文章摘要：lIbetakentothegaschambertonight?BackandforthIwalknexttothebarbedwirefence,tryingtokeepmyemaciatedbodywarm.Iamhungry,butIhavebeenhungryforlongert……以下是小编为大家整理的关于爱英语作文，希望对你有所帮助！
It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?
Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry, but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear, the happy past seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands, that she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.
Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long has it been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.
The next day, I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.
And again, she comes. And again, she brings me an apple, flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.
This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.
For seven months, we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.
One day, I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend. The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple tomorrow," I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see me standing there, with tears streaming down my face.
Months pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, I taste those apples.
And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life. Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.
"Where were you during the war?" Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.
"I was in a concentration camp in Germany," I reply.
Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy."
Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other-after all, we were young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could-but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."
With my heart pounding so loudly I think it wil1 explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, "And did that boy say to you one day, 'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'?"
"Why, yes," Roma responds, her voice trembling.
"But, Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?"
I take her hands in mine and answer, "Because I was that young boy, Roma."
For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other, and as the veils of time lift, we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving, whom we have never stopped remembering.
Finally, I speak: "Look, Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now, I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?"
I see that same twinkle in her eye that I used to see as Roma says, "Yes, I will marry you," and we embrace, the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us. Now, nothing ever will again.
Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.
Valentine's Day, 1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:
"Darling, you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry, for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."
Nowadays many parents have a common sense that their children are so precious to them so they always try their best to give their children a happy and meaningful life. Therefore, an increasing number of parents spoil their children and do everything for them, even control their life. For example, many children have to obey their parent' s idea about which school they should go into after they graduating; some children must go to art class like dancing, piano and paint even though they have no interest in them; what' s more, some strict parents even involve children' s freedom about what friends they should make. On one hand, these parents care and protect their children, however, on the other hand they may do harm to their children.
As far as I am concerned, in is necessary that parents should give their children more space and freedom so that their children may become more independent. For instance, children could do something they like, so they may be much more active and responsible. What' s more, it is also a good way to let their children study in a boarding school for children must face something by their own, such as, their relationship with friends and student, their study and busy life and so on. A good case in point, parents may encourage their children to take part-time jobs during summer or winter holiday. By doing this, I believe, these children may become more independent, brave and responsible.
In summary, spoiling children is no right. Parents should know better that an independent, responsible and brave person is able to adapt society better.
（The Difference between Love and Like ）
爱和喜欢的区别(the difference between love and like )
in front of the person you love, your heart beats faster, but in front of the person you like, you get happy.
in front of the person you love, winter seems like spring, but in front of the person you like, winter is just beautiful winter.
if you look into the eyes of the one you love, you blush, but if you look into the eyes of the person you like, you smile.
if front of the person you love, you can’t say everything on your mind, but in front of the person you like, you can.
in front of the person you love, you tend to get shy, but in front of the person you like, you can show your own self.
you can’t look straight into the eyes of the one you love, but you can always smile into the eyes of the one you like.
when the one you love is crying, you cry with him, but when the one you like is crying, you end up comforting.
the feeling of love starts from the eye, and the feeling of like starts from the ears.
so if you stop liking a person you used to like, all you need to do is cover your ears. but if you try to close your eyes, love turns into a teardrop and remains in your heart forever after.
Only in the baby from crying wah-wah， that we invoke the first words whispered parents learn to walk the first time to walk small foot staggering along. The first time carrying a bag to school， the first test scores back， the first from their parents ... ... maybe you've never noted this many times in the first， in the growth of this long road to the parents how much to pay into the How much love. Every time you smile， every success， and even failed every time， every mistake in the minds of parents will never forget， to accompany you around， give you the support of silence ... ...
We come from? To hear this issue， I am sure you will say that parents bring us up in the world. Yes ah， the day thirteen years ago， our parents with tears， smiles and happiness to greet our arrival. We came to the world from the moment that many parents have a heavy work - to take care of us. Although this is a heavy burden， but the baby's "Wah-Wah" bring to the nursery， we grow up， parents spend much of the effort and sweat， how many days and nights weaving， parents have no complaints.
Small， I always love their parents as a matter of course， because I do not understand the hard work their parents do not know. Now， I grew up， and I know with a heart of Thanksgiving to appreciate their parents， should take care， the responsibility of your parents.
But how many people is to give top priority to the parents then? Some people always complain about their parents to do Oh， no， that does not， the behavior of parents and practices of selectivity， to accuse， or even directly contradict with their parents! Some people do not know their own physical health status of parents， parents do not remember their birthday， and some even their own parents in the work units which do not know， to think of it， parents pay so much for our energy and efforts ah!
When we are confronted with difficulties， to devote all of the people to help us parents.
When we are wronged， to be patient to listen to our cry of the people， are the parents.
When we make mistakes， we can not hesitate to forgive us， and parents.
When we succeed， would like for us to celebrate， to share with us the joy of the parents.
Now we are far in the field study， we remain concerned about their parents.
Life is not imagined as the perfect parents for their hard that we can not understand， although we can not live with their parents to share the hardships of a difficult start， but we can be less in their daily lives for their parents to worry about. When parents fall ill， we should be taking responsibility， taking care of their parents? To know that even if an interest in words， even a good hot bowl of instant noodles themselves， their parents， who will comfort the hearts of our anxiety in every possible way.
Thanksgiving heart of life is better， life is like a piece of white paper， with the heart of Thanksgiving， this paper will be pink. Thanksgiving embrace of life， the background paper is also pink， and will have a better life.
If today is my last day of life， we are the first thing to do is to return education to take care of me my parents! "The water-en， when the springs of newspaper." Parents not to mention the efforts we have not just "drop"， but a vast ocean.
Thanksgiving， although it is an act of the verb， but it needs more action， more importantly， needs to be done in good faith. To put it simply， Thanksgiving is gratitude， gratitude from the heart.
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