高中英语必读美文50篇(打印版)

高中英语必读美文50篇

(名师精选优美范文，提高英语语感，值得下载打印)

1

During summer vacations, I would volunteer at the vet’s, so I’d seen a lot of dogs. Minnie was by far the funniest-looking dog I’d ever seen. Thin curly hair barely covered her sausage-shaped body. Her bugged-out eyes always seemed surprised. And her tail looked like a rat’s tail.

She was brought to the vet to be put to sleep because her owners didn’t want her anymore. I thought Minnie had a sweet personality, though. "No one should judge her by her looks," I thought. So the vet spayed her and gave her the necessary shots. Finally, I advertised Minnie in the local paper: "Funny-looking dog, well behaved, needs loving family."

When a young man called, I warned him that Minnie was strange looking. The boy on the phone told me that his grandfather’s sixteen-year-old dog had just died. They wanted Minnie no matter what. I gave Minnie a good bath and fluffed up what was left of her scraggly hair. Then we waited for them to arrive.

At last, an old car drove up in front of the vet’s. Two kids raced to the door. They scooped Minnie into their arms and rushed her out to their grandfather, who was waiting in the car. I hurried behind them to see his reaction to Minnie.

Inside the car, the grandfather cradled Minnie in his arms and stroked her soft hair. She licked his face. Her rattail wagged around so quickly that it looked like it might fly off her body. It was love at first lick.

"She’s perfect!" the old man exclaimed.

I was thankful that Minnie had found the good home that she deserved.

That’s when I saw that the grandfather’s eyes were a milky white color - he was blind.

2

Tomorrow was his girlfriend’s birthday and the young man was having a difficult time deciding on a present for her. She already had more clothes than she knew what to do with them, so he couldn’t get any kind of apparel. She never ate sweets, so candy was out of the question. What then? He had a very special reason for wanting to impress her with just the right gift; tomorrow he was going to make an offer of marriage to her.

He finally decided on perfume . All girls liked perfume. That raised another problem, however. What kind did she prefer? He couldn’t ask her, because that would ruin the surprise.

At last the young man hit upon a brilliant idea. That afternoon, pretending to take his girl-friend’s fox terrier, little dog. Together, the young man and the dog went directly to the perfume counter of the town’s biggest department store. Good! There was a large array of perfume. He beckoned a clerk, instructing her to open a large number of bottles and wave the stoppers under the dog’s nose.

Nestled in the young man’s arms, the terrier began to be restless and bored as this seemingly pointless game went on. Then Fritz suddenly became frisky, wiggling in the yo ung man’s arms and barking excitedly, as the clerk waved one stopper under his nose.

“I’ll take that one,” said the young man to the clerk. The price was high; but it was worth it, he thought.

“My favorite perfume!” said the delighted girl the next evening as she unwrapped the package. “How did you know?” she asked, dabbing some perfume behind each ear.

“Intuition, I guess,” said the young man, deciding that it wasn’t exactly wrong to tell a lie under the circumstances. One day, after they were married, he would admit that his intuition had really been a little dog named Fritz.

3

My parents were in a huge argument, and I was really upset about it. I didn’t know who I should talk with about how I was feeling. So I asked Mom to allow me to stay the night at m y best friend’s house. Though I knew I wouldn’t tell her about my parents’ situation, I was looking forward to getting out of the house. I was in the middle of packing up my things when suddenly the power went out in the neighborhood. Mom came to tell me that I should stay with my grandpa until the power came back on.

I was really disappointed because I felt that we did not have much to talk about. But I knew he would be frightened alone in the dark. I went to his room and told him that I’d stay with him un til the power was restored. He was quite happy and said, “Great opportunity.”

“What is?” I asked.

“To talk, you and I,” he said. “To hold a private little meeting about what we’re going to do with your mom and dad, and what we’re going to do with ourselves now that we’re in the situation we are in.”

“But we can’t do anything about it, Grandpa,” I said, surprised that here was someone with whom I could share my feelings and someone who was in the same “boat” as I was

And that’s how the most unbelievable frie ndship between my grandfather and me started. Sitting there in the dark, we talked about our feeling and fears of life---from how fast things change, to how they sometimes

don’t change fast enough. That night, because the power went out, I found a new frie nd, with whom I could safely talk about all my fears and pains, whatever they may be.

Suddenly, the lights all came back on. “Well,” he said, “ I guess that means you’ll want to go now. I really like our talk. I hope the power will go out every few nights!”

4

I really love my job because I enjoy working with small children and like the challenges and awards from the job. I also think my work is important. There was a time when I thought I would never have that sort of career.

I wasn’t an excellent student because I didn’t do much schoolwork. In my final term I started thinking what I might do and found I didn’t have much to offer. I just accepted that I wasn’t the type to have a career.

I then found myself a job, looking after two little girls. It wasn’t to o bad at first. But the problems began when I agreed to live in, so that I would be there if my boss had to go out for business in the evening. We agreed that if I had to work extra hours one week, she’d give me time off the next. But unfortunately, it did n’t often work out. I was getting extremely tired and fed up, because I had too many late nights and early mornings with the children.

One Sunday, I was in the park with the children, and met Megan who used to go to school with me. I told her about my situation. She suggested that I should do a course and get a qualification if I wanted to work with children. I didn’t think I would be accepted because I didn’t take many exams in school. She persuaded me to phone the local college and they were really helpful. My experience counted for a lot and I got on a part-time course. I had to leave my job with the family, and got work helping out at a kindergarten.

Now I’ve got a full-time job there. I shall always be thankful to Megan. I wish I had known earlier that you could have a career, even if you aren’t top of the class at school.

Each of us fails from time to time. If we are wise, we accept these failures as a necessary part of the learning process.

5

Donnie was a shy, nervous perfectionist. His fear of failure kept him from classroom games that other children played with joyous excitement. He seldom answered questions -- he might be wrong. Written assignments, especially math, reduced him to nail-biting frustration. He seldom finished his work because he repeatedly checked with me to be sure he hadn't made a mistake.

Then one morning we were working math problems at the chalkboard. Pleased with their progress, I left the children with Mary Anne，my student teacher, and went for art materials. When I returned, Donnie

was in tears. He'd missed the third problem. Anne looked at me in despair. Suddenly her face brightened. She reached the drawer we shared for some pencils.

"See these pencils, Donnie?" she said, kneeling beside him and gently lifting the tear-stained face from his arms. "They belong to Mrs. Lindstrom and me. See how the erasers are worn? That's because we make mistakes too. Lots of them. But we erase the mistakes and try again. That's what you must learn to do, too." She kissed him and stood up. "Here," she said, "I'll leave one of these pencils on your desk so you'll remember that everybody makes mistakes, even teachers." Donnie looked up with love in his eyes and just a glimmer of a smile -- the first I'd seen on his face that year.

The pencil became Donnie's prized possession. That, together with Mary Anne's frequent encouragement and unfailing praise for even Donnie's small successes, gradually persuaded him that it's all right to make mistakes -- as long as you erase them and try again.

6

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with potato chips and root beer and started his journey.

When he stopped by in a park, he met an old woman. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so he offered her some chips. She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him.

Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered her a root beer. Again, she smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As twilight approached, the boy realized that he got to go back home. When the boy opened the door, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him,

"What did you do today that made you so happy?"

"I had lunch with God. You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and he asked,

"Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?"

"I ate potato chips in the park with God. You know, he's much younger than I expected."

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!

7

A few weeks ago, I followed a friend into an art-supply store. I found him picking out tubes of water-color paint, which surprised me because he’s not an artist.

“I signed up for a water-color class, and it starts next week,” he said sheepishly. “I don’t really have time for it, but it was on my list o f 50 things to do before I die, so I went for it.” This sounds interesting, “What else is on the list﹖” I asked him.

“All kinds of things,” he said. “Every few months I look at the list and decide what to focus on next. Before I had the list, I regretted a lot about what I was missing in my life. Now I just do stuff.”

“Can I see your list sometime﹖” I ask ed.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It reveals a lot about me. Write your own list, and you’ll see what I mean.”

So that night I did just that, and he was right. The list revealed a whole lot about what was important to me. It also revealed how hopelessly behind I am at getting to the things I really want.

Just writing the list helped me sort through some of my priorities. I filled up the first 20 blanks quickly, but then began to think carefully. Eventually I added items I’ve thought about for years, dreams I’ve carried with me since I was young, and things that I was longing for when I first heard about them.

I have a cousin who has accomplished an amazing string of interesting things. She told me the key was preparing the ground so that life could work in myst erious ways. “If you want your ship to come in, you must build a dock,” she said.

Thanks to my list, I’m working on some big docks.

8

Last night was the last game for my eight-year-old son’s soccer team. It was the final quarter. The score was two to one, my son’s team in the lead. Parents surrounded the playground, offering encouragement.

With less than ten seconds remaining, the ball suddenly rolled in front of my son’s teammate, Mickey. With shouts of “Kick it!” echoing across the playground, Mickey tur ned around and gave it everything he had. All around me the crowd erupted. Mickey had scored!

Then there was silence. Mickey had scored all right, but in the wrong goal, ending the game in a tie. For a moment there was a total hush. You see, Mickey has Down syndrome（唐氏综合症）and for him there is no such thing as a wrong goal. All goals were celebrated by a joyous hug from Mickey. He had even been known to hug the opposing players when they scored.

The silence was finally broken when Mickey, his face filled with joy, hugged my son tightly and shouted,“I scored! I scored. Everybody won! Everybody won!” For a moment I held my breath, not sure

how my son would react. I need not have worried. I watched, through tears, as my son threw up his hand in the classic high-five salute and started chanting, “Way to go Mickey! Way to go Mickey!” Within moments both teams surrounded Mickey, joining in the chant and congratulating him on his goal.

Later that night, when my daughter asked who had won, I smiled as I replied, “It w as a tie. Everybody won.”

9

Life whispers in your soul and speaks to your heart. Sometimes，when you don't have the time to listen... Life throws a brick at your head.

A young and successful CEO was traveling down a neighborhood street， going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. As his car passed，one child appeared，and a brick smashed into the Jag's side door. He slammed on the brakes and spun the Jag back to the spot from where the brick had been thrown.

He jumped out of the car，grabbed the kid and pushed him up against a parked car， shouting，"What was that all about and what the hell are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw gonna cost a lot. Why did you do it?"

“Please，mister，please，I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do!” pleaded the youngst er.

“It's my brother,” he said. “He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up.” Sobbing，the boy asked the executive， "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.”

Moved beyond words， the driver lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts，checking to see that everything was going to be okay.

"Thank you，sir. And God bless you，" the grateful child said to him. The man then watched the little boy push his brother to the sidewalk toward their home.

It was a long walk back to his Jaguar... a long，slow walk. He never did repair the side door. He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention.

10

Many say their most painful moments are saying good-bye to those they love. After watching Cheryl, my daughter-in-law, through the six long months her mother suffered towards death, I think the most painful moments can be in the waiting to say good-bye.

Cheryl made the two-hour trip over and over to be with her mother. They spent the long afternoons praying, soothing, comforting, and retelling their shared memories.

As her mother‘s pai n intensified and more medication was needed to ease her into sedation, Cheryl sat for hours of silent vigil by her mother‘s bed.

Each time she kissed her mother before leaving, her mother would tear up and say, "I‘m sorry you drove so far and sat f or so long and I didn‘t even wake up to talk with you."

Cheryl would tell her not to worry, it didn‘t matter, still her mother felt she had let her down and apologized at each good-bye until the day Cheryl found a way to give her mother the same reassurance her mother had given to her so many times.

"Mom, do you remember when I made the high school basketball team?" Cheryl‘s mother nodded. "You‘d drive so far and sit for so long and I never even left the bench to play. You waited for me after every game and each time I felt bad and apologized to you for wasting your time." Cheryl gently took her mother‘s hand.

"Do you remember what you would say to me?"

"I would say I didn‘t come to see you play, I came to see you."

"And you meant those words, didn‘t you."

"Yes, I really did."

"Well, now I say the same words to you. I didn‘t come to see you talk, I came to see you."

Her mother understood and smiled as she floated back into sleep.

Their afternoons together passed quietly into days, weeks, and months. Their love filled the spaces between their words. To the last day they ministered to each other in the stillness, love given and received just by seeing each other.

A love so strong that, even in this deepened silence that followed their last good-bye, Cheryl can still hear her mother‘s love.

11

One day, a poor boy who was trying to pay his way through school by selling goods door to door found that he only had one dime left. He was hungry so he decided to beg for a meal at the next house.

However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so she brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, “How much do I owe you?”

“You owe me nothing,” she replied. “Mother has taught me never to accept pay for a kindness.” As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but it also increased his faith. He was about to give up and quit before this point.

Years later the young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where specialists can be called in to study her rare disease. Dr. Howard Kelly, now famous, heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately, he rose and went down through the hospital hall into her room. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room and determined to do his best to save her life.

After a long struggle, the battle was won. However, when the bill was sent to her room, she was afraid to open it because she was positive that it would take the rest of her life to pay it off. Finally she looked, and the note on the side caught her attention.

“Paid in full with a glass of milk.”

Tears of joy flooded her eyes as she prayed silently: “Thank You, God. Your love has spread through human hearts and hands.”

12

Today we buried our 20-year-old son. He was killed instantly in a motorcycle accident on Friday night. How I wish I had known when I talked to him last that it would be the last time. If I had only known I would have said, "Jim, I love you and I‘m so very proud of you."

I would have taken the time to count the many blessings he brought to the lives of the many who loved him. I would have taken time to appreciate his beautiful smile, the sound of his laughter, his genuine love of people.

When you put all the good attributes on the scale and you try to balance all the irritating traits such as the radio which was always too loud, the haircut that wasn‘t to our liking, the dirty socks under the bed, etc., the irritations don‘t amount to much.

I won‘t get another chance to tell my son all I would have wanted him to he ar, but, other parents, you do have a chance. Tell your young people what you would want them to hear if you knew it would be your last conversation. The last time I talked to Jim was the day he died. He called me to say, "Hi, Mom! I just called to say I love you. Got to go to work. Bye." He gave me something to treasure forever.

If there is any purpose at all to Jim‘s death, maybe it is to make others appreciate more of life and to have people, especially families, take the time to let each other know just how much we care.

You may never have another chance. Do it today!

13

A friend of mine named Paul received an automobile from his brother as a Christmas present. On Christmas Eve when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it. "Is this your car, Mister?" he asked.

Paul nodded. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas." The boy was astounded. "You mean your brother gave it to you and it didn't cost you nothing? Boy, I wish..." He hesitated.

Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels.

"I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."

Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added, "Would you like to take a ride in my automobile?"

"Oh yes, I'd love that."

After a short ride, the boy turned and with his eyes aglow, said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front of my house?"

Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbors that he could ride home in a big automobile. But Paul was wrong again. "Will you stop where those two steps are?" the boy asked.

He ran up the steps. Then in a little while Paul heard him coming back, but he was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car.

"There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas and it didn't cost him a cent. And some day I'm gonna give you one just like it... then you can see for yourself all the pretty things in the Christmas windows that I've been trying to tell you about."

Paul got out and lifted the lad to the front seat of his car. The shining-eyed older brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a memorable holiday ride.

That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when he had said, "It is more blessed to give..."

14

A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.

“Daddy, please tell me, how much do you make an hour?” pleaded the little boy.

“If you must know, I make $20 an hour.”

“Oh,” the little boy replied, with his head down. Looking up, he said, “Daddy, may I please borrow $10?”

The father was furious, “If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish.”

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10 and he really didn't ask for money very often.

“I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier,” said the man, “It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $10 you asked for.”

The little boy sat straight up, smiling. “Oh, thank you daddy!” He yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at his father.

“Daddy, I have $20 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.”

15

“Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion.”

I'm still thinking about these words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to enojy, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.

"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their significance in my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write--one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.

I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and shine to our lives.

And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is ... a gift from God.

16

My friend Gayle has been "living" with cancer for four years and it is progressively getting worse. During a conversation with another friend, Gayle expressed that one of her childhood wishes was to have a red Radio Flyer wagon. As a child she never received one because she believed that if you told your birthday wish it wouldn't come true. I was at an ice cream stand one day and in the window was a miniature red Radio Flyer wagon that could be won in a weekly drawing. Every time you make a purchase you could fill out a ticket for a chance to win. After several weeks and many ice cream cones, I didn't win.

I got up the courage to ask the person in charge if I could buy one. I went to the window and as I began to tell my story, I could feel my throat tighten and my eyes overflowed with tears. Somehow I managed to explain my reason for wanting to purchase the wagon, and after writing a check, I left carrying it. The wagon was delivered the next day, and for Gayle it was dream come true. The following day I received a letter that read:

Dear Bonnie,

Every once in a while there is an opportunity to pass on a kindness – no questions asked. I lost my parents to cancer six months apart from each other. I cared for both of them but could not have done it without the love and generosity of friends – friends who care.

The best to you,

Norma

It was from the owner of the ice cream stand. Enclosed was my uncashed check

17

Be Still With God

All day long I had been very busy; picking up trash, cleaning bathrooms and scrubbing floors. My grown children were coming home for the weekend. I went grocery shopping and prepared for a barbecue supper, complete with ribs and chicken. I wanted everything to be perfect.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that I was dog-tired. I simply couldn't work as long as I could when I was younger. "I've got to rest for a minute," I told my husband, Roy, as I collapsed into my favorite rocking chair. Music was playing, my dog and cat were chasing each other and the telephone rang.

A scripture from Psalm 46 popped into my mind. "Be still, and know that I am God." I realized that I hadn't spent much time in prayer that day. Was I too busy to even utter a simple word of thanks to God?

Suddenly, the thought of my beautiful patio came to mind. I can be quiet out there, I thought. I longed for a few minutes alone with God.

Roy and I had invested a great deal of time and work in the patio that spring. The flowers and hanging baskets were breathtaking. It was definitely a heavenly place of rest and tranquility. If I can't be still with God in that environment, I can't be still with Him anywhere, I thought. While Roy was talking on the telephone, I slipped out the backdoor and sat down on my favorite patio chair. I closed my eyes and began to pray, counting my many blessings.

A bird flew by me, chirping and singing. It interrupted my thoughts. It landed on the bird feeder and began eating dinner as I watched. After a few minutes it flew away, singing another song.

I closed my eyes again. A gust of wind blew, which caused my wind chimes to dance. They made a joyful sound, but again I lost my concentration on God. I squirmed and wiggled in my chair. I looked up toward the blue sky and saw the clouds moving slowly toward the horizon. The wind died down. My wind chimes finally became quiet.

Again, I bowed in prayer. "Honk, honk," I heard. I almost jumped out of my skin. A neighbor was driving down the street. He waved at me and smiled. I waved back, happy that he cared. I quickly tried once again to settle down, repeating the familiar verse in my mind. Be still and know that I am God.

"I'm trying God. I really am," I whispered. "But you've got to help me here."

The backdoor opened. My husband walked outside. "I love you," he said. "I was wondering where you were." I chuckled, as he came over and kissed me, then turned around and went back inside.

"Where's the quiet time?" I asked God. My heart fluttered. There was no pain, only a beat that interrupted me yet again. This is impossible, I thought. There's no time to be still and to know that God is with me. There's too much going on in the world and entirely too much activity all around me.

Then it suddenly dawned on me. God was speaking to me the entire time I was attempting to be still. I remembered the music playing as I'd begun my quiet time. He sent a sparrow to lighten my life with song. He sent a gentle breeze. He sent a neighbor to let me know that I had a friend. He sent my sweetheart to offer sincere sentiments of love. He caused my heart to flutter to remind me of life. While I was trying to count my blessings, God was busy multiplying them.

I laughed to realize that the "interruptions" of my quiet time with God were special blessings He'd sent to show me He was with me the entire time.

18

Plant a Row for the Hungry

It was a cold night in Washington, D.C., and I was heading back to the hotel when a man approached me. He asked if I would give him some money so he could get something to eat. I'd read the signs: "Don't give money to panhandlers." So I shook my head and kept walking.

I wasn't prepared for a reply, but with resignation, he said, "I really am homeless and I really am hungry! You can come with me and watch me eat!" But I kept on walking.

The incident bothered me for the rest of the week. I had money in my pocket and it wouldn't have killed me to hand over a buck or two even if he had been lying. On a frigid, cold night, no less, I assumed the worst of a fellow human being.

Flying back to Anchorage, I couldn't help thinking of him. I tried to rationalize my failure to help by assuming government agencies, churches and charities were there to feed him. Besides, you're not supposed to give money to panhandlers.

Somewhere over Seattle, I started to write my weekly garden column for The Anchorage Daily News. Out of the blue, I came up with an idea. Bean's Cafe, the soup kitchen in Anchorage, feeds hundreds of hungry Alaskans every day. Why not try to get all my readers to plant one row in their gardens dedicated to Bean's? Dedicate a row and take it down to Bean's. Clean and simple.

We didn't keep records back then, but the idea began to take off. Folks would fax me or call when they took something in. Those who only grew flowers donated them. Food for the spirit. And salve for my conscience. In 1995, the Garden Writers Association of America held their annual convention in Anchorage and after learning of Anchorage's program, Plant a Row for Bean's became Plant a Row For The Hungry. The original idea was to have every member of the Garden Writers Association of America write or talk about planting a row for the hungry sometime during the month of April.

As more and more people started working with the Plant a Row concept, new variations cropped up, if you will pardon the pun. Many companies gave free seed to customers and displayed the logo, which also appeared in national gardening publications.

Row markers with the Plant a Row logo were distributed to gardeners to set apart their "Row for the Hungry."

Garden editor Joan Jackson, backed by The San Jose Mercury News and California's nearly year-round growing season, raised more than 30,000 pounds of fruits and vegetables her first year, and showed GWAA how the program could really work. Texas fruit farms donated food to their local food bank after being inspired by Plant a Row. Today the program continues to thrive and grow.

I am stunned that millions of Americans are threatened by hunger. If every gardener in America - and

we're seventy million strong - plants one row for the hungry, we can make quite a dent in the number of neighbors who don't have enough to eat. Maybe then I will stop feeling guilty about abandoning a hungry man I could have helped.

19

Butterfly Kisses

My newlywed husband said the same thing every morning. "You're beautiful today."

One glance in the mirror revealed that it was far from the truth.

A skinny girl with mashed hair on one side of her head and no makeup smiled back at me. I could feel my sticky morning breath.

“Liar,” I shot back with a grin.

It was my usual response. My mother's first husband was not a kind man and his verbal and physical abuse forced her and her two children to find a safe place. He showed up on her doorstep one day with roses. She let him in and he beat her with those roses and took advantage of her. Nine months later she gave birth to a 9 lb. 13 oz. baby girl -- me.

The harsh words we heard growing up took root. I had trouble seeing myself as someone of value. I had been married two years when I surprised myself. My husband wrapped his arms around me and told me I was beautiful.

“Thank you,” I said.

The same thin girl with the mousy brown hair still stared back at me in the mirror, but

A lot of years have passed. My husband has grey in his hair. I'm no longer skinny. Last week I woke up and my husband's face was inches from mine.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

I covered my mouth, trying to hide my morning breath. He reached down and kissed my face.

“What I do every morning,” he said.

He leaves in the early hours of the morning while I sleep. I miss our morning conversations, but I had not realized that he continued to tell me that he loved me even while I slept. When he left, I rolled over and hugged my pillow. I envisioned4 the picture of me lightly snoring with my mouth open and giggled.

What a man! My husband understands my past. He's been beside me as I've grown from an unsure young girl to a confident woman, mother, speaker and author.

But I'm not sure that he understands the part he played in that transition. The words I heard growing up pierced my soul, yet his words pierced even deeper.

This Anniversary Day I plan to wake early. I want to tell Richard how much I love him. He may look in the mirror and see an extra pound or two, or wish for the day when his hair was dark and curly, but all I'll see is the man who saw something in me when I couldn't see it myself, and who leaves butterfly kisses, even after twenty-three years of marriage.

20

The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for god to rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming. Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him from the elements, and to store his few possessions. But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky. The worst had happened; everything was lost. He was stunned with grief and anger. "God, how could you do this to me!" he cried. Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him. "How did you know I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers. "We saw your smoke signal," they replied. It is easy to get discouraged when things are going bad. But we shouldn’t lose heart, because god is at work in our lives, even in the midst of pain and suffering. Remember, next time your little hut is burning to the ground it just may be a smoke signal that summons the grace of god. For all the negative things we have to say to ourselves, god has a positive answer for it.

21

Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there, they serve some sort of purpose, to teach you a lesson or help figure out who you are or who you want to become. You never know who these people may be - your roommate, neighbor, professor, long lost friend, lover or even a complete stranger who, when you lock eyes with them, you know that very moment that they will affect your life in some profound way.

And sometimes things happen to you and at the time they may seem horrible, painful and unfair, but in reflection you realize that without overcoming those obstacles, you would have never realized your potential, strength, will power or heart. Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or by means of good or bad luck. Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness and sheer stupidity - all occur to test