книги / Striving For Happiness. I Am a Part of All that I Have Met
.pdfPhilippa: Er... yes. I think it's probably again quite difficult. My father died about ten years ago, and I'm the one who's left totally responsible for my mother. There's nobody else to help at all.
Interviewer: You have two children of your own. Was that a conscious decision because you decided that you didn't want one of your children to be an only child?
Philippa: Yes, very definitely. I didn’t want that to happen and I feel sorry for other children who are only children.
Interviewer: So all in all, being an only child is not something you'd recommend. Philippa: No, certainly not, no, no.
1.What are advantages and disadvantages of being an only child?
2.Are you an only child? If so, are you sorry you are?
3.Are children who have no brothers or sisters different from those who have them?
4.Do you agree with the scientists who say: "Being an only child is an illness"?
5.Do you agree with those who say: "An only child is a lonely child"?
6.How many children would you like to have when you have a family of your own?
Complicated Relationships
Read the story and the lyrics andformulate their moral.
The Little Girl
After K. Mansfield
The little girl was afraid of her father and always tried to keep away from him. Every morning her father came into her room and gave her a kiss, to which she said,
"Good-bye, father". And she was very glad when her father went away.
In the evening he came home and she heard his loud voice in the hall. "Bring my tea into the smoking-room... Hasn't the newspaper come yet?"
"Kezia," mother called to her, "if you are a good girl you can come down and take off father's boots." Slowly the girl went down the stairs, more slowly across the hall and opened the smoking-room door.
Her father had his spectacles on and looked at her over them, and the little girl was afraid.
"Well, Kezia, come here. Help me to take off these boots and take them outside. Have you been a good girl today?"
"I d-d-don't know father."
"You d-d-don't know? If you stutter like that mother will take you to the doctor."
She never stuttered with other people but only with her father, because then she was trying so hard to say the words properly.
"Here, Kezia, carry my cup back to the table - carefully; your hands tremble like an old lady's. And try to keep you handkerchief in you pocket, not in your hand."
"Y-y-yes, father."
On Sundays she sat with him in church while he sang in a loud clear voice. He was so big - his hands and his neck and his mouth. She thought he was a giant.
On Sunday afternoons grandmother sent her down to the drawing-room to have a "nice talk" with father and others. But the little girl always found that mother was reading a magazine and father, his handkerchief on his face, was sleeping on the sofa. She sat down on the chair and watched him until he woke and asked the time. Then he looked at her and said, "Don't look at me so, Kezia. You look like a little brown owl."
One day, when she was ill, grandmother said, "Your father's birthday will be next week. Will you make him a beautiful pincushion for a present?"
The little girl worked hard and sewed three sides of the pincushion. But she did not know what to fill it with. That was the question... The grandmother was out in the garden, and she went into her mother's bedroom to look for something. On the table she found many sheets of fine paper, took them, tore them into small pieces, and filled her case, then she sewed the fourth side.
In the evening father came home and could not find his speech. He asked the servants - but nobody knew anything about it. Then mother came into Kezia's room.
"Kezia, I think you didn't see some papers on a table in our room?" "Oh yes," she said. "I tore them up for my present."
"What!" cried mother. "Go to the drawing-room at once."
And she brought Kezia downstairs where father was pacing to and fro, his hands behind his back.
"Well?" he said sharply. Mother explained.
He stopped and looked at the child. "Did you do that?"
"N-n-no," she answered.
"Mother," he said, "bring me that pincushion and put the child to bed at once." The little girl lay in bed and cried.
Then father came into the room with a ruler in his hands. "I shall beat you for this," he said.
"Oh, no, no!" she cried.
"Sit up," he said, "and hold out your hands. You must know once and for all not to touch what does not belong to you."
"But it was for your b-b-birthday." Down came the ruler on her little hands.
Hours later, when the grandmother came into Kezia's room, the crying child asked, "What did God make fathers for?"
"Sleep, my child, you will forget all about it in the morning. I tried to explain to father, but he didn't want to listen to me tonight."
But the child did not forget. When she saw father she always put both hands behind her back and her cheeks became red.
The Macdonalds lived in the next house. They had five children. Kezia used to look through the hole in the fence.
The children often played with their father. He put the little boy Mac on his back and two little girls ran round him and laughed.
Then she decided that there were different sorts of fathers.
Suddenly, one day, mother became ill, and she and grandmother went to town.
The little girl was alone in the house with Alice, the servant. That was all right in the daytime, but while Alice was putting her to bed she became suddenly afraid.
"What shall I do if I have a bad dream?" she asked. "I often have bad dreams and then grandmother takes me into her bed. I can't stay in the dark"
"Go to sleep, child," said Alice, "don't cry or you will wake your poor father."
But that night she had a bad dream and cried, "Grandma, grandma!" When she woke she saw her father beside her bed, a lamp in his hand. "What is the matter?" he said.
"Oh, a bad dream - 1 want grannie."
Father took her in his arms and carried her to the big bedroom. A newspaper was on the bed. He threw it on the floor, then carefully put the child into the bed and lay down be side her. Half asleep she moved close to him. Father was very tired and he slept before the little girl. "Poor father!" she thought. "Not so big after all and there is nobody to look after him. And every day he must work and is too tired to be like Mr. Macdonald. How could I tear his papers..." She sighed...
"What is the matter?" asked father. "Another dream?"
"Oh," said the little girl, "my head is on your heart, I can hear it. What a big heart you have, father, dear."
Cat's In The Cradle
After Harry Chapin
My child arrived just the other day. He came to the world in the usual way.
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay. He learned to walk while I was away.
And he was talking 'fore I knew it And as he grew, he'd say,
"I'm going to be like you, Dad.
You know I’m going to be like you."
CHORUS:
And the cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man in the moon. "When are you coming home, Dad?"
"I don't know when.
But we'll get together then, son.
You know we'll have a good time then."
Well, my son turned ten just the other day.
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad. Come on, let's play.
Can you teach me to throw?"
I said, "Not today. I've got a lot to do."
He said, "That's okay."
And then he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, "I'm going to be like him, yeah.
You know, I'm going to be like him."
CHORUS:
And the cat's in the cradle and a silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man in the moon. "When are you coming home, Dad?"
"I don't know when.
But we'll get together then, son.
You know we'll have a good time then."
Well, he came from college just the other day, So much like a man I just had to say,
"Son, I'm proud of you. Can you sit for awhile?" He shook his head and he said with a smile,
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See you later,
Can 1 have them, please?"
CHORUS:
And the cat’s in the cradle and a silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man in the moon. "When are you coming home, Son?"
"I don't know when.
But we'll get together then, Dad.
You know we'll have a good time then."
Well, I've long since retired, my son's moved away.
I called him up just the other day.
I said, "I'd like to see you.
If you don't mind."
He said, "I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time.
You see, my new job's a hassle and the kids have the flu.
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad.
It’s been sure nice talking to you."
And as he hung up the phone,
It occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me.
My boy was just like me.
CHORUS:
And the cat’ s in the cradle and a silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man in the moon. "When are you coming home, Son?"
"I don't know when.
But we'll get together then, Dad. We're going to have a good time then."
While growing up children and teenagers get some experience which is not always positive. For example, early pregnancy, alcohol and drug abuse. Some teenages don’t realise the value of life and make attempts or even commit suicide. Such things worry their parents.
Drinking Alcohol
Seventy-three percent of 13 to 14-year old children interviewed in Great Britain said they had had an alcoholic drink. As many as 55 percent of 10 to 12-year-olds said they had tried alcohol, and 45 percent of 7 to 9-year-olds.
Experimentation with alcohol begins at an early age typically in a form of a glass of wine shared with parents. "I could live without alcohol," said Sharon O’Dea, 15. "But if you go to a party, it’s better than taking drugs".
Being A Teenage Mother
Each year in England 90 000 girls get pregnant. 2 200 of these are under 14, and 7 700 are under 16 years old. The dramatic situation with teenage pregnancies in the UK is largely due to the lack of sex education, general education and appropriate family support, as most teenage mothers come from poorly educated and deprived families.
Being a teenage mother is not easy. Some pregnant teenage girls decide to have an abortion or give their babies up for adoption. However, some decide to go all the way as 16-year-old Jane Taylor who tells her story:
"Before I got pregnant 1 hated school, concentrating on my social life instead. Every night I would go out drinking and clubbing. Since the birth of my son, Tom, my life has changed. I have realised that having a baby means a lot of responsibility and I now want to do well at school and maybe go to college or university afterwards. However, it is not easy to do with a baby."
Although all's well that ends well, as in Jane's story, isn’t having a baby at an early age a too high price to pay for learning to be responsible and mature? Is it wrong to have an abortion? There are no right or wrong answers to these questions, so you need to find the answers yourself - what do you think?
Drug Abuse
Read the story.
The Last Phone Call
After Tracy Barnes
"Thank goodness it's Friday and there's a bank holiday weekend coming up", Jim thought to himself as he put the receiver back onto the green phone. He'd never liked green. It was his most hated colour, and here he was in an office surrounded by green furniture, green curtains, green carpets and even a green phone. He looked at the phone with hatred. For two weeks now he'd had so many hoax calls that he'd lost count. The calls were from school kids with nothing better to do. The kids would ring him up and report thefts and arson and all sorts of things that they'd claim they'd done but that really only happened in their vivid imaginations. Jim was so used to the calls by now that he took them with a pinch of salt. This last one, had stirred him slightly though. He'd never had a call about drugs before. But he and his men had put so much time and effort into these "fake" phone calls that he quickly dismissed this latest one as being the same as the others.
Thinking of school kids turned Jim's mind to his eldest daughter, Hayley. She was fifteen and so rebellious that he sometimes wondered if she was his daughter at all. He did so much for her, gave her everything, and he got absolutely nothing in return. Jim just couldn't fathom it at all. His other children were completely different. They were good and obedient and never in trouble but Hayley: she was so... so... He couldn't explain the feeling he had. Anyway, he'd got a trip to the sea lined up for them this weekend as a surprise. The change of scenery would do them all good, especially Hayley.
***
The distant ringing of a telephone woke Jim from his deep sleep. He fumbled for the receiver and placed it to his ear.
"An awful fire ...," he heard, his colleague say,"... group of kids ... four dead ... using drugs..."
The words rang in Jim's head. He leaped out of bed and got dressed. Before leaving the house he decided to check on the children to see that the telephone had not disturbed them. Jim crept down the hall, slowly opening each door one by one. When he came to Hayley's door it was already open. He pushed it a bit further. The bed was empty. Hayley was nowhere in sight. Where could she have gone at this time of night, and why? What a night this was turning out to be.
Committing Suicide
Read the story.
The Word I Hate
A few years ago, my life changed completely. From that time on, 1 simply could not live in the way I had done before.
I had a friend, a real friend. We were in the same grade. We used to go to parties. We both laughed a lot and had scads of tacos and pizzas. We almost simultaneously picked up boyfriends. And those bastards walked out on us. I didn't grieve much about it, but with my friend Jane it was different. She began to swallow heaps of worry-obliterating dope. I could do nothing about it. She simply wouldn't listen. Then the depression came. I understand it now, but back then I didn't know what it was all about.
Jane didn’t wanna go to school 'cos she hated the very idea of seeing that snobbish ex-boyfriend of hers. She didn't wanna go out. She simply stopped living.
That lousy ex-boyfriend of hers must've been blind. He was nothing special at all. Why she'd picked him up I have never been able to understand. He wore smart rags, an icy watch and changed his trainers every two weeks. But I heard he smoked weed and I told Jane about it. "I don't give a damn," was her answer.
It was then that she shared her secret plan with me. Jane's dad was in no less depression than herself. He cared about her a lot. Jane was not only cute but brainy too: one of the smartest in our class.
She kept everything secret, though, which only added to her dad's grief. Anyway, one day she said she was going to end her life. First I thought she was kidding but she was quite serious and determined.
"I'm going to slice them." She showed me her wrists. "It's better than pills or throwing yourself under a truck." There was a moment's silence after which she said, "I'll do it my own way. I know how. I read it in a story. Could you let me do it in your apartment? My parents are always in and yours like to go out almost every night."
I didn't know what to say. Frankly, I was tom between fear and morbid curiosity. I saw it as a game or as a movie. I didn't believe she could do it. Suicide. The word stuck in my mind ever since Jane told me of her plan. I knew my parents were going to their friends' place for the weekend. So that decided it. "OK," I said. "Come over to my place. But I must see the whole thing."
She looked at me suspiciously. "You aren't gonna let me down and dial 911, are you?" "Noway, I promise," I replied.
The rest was just dim snapshots: my empty apartment, the warm bath, the razor blade, the blood, and then blackness. I fainted. I couldn't stand the sight of blood streaming down her suddenly white hand.
When I came to, I found myself on a couch in the sitting room. Nearby, a woman was bandaging Jane's hand. Thank God, my elder brother Harry came back home earlier than usual and saw both of us half-dead in the bathroom.
Why am I telling you all this? I don’t know. Maybe it's a way of getting release. One thing is for sure: I hate the word suicide. I know I do.
Scads - many
Taco - a Mexican dish
Smart rags - (slang) fashionable clothes An icy watch - a watch with diamonds I don’t give a damn - 1 don’t care
To be kidding - to be joking
To come to - to regain consciousness
4.Why is the father's reaction especially sharp?
5.Is it necessary for children and parents to part and if yes, what's the appropriate time for it?
6.Is it different for sons and daughters? How and why?
7.What are advantages and disadvantages of living with parents?
8.What problems do young adults have when they live with their parents?
9.Should young adults live with their parents until they get married? Why or why not?
A Time To Leave
It was one of those wet and windy days that you can so often get in the middle of an English summer. Clouds hung over the rough sea and the empty beach and over the shops and hotels of the small seaside town. From the large window of the Surfer's Shop Julie looked dreamily across the bay and the yellow sand of the surfer's beach. It seemed unbelievable, but there were actually surfers in the water. Protected in their rubber suits, they rode on the waves through the bad weather and the rain. Julie felt cold just watching. She turned away and looked at the long line of television screens on a shelf over the surfing equipment. That was more her world: California beaches, blue skies, young girls and boys enjoying the long, sunny days. She wondered whether people really lived like that or was the television video selling her and the customers just another dream? Reality was a cold day in Cornwall. Tim White, the owner of the shop, was working in his small office. There were no customers in the shop, so Julie decided to talk to him.
"When was the last time you went surfing, Tim?" she asked.
"So long ago I can't remember," he said. "That's the trouble with life. Either you have no work, lots of time and no money, or you have lots of work, money and no time."
"Were you a good surfer?" "One of the best," he said.
She looked at his large stomach and round well-fed face. "I can't imagine it," she said with a laugh.
"Don't be so cheeky," he said. "Assistants should show more respect for their employers." Just then the door opened and a couple of young people came in.
"I'd love to discuss that with you," she said, "but unfortunately we've got some customers."
Sometimes during her lunch hour, if she wanted to be alone, Julie walked down to the harbour and watched the boats. In Julie's town, people still lived from the sea. The rain had now stopped and blue sky appeared between the clouds. The harbour was popular with the tourists. They liked to look at the boats and feed the birds. Few came here early in the morning when the whole place stank of dead fish. A couple of boys from her class had become fishermen. They were now working with their fathers or training with a lo cal captain. It was a rough, uncomfortable life, with hard work and low wages. It wasn't something she could do. Julie sat on an empty box. She wondered what she could do. School had finished so suddenly. She had known it would happen one day, but she had never prepared for her new life properly. The summer holidays had started as usual, but she and her friends had not gone back when they were over. Now she was working in the Surfer's Shop. It was like one of the part-time jobs she had done on a Saturday, but now it lasted all week. She could hardly say she was happy. But her friends didn't seem to be happy either. She stood up to walk back to the town centre. Why couldn't Tim open a new shop in California, she thought, and ask her to be the manager? Or even an assistant? But Tim's plans weren't going in that direction.
