高中英语Unit1Schoollife英美文化欣赏教案牛津译林版必修1

英美文化欣赏

[导读] 《母亲的礼物》是广大英语爱好者们津津乐道的一部图书。书中通过作者回忆儿时与母亲在一起的点点滴滴，真正明白了在一个人成长的不同时期，母亲的陪伴和鼓励才是人世间最美的礼物。阅读下面有关作者三年级参加演出时的一次经历的节选，对比中外文化中对母爱理解的异同。

My Mother's Gift

Suzanne Chazin

I grew up in a small town where the elementary school was a ten-minute walk from my house and in an age，not so long ago，when children could go home for lunch and find their mother waiting.

At the time，I did not consider this a luxury，although today it certainly would be.I took it for granted①that mothers were the sandwich-makers，the finger-painting appreciations and the homework monitors.I never questioned that this ambitious，intelligent woman，who had had a career before I was born and would eventually return to a career，would spend almost every lunch hour throughout my elementary school years just with me.

I only knew that when the noon bell rang，I would race breathlessly② home.My mother would be standing at the top of the stairs，smiling down at me with a look that suggested I was the only important thing she had on her mind.For this，I am forever grateful.

One lunch time when I was in the third grade will stay with me always.I had been picked to be the princess in the school play，and for weeks my mother had painstakingly ③ rehearsed(排练，排演)my lines with me.But no matter how easily I delivered④ them at home，as soon as I stepped on stage，every word disappeared from my head.

Finally，my teacher took me aside.She explained that she had written a narrator's part to the play，and asked me to switch roles.Her words，kindly delivered，still stung，especially when I saw my part go to another girl.

I didn't tell my mother what had happened when I went home for lunch that day.But she sensed my unease，and instead of suggesting we practice my lines，she asked if I wanted to walk in the yard.

I watched my mother casually bend down by one of the clumps，“I think I'm going to dig up all these weeds，”she said，yanking(使劲拉)a blossom，up by its roots.“From now on，we'll have only roses in this garden.”

“But I like dandelions，”I protested.“All flowers are beautiful—even dandelions.”

My mother looked at me seriously.“Yes，every flower gives pleasure in its own way，doesn't it？”she asked thoughtfully.I nodded，please that I had won her over.“And that is true of people too，”she added.“Not everyone can be a princess，but there is no shame⑤ in that.”

Relieved that she had guessed my pain，I started to cry as I told her what had happened.She listened and smiled reassuringly(使人安心地).

“But you will be a beautiful narrator，”she said，reminding me of how much I loved to read stories aloud to her.“The narrator's part is every bit as important as the part of the princess.”

Over the next few weeks，with her constant encouragement，I learned to take pride in the role.Lunch times were spent reading over my lines and talking about what I would wear.

Backstage the night of the performance，I felt nervous.A few minutes before the play，my teacher came over to me.“Your mother asked me to give this to you，”she said，handing me a dandelion.Its edges were already beginning to curl and it flopped (垂下)lazily from its stem.But just looking at it，knowing my mother was out there and thinking of our lunchtime talk，made me proud.

After the play，I took home the flower I had stuffed(塞) in the apron of my costume.My mother pressed it between two sheets of paper toweling in a dictionary，laughing as she did it that we were perhaps the only people who would press such a sorry-looking weed.

I often look back on our lunchtimes together，bathed in the soft midday light.They were the commas in my childhood，the pauses that told me life is not savored(品味) in pre-measured increments(增长)，but in the sum of daily rituals(惯例) and small pleasures we casually share with loved ones.Over peanut-butter sandwiches and chocolate-chip cookies，I learned that love.First and foremost，means being there for the little things.

A few months ago，my mother came to visit.I took a day off work and treated her to lunch.The restaurant bustled(忙忙碌碌) noontime activity as businesspeople made deals and glanced at their watches.In the middle of all this sat my mother，now retired，and I．From her face I could see that she relished (喜爱)the pace of the work world.

“Mom，you must have been terribly bored staying at home when I was a child，”

I said.

“Bored？Housework is bo ring.But you were never boring.”

I didn't believe her so I pressed.“Surely children are not as stimulating as

a career.”

“A career is stimulating.”she said.“I'm glad I had one.But a career is like an open balloon.It remains inflated only as long as you keep pumping.A child is a seed.You water it.You care for it the best you can.And then it grows all by itself into a beautiful flower.”

Just then，looking at her，I could picture⑥ us sitting at her kitchen table once again，and I understood why I kept that flaky(易破碎的) brown dandelion in our old family dictionary pressed between two crumpled(皱，扭曲) bits of paper towel.

母亲的礼物

苏珊妮·查馨我是在一个小镇上长大的，从镇上的小学校到我家只需要步行十分钟。在距今不算太久远的那个时代，小学生可以回家吃午饭，而他们的母亲则会老早在家等候着。

这一切对如今的孩子来说，无疑是一种奢望，可是那时的我，却并不以为然。我觉得母亲给孩子做三明治、鉴赏指画和检查家庭作业都是理所当然的事。我母亲既有抱负，又很聪明。在我出生之前，她有份工作，而且她最终要重新谋份差事。可是，在我上小学那几年，她竟然放弃了工作，几乎天天陪着我吃午饭。她为什么要那样，我从来没有去想过，也丝毫不感到有什么奇怪。

我只知道中午放学铃声响，就一口气往家跑。母亲总是站在门前最高的那级台阶上，笑盈盈地望着我——那神情分明表示：我是母亲心目中唯一最重要的。为此，我一辈子都对母亲感激不尽。

我永远忘不了在我上三年级时的那顿午饭。原本我被学校选中，要在一个即将演出的小剧中扮演公主的角色。一连好几个礼拜，母亲总是不辞辛劳地陪着我一起背诵台词。可是，不管在家里背得怎么滚瓜烂熟，只要一上舞台，我的脑子里就成了一片空白。

最终，老师把我叫到了一边。她说剧中解说员这个角色的台词已写好了，想让我替换下来当解说员。尽管老师这些话说得和和气气，可是还是刺痛了我的心，特别是当我发觉自己扮演的公主角色让另一个女孩顶替时，更是如此。

那天回家吃午饭时，我没有把这事告诉母亲。然而，母亲察觉到我心神不定。因此，母亲没有再提练习背台词的事儿，而是问我愿意不愿意到院子里散散步。

我看到母亲在一簇花丛旁漫不经心地弯下腰来。“我看得把这些野草都拔了，”她说，一边使劲把一丛蒲公英连根拔起，“往后我们这园子里只长蔷薇花。”

“可是我喜欢蒲公英，”我不满地说，“凡是花都好看——蒲公英也不例外。”

母亲严肃地看着我。“噢，这么说每朵花都有赏心悦目的地方喽？”她若有所思地问道。我点了点头，总算说服了母亲，这使我很得意。“可是人也一样呀！”母亲接着又发话，“不见得人人都能当公主，但当不了公主并不丢脸。”

母亲猜到了我的苦恼，这使我情绪安定下来，我哭了起来，把事情的经过讲给母亲听。母亲专注地听着，脸上带着安详的微笑。

“但你会成为一名很好的解说员。”母亲又说。她说平常我是多么喜欢朗诵故事给她听，还说：“从哪方面看，解说员这个角色都和公主的角色一样重要。”

往后的几个星期，在母亲的一再鼓励下，我渐渐地为担任旁白的角色感到骄傲。利用午饭的时间，我们又一起念台词，议论到时我该穿什么样的演出服装。

演出的那个晚上，我在后台，心里格外紧张。离演出只差几分钟了，老师走了过来。“你母亲让我把这个交给你，”说着她递过来一朵蒲公英。那花儿四周已开始卷曲，花瓣儿从梗上有气无力地下垂着。可是，只要看一眼，知道母亲就在外面等着，回想起和母亲用午饭时说的那些话，我就感到胸有成竹。

演出结束后，我把塞在演出服围裙里的那朵蒲公英带回了家。母亲用两张纸巾将花压平，夹在一本字典里。她一边忙碌一边笑，想到也许只有我们俩会珍藏这么一朵不起眼的野花。

我常常回忆起在和煦的阳光下和母亲共进午餐的那些美好时光。它们是我孩提时代经历的一件件平常小事，也就是那些平常小事使我明白了一个道理：人生的意义不在于个人的欲望能够一个接一个实现，而在于能够和我们所爱的人一起轻轻松松地过着平平常常的生活，分享每一个细小的欢乐。在享用母亲做的花生酱三明治和巧克力碎末甜饼的时候，我懂得了，爱就体现在这些细微之处。

几个月前，母亲来看我。我特意请了一天的假陪母亲吃午饭。饭馆里挤满了忙忙碌碌的人，商人们一边谈生意，还一边不时地看一看手表。如今已经退休的母亲和我就坐在这群人中间。从母亲的表情中，我看得出，母亲打心眼里喜欢上班族这种生活的节奏。

“妈，我小的时候，您老待在家里一定觉得很烦吧。”我说。

“烦？做家务是令人心烦的，不过你从来没有使我感到心烦过。”

我不相信这是实话，于是我又想法子套她的话：“看孩子哪会像工作那样富有刺激性呢！”

“工作是富有刺激性，”母亲答道，“很高兴我也有过工作。可是工作好比开了口的气球，你只有不停地充气，它才能鼓着劲。可是一个孩子就是颗种子。你浇灌它，全心全意地爱护它。然后，它就会自然而然地开出美丽的花朵来。”

此时此刻，我凝视着母亲，脑海里又浮现儿时和母亲一起坐在饭桌旁的情景，同时也明白了我为什么仍要把那朵已经变成棕色、一碰就碎的蒲公英用两片皱纸巾夹起来，珍藏在祖传的那本旧字典里。

[知识积累]

1．take...for granted 认为……想当然；

不把……当回事

2．breathlessly adv. 气喘吁吁地

3．painstakingly adv. 煞费苦心地

4．deliver v. 发表演讲

5．shame n. 羞愧，羞耻，惭愧

6．picture v. 想象，构想

[文化链接]

在《母亲的礼物》这篇文章中，对礼物的理解呈递进式的。放学后母亲的耐心等候、亲手烹饪、共进午餐，是儿时母亲礼物的最佳诠释；三年级参加演出遭遇角色调换后的心情沮丧之时，母亲的善解人意与合理聪明的疏导方式造就了人世间最美的礼物；陪伴苦心排练以及演出之后的蒲公英相赠，用母爱之礼物告知孩子珍惜美好点滴。