brad he could. We started to walk around the lake, and everybody we met fussed over the puppy. By the time we were halfway around the lake, Brad was holding Cognac's leash, and he and I were chatting away like old friends.
At the end of our walk, we weren't ready to say goodbye, so we found a cafe and picked an outdoor table so the puppy could be with us. From the very start, our relationship included Cognac.
Things went from good to better. One evening, three months later, Brad and I went to a restaurant that we liked for dinner. It was one of those places that have paper over the tablecloths and when they bring you the menu, they also bring crayons so that you can draw or writ e poetry while you're waiting for your meal. Brad and I always played Hangman while we waited and that night, we were playing our usual game. As I guessed the letters and the words started to form themselves, a sentence emerged: Will you marry me?
I gasped and turned towards Brad, "Are you kidding?"
Brad looked nervous, but his eyes were shining and he smiled at me. "No, I'm not kidding-what's your answer?"
I took a crayon and wrote a huge YES across the paper.
We sat grinning at each other for a few minutes and then began to plan our wedding.
From the start, we were sure about two things: We wanted an outdoor wedding and we wanted Cognac to be a part of the ceremony.
The day of the wedding dawned perfect and clear. Our families and friends gathered near the natural spring that we'd chosen as the spot where we would say our vows. My bridesmaids were dressed in rich purple gowns. I had on my wedding dress, and my heart felt as if it were overflowing with love and joy. Yet I was slightly apprehensive, wondering if we had lost our minds expecting Cognac, now ten months old and goofy in the way that only young dogs can be, to handle his responsibilities as ringbearer without creating chaos.
Cognac wore a white collar and a purple satin bow tie. My bridesmaids, who knew we had lost our minds having a dog at the ceremony, ran around with lint rollers, trying to keep their dark gowns free of golden hair-an almost impossible task.
Cognac's job was to carry a heart?shaped basket containing our rings to Brad. The basket held a heart?shaped pillow to which Brad had secured our rings with pieces of wire. This would prevent a disaster, in case Cognac decided to go for a swim in the spring, basket and all, instead of delivering it to Brad as we'd planned. As I began to walk to the aisle, in preparation for following the bridesmaids, I panicked. I realized I needed another hand! I held my bouquet in one hand, Cognac on his leash in the other, but I needed to hold the basket as well. If I gave the basket to Cognac to carry, he would take it as the signal to run to Brad, just as he'd been trained and I'd be dragged after him-spoiling the effect I'd had in my mind for my appearance on the scene.
Somehow I managed to get to the aisle, unhook
Cognac's leash and put the basket in his mouth. He was off like a shot, racing toward Brad with his beautiful golden ears streaming behind him, as if he was hot on the trail of a speeding rabbit. There was a swell of laughter as our guests appreciated the dedication of our furry ring- bearer.
When Cognac reached Brad, he dropped the basket at feet and, panting, looked up at Brad for approval. As Brad reached down to pick up the rings, a suddenly quiet Cognac solemnly raised his paw to meet my almost- husband's hand-a canine "Way to go, Brad."
Our guests, dog?lovers and non?dog?lovers alike, were completely undone and to this day, when anyone talks about our wedding they may not remember what year it was or what I was wearing, but they always mention the dog's pawshake.
For me, it was the perfect start to our new life together. Just the way I always dreamed it would be-Brad and me ... and Cognac.
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文篇二
Help from an Unexpected Source
It was March 29, 1944, and the twentieth mission for our B-17 crew. We were assigned to the 401st Squadron of the "Mighty Eighth" Air Force and flying out of a former Royal Air Force base at Bassingbourne, England. On that day, we were to lead an attack against an aircraft factory near Brunswick, Germany. On previous missions to this area, we had encountered fierce fighter opposition and were briefed now to expect more of the same. At this point in the war, our strategy was to destroy the Luftwaffe-in the air, on the ground and in the factories-in preparation for the planned D-Day landings.
The ten members of our crew had grown accustomed to the nervous tension that built up in our bodies during each mission, because many crews were being shot down during this period. We were given a detailed briefing on the weather, expected opposition from antiaircraft fire and fighter aircraft, survival techniques, etc. Then we gathered up our parachutes, helmets, flak vests and guns before going to our aircraft.
The ball of apprehension in our stomachs grew during this takeoff in our overloaded aircraft. As we climbed up to our bombing altitude of twenty-six thousand feet, the other five planes in the squadron that I was leading joined us. Over the English Channel, the guns were test-fired and radio checks completed. We sped toward our target and dropped our load.
After completing the bombing run, the formation made a sweeping left turn toward home. A crew member called our attention to a group of about fifty fighter aircraft at two o'clock, ahead and to our right, and slightly higher than our formation. We were always suspicious of any fighter aircraft, because our crafty enemy resorted to all types of ruses to draw our gunners' attention while others would then press in with an attack. Some familiar tricks were simulating friendly fighter tactics, mock dogfights, etc., while other enemy aircraft suddenly turned in to attack us.
However, these aircraft had the familiar P-51 black paint with white stripes on the wings and were equipped with the wing tanks for extra range. Suddenly, they dropped their tanks just off to our right, and we looked around for German fighters in the area. We found them, when the whole formation of "P-51s" turned out to be Luftwaffe ME-109s that turned in to us with their cannons blazing! We narrowly missed being rammed by two of them that just barely passed over us.
We couldn't escape being hit, with two ME-109s firing at us point-blank. Looking out the left window, I saw the left wing covered with a sheet of flame from the cockpit to the wing tip. Frank, in the ball turret, called on the interphone, "We're on fire!"
"Get out of there right away," I responded. Then without thinking-and because in the Flemish farm community near Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I grew up, it was the custom to joke under difficult circumstances-I added, "Come up here, and we'll have a wienie roast."
I didn't wait to hear if he was laughing, for I was watching the flames blow off of the back of the wing, except for those around the number-one engine, where they burned brightly around the cylinders. I immediately followed established procedures to extinguish the fire. If we didn't control it, it would mean bailing out-a prospect I didn't want to consider in this particular situation. It seemed to take forever, but the fire did go out. By then, friendly fighters had arrived to chase the enemy away, so we limped along safely behind the returning B-17 formations.
We "sweated out" the trip back home to England. Since our gasoline supply was low, we chose to remain near the surface to conserve fuel. We came over our home field at Bassingbourne at two hundred feet, made a tight pattern and were once again back on terra firma. The crew gave a huge collective sigh of relief.
The popular expression "There are no atheists in foxholes" applied to our B-17 as well. God spared us above Brunswick; I think we may have been the best-praying crew in the Eighth Air Force.
But it turned out that we had other help that day as well.
The flight surgeon grounded our crew for a week, because we had flown seven missions in the last nine days. Some of the crew spent this free time with the mechanics and armament specialists who were repairing our aircraft. They found that four cannon shells had exploded in the airframe, but they also found three more that, strangely, had not exploded. It gave all of us a nasty turn to realize what a truly close shave it had been. If any one of those shells had gone off, it could have been the end of us.
Two of the shells did not contain any explosives in them, but the third had some paper with a message where the explosives would have been. It took a while to find a translator to read the message; it was in Czech and was probably placed in the cannon shell in the Skoda armament plant in Prague, Czechoslovakia. The majority of the Czechoslovakian people resented German control, but many were forced to work in factories supporting the Nazi war effort. The message read, "THIS IS OUR WAY OF HELPING YOU."
Dr. Lester F. Rentmeester
Condensed from an article in Voyageur
December 2000
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文篇三
A Thanksgiving Story
Help carry one another’s burdens and in this way you will obey the law of Christ.
It was the day before Thanksgiving -- the first one my three children and I would be spending without their father, who had left several months before. Now the two older children were very sick with the flu, and the eldest had just been prescribed bed rest for a week.
It was a cool, gray day outside, and a light rain was falling. I grew wearier as I scurried around, trying to care for each child: thermometers, juice, diapers. And I was fast running out of liquids for the children. But when I checked my purse, all I found was about
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文欣賞
美文,不禁浮現(xiàn)出一個(gè)美麗的情境,賦予優(yōu)美的語(yǔ)境和豐富的情感;美文,不禁聯(lián)想到一種美幻的意境,充滿情感的體驗(yàn)和豐富的表達(dá)。下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編帶來(lái)的2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文，歡迎閱讀!
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文篇一
We are Family--by Jan Paddock
When I broke up with yet another boyfriend, this time after a three?year relationship, I decided it was time for me to face the facts-I was just not lucky in love. Yet even though I had given up on men, I wasn't ready to go without love in my life, so I decided to get a dog.
I found the perfect puppy after a careful search, and one hot June day, I brought home the little golden retriever puppy I'd named Cognac.
Like all puppies, Cognac was adorable; immediately, I felt love and sweetness flowing in my life again. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner?
A few days later, I received a call from a man who'd gotten my name through a computer?dating club. I had joined the club before the start of my last relationship and had never cancelled my membership. I hadn't been very impressed with the people I'd met through the club's services, but this guy, Brad, seemed nice enough on the phone, so when he asked me to meet him at the lake in a nearby park the next evening, I thought, I've got to walk Cognac anyway . . . sure, why not?
Brad had said he was no longer in the service, but that he had been an air force tech sergeant. That wasn't the kind of guy I usually dated, but I had liked his voice on the phone and decided to keep an open mind. When I got to the park for our date, I looked around for a blond man with a buzz cut and a military bearing. There was no one like that at the park-the only blond man was a gorgeous guy with hair almost to his shoulders. I thought, Now why can't a guy like that ask me out? ~ Then the gorgeous guy walked over to me and said, "Are you Jan?"
I immediately decided to give men another chance.
Cognac's enthusiastic greeting made our introductions easy. He jumped up on Brad's legs and ran in circles, wagging his whole body madly while trying to lick every part of Brad he could. We started to walk around the lake, and everybody we met fussed over the puppy. By the time we were halfway around the lake, Brad was holding Cognac's leash, and he and I were chatting away like old friends.
At the end of our walk, we weren't ready to say goodbye, so we found a cafe and picked an outdoor table so the puppy could be with us. From the very start, our relationship included Cognac.
Things went from good to better. One evening, three months later, Brad and I went to a restaurant that we liked for dinner. It was one of those places that have paper over the tablecloths and when they bring you the menu, they also bring crayons so that you can draw or writ e poetry while you're waiting for your meal. Brad and I always played Hangman while we waited and that night, we were playing our usual game. As I guessed the letters and the words started to form themselves, a sentence emerged: Will you marry me?
I gasped and turned towards Brad, "Are you kidding?"
Brad looked nervous, but his eyes were shining and he smiled at me. "No, I'm not kidding-what's your answer?"
I took a crayon and wrote a huge YES across the paper.
We sat grinning at each other for a few minutes and then began to plan our wedding.
From the start, we were sure about two things: We wanted an outdoor wedding and we wanted Cognac to be a part of the ceremony.
The day of the wedding dawned perfect and clear. Our families and friends gathered near the natural spring that we'd chosen as the spot where we would say our vows. My bridesmaids were dressed in rich purple gowns. I had on my wedding dress, and my heart felt as if it were overflowing with love and joy. Yet I was slightly apprehensive, wondering if we had lost our minds expecting Cognac, now ten months old and goofy in the way that only young dogs can be, to handle his responsibilities as ringbearer without creating chaos.
Cognac wore a white collar and a purple satin bow tie. My bridesmaids, who knew we had lost our minds having a dog at the ceremony, ran around with lint rollers, trying to keep their dark gowns free of golden hair-an almost impossible task.
Cognac's job was to carry a heart?shaped basket containing our rings to Brad. The basket held a heart?shaped pillow to which Brad had secured our rings with pieces of wire. This would prevent a disaster, in case Cognac decided to go for a swim in the spring, basket and all, instead of delivering it to Brad as we'd planned. As I began to walk to the aisle, in preparation for following the bridesmaids, I panicked. I realized I needed another hand! I held my bouquet in one hand, Cognac on his leash in the other, but I needed to hold the basket as well. If I gave the basket to Cognac to carry, he would take it as the signal to run to Brad, just as he'd been trained and I'd be dragged after him-spoiling the effect I'd had in my mind for my appearance on the scene.
Somehow I managed to get to the aisle, unhook
Cognac's leash and put the basket in his mouth. He was off like a shot, racing toward Brad with his beautiful golden ears streaming behind him, as if he was hot on the trail of a speeding rabbit. There was a swell of laughter as our guests appreciated the dedication of our furry ring- bearer.
When Cognac reached Brad, he dropped the basket at feet and, panting, looked up at Brad for approval. As Brad reached down to pick up the rings, a suddenly quiet Cognac solemnly raised his paw to meet my almost- husband's hand-a canine "Way to go, Brad."
Our guests, dog?lovers and non?dog?lovers alike, were completely undone and to this day, when anyone talks about our wedding they may not remember what year it was or what I was wearing, but they always mention the dog's pawshake.
For me, it was the perfect start to our new life together. Just the way I always dreamed it would be-Brad and me ... and Cognac.
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文篇二
Help from an Unexpected Source
It was March 29, 1944, and the twentieth mission for our B-17 crew. We were assigned to the 401st Squadron of the "Mighty Eighth" Air Force and flying out of a former Royal Air Force base at Bassingbourne, England. On that day, we were to lead an attack against an aircraft factory near Brunswick, Germany. On previous missions to this area, we had encountered fierce fighter opposition and were briefed now to expect more of the same. At this point in the war, our strategy was to destroy the Luftwaffe-in the air, on the ground and in the factories-in preparation for the planned D-Day landings.
The ten members of our crew had grown accustomed to the nervous tension that built up in our bodies during each mission, because many crews were being shot down during this period. We were given a detailed briefing on the weather, expected opposition from antiaircraft fire and fighter aircraft, survival techniques, etc. Then we gathered up our parachutes, helmets, flak vests and guns before going to our aircraft.
The ball of apprehension in our stomachs grew during this takeoff in our overloaded aircraft. As we climbed up to our bombing altitude of twenty-six thousand feet, the other five planes in the squadron that I was leading joined us. Over the English Channel, the guns were test-fired and radio checks completed. We sped toward our target and dropped our load.
After completing the bombing run, the formation made a sweeping left turn toward home. A crew member called our attention to a group of about fifty fighter aircraft at two o'clock, ahead and to our right, and slightly higher than our formation. We were always suspicious of any fighter aircraft, because our crafty enemy resorted to all types of ruses to draw our gunners' attention while others would then press in with an attack. Some familiar tricks were simulating friendly fighter tactics, mock dogfights, etc., while other enemy aircraft suddenly turned in to attack us.
However, these aircraft had the familiar P-51 black paint with white stripes on the wings and were equipped with the wing tanks for extra range. Suddenly, they dropped their tanks just off to our right, and we looked around for German fighters in the area. We found them, when the whole formation of "P-51s" turned out to be Luftwaffe ME-109s that turned in to us with their cannons blazing! We narrowly missed being rammed by two of them that just barely passed over us.
We couldn't escape being hit, with two ME-109s firing at us point-blank. Looking out the left window, I saw the left wing covered with a sheet of flame from the cockpit to the wing tip. Frank, in the ball turret, called on the interphone, "We're on fire!"
"Get out of there right away," I responded. Then without thinking-and because in the Flemish farm community near Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I grew up, it was the custom to joke under difficult circumstances-I added, "Come up here, and we'll have a wienie roast."
I didn't wait to hear if he was laughing, for I was watching the flames blow off of the back of the wing, except for those around the number-one engine, where they burned brightly around the cylinders. I immediately followed established procedures to extinguish the fire. If we didn't control it, it would mean bailing out-a prospect I didn't want to consider in this particular situation. It seemed to take forever, but the fire did go out. By then, friendly fighters had arrived to chase the enemy away, so we limped along safely behind the returning B-17 formations.
We "sweated out" the trip back home to England. Since our gasoline supply was low, we chose to remain near the surface to conserve fuel. We came over our home field at Bassingbourne at two hundred feet, made a tight pattern and were once again back on terra firma. The crew gave a huge collective sigh of relief.
The popular expression "There are no atheists in foxholes" applied to our B-17 as well. God spared us above Brunswick; I think we may have been the best-praying crew in the Eighth Air Force.
But it turned out that we had other help that day as well.
The flight surgeon grounded our crew for a week, because we had flown seven missions in the last nine days. Some of the crew spent this free time with the mechanics and armament specialists who were repairing our aircraft. They found that four cannon shells had exploded in the airframe, but they also found three more that, strangely, had not exploded. It gave all of us a nasty turn to realize what a truly close shave it had been. If any one of those shells had gone off, it could have been the end of us.
Two of the shells did not contain any explosives in them, but the third had some paper with a message where the explosives would have been. It took a while to find a translator to read the message; it was in Czech and was probably placed in the cannon shell in the Skoda armament plant in Prague, Czechoslovakia. The majority of the Czechoslovakian people resented German control, but many were forced to work in factories supporting the Nazi war effort. The message read, "THIS IS OUR WAY OF HELPING YOU."
Dr. Lester F. Rentmeester
Condensed from an article in Voyageur
December 2000
2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文篇三
A Thanksgiving Story
Help carry one another’s burdens and in this way you will obey the law of Christ.
It was the day before Thanksgiving -- the first one my three children and I would be spending without their father, who had left several months before. Now the two older children were very sick with the flu, and the eldest had just been prescribed bed rest for a week.
It was a cool, gray day outside, and a light rain was falling. I grew wearier as I scurried around, trying to care for each child: thermometers, juice, diapers. And I was fast running out of liquids for the children. But when I checked my purse, all I found was about $2.50 -- and this was supposed to last me until the end of the month. That’s when I heard the phone ring.
It was the secretary from our former church, and she told me that they had been thinking about us and had something to give us from the congregation. I told her that I was going out to pick up some more juice and soup for the children, and I would drop by the church on my way to the market.
I arrived at the church just before lunch. The church secretary met me at the door and handed me a special gift envelope. “We think of you and the kids often,” she said, “and you are in our hearts and prayers. We love you.” When I opened the envelope, I found two grocery certificates inside. Each was worth $20. I was so touched and moved, I broke down and cried.
“Thank you very much,” I said, as we hugged each other. “Please give our love and thanks to the church.” Then I drove to a store near our home and purchased some much-needed items for the children.
At the check-out counter I had a little over $14.00 worth of groceries, and I handed the cashier one of the gift certificates. She took it, then turned her back for what seemed like a very long time. I thought something might be wrong. Finally I said, “This gift certificate is a real blessing. Our former church gave it to my family, knowing I’m a single parent trying to make ends meet.“
The cashier then turned around, with tears in her loving eyes, and replied, “Honey, that’s wonderful! Do you have a turkey?”
“No. It’s okay because my children are sick anyway.”
She then asked, “Do you have anything else for Thanksgiving dinner?”
Again I replied, “No.”
After handing me the change from the certificate, she looked at my face and said, “Honey, I can’t tell you exactly why right now, but I want you to go back into the store and buy a turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie or anything else you need for a Thanksgiving dinner.”
I was shocked, and humbled to tears. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes! Get whatever you want. And get some Gatorade for the kids.”
I felt awkward as I went back to do some more shopping, but I selected a fresh turkey, a few yams and potatoes, and some juices for the children. Then I wheeled the shopping cart up to the same cashier as before. As I placed my groceries on the counter, she looked at me once more with giant tears in her kind eyes and began to speak.
“Now I can tell you. This morning I prayed that I could help someone today, and you walked through my line.” She reached under the counter for her purse and took out a $20 bill. She paid for my groceries and then handed me the change. Once more I was moved to tears.
The sweet cashier then said, “I am a Christian. Here is my phone number if you ever need anything.” She then took my head in her hands, kissed my cheek and said, “God bless you, honey.”
As I walked to my car, I was overwhelmed by this stranger’s love and by the realization that God loves my family too, and shows us his love through this stranger’s and my church’s kind deeds.
The children were supposed to have spent Thanksgiving with their father that year, but because of the flu they were home with me, for a very special Thanksgiving Day. They were feeling better, and we all ate the goodness of the Lord’s bounty -- and our community’s love. Our hearts were truly filled with thanks.
By Andra Nannette from Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul
看了“2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文”的人還看了：
It was the secretary from our former church, and she told me that they had been thinking about us and had something to give us from the congregation. I told her that I was going out to pick up some more juice and soup for the children, and I would drop by the church on my way to the market.
I arrived at the church just before lunch. The church secretary met me at the door and handed me a special gift envelope. “We think of you and the kids often,” she said, “and you are in our hearts and prayers. We love you.” When I opened the envelope, I found two grocery certificates inside. Each was worth . I was so touched and moved, I broke down and cried.
“Thank you very much,” I said, as we hugged each other. “Please give our love and thanks to the church.” Then I drove to a store near our home and purchased some much-needed items for the children.
At the check-out counter I had a little over .00 worth of groceries, and I handed the cashier one of the gift certificates. She took it, then turned her back for what seemed like a very long time. I thought something might be wrong. Finally I said, “This gift certificate is a real blessing. Our former church gave it to my family, knowing I’m a single parent trying to make ends meet.“
The cashier then turned around, with tears in her loving eyes, and replied, “Honey, that’s wonderful! Do you have a turkey?”
“No. It’s okay because my children are sick anyway.”
She then asked, “Do you have anything else for Thanksgiving dinner?”
Again I replied, “No.”
After handing me the change from the certificate, she looked at my face and said, “Honey, I can’t tell you exactly why right now, but I want you to go back into the store and buy a turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie or anything else you need for a Thanksgiving dinner.”
I was shocked, and humbled to tears. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes! Get whatever you want. And get some Gatorade for the kids.”
I felt awkward as I went back to do some more shopping, but I selected a fresh turkey, a few yams and potatoes, and some juices for the children. Then I wheeled the shopping cart up to the same cashier as before. As I placed my groceries on the counter, she looked at me once more with giant tears in her kind eyes and began to speak.
“Now I can tell you. This morning I prayed that I could help someone today, and you walked through my line.” She reached under the counter for her purse and took out a bill. She paid for my groceries and then handed me the change. Once more I was moved to tears.
The sweet cashier then said, “I am a Christian. Here is my phone number if you ever need anything.” She then took my head in her hands, kissed my cheek and said, “God bless you, honey.”
As I walked to my car, I was overwhelmed by this stranger’s love and by the realization that God loves my family too, and shows us his love through this stranger’s and my church’s kind deeds.
The children were supposed to have spent Thanksgiving with their father that year, but because of the flu they were home with me, for a very special Thanksgiving Day. They were feeling better, and we all ate the goodness of the Lord’s bounty -- and our community’s love. Our hearts were truly filled with thanks.
By Andra Nannette from Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul
看了“2016優(yōu)秀英語(yǔ)美文”的人還看了：