|
阅读理解-----B----(2017·郑州市二模，B) It was an autumn morning shortly after my husband and I moved into our first house. Our children were upstairs unpacking, and I was looking out of the window at my father moving around mysteriously on the front lawn. “What are you doing out there？” I called to him. He looked up, smiling, “I'm making you a surprise.” I thought it could be just about anything. When we were kids, he always created something surprising for us. Today, however, Dad would say no more, and caught up in the business of our new life, I eventually forgot about his surprise. Until one gloomy day the next March when I glanced out of the window, I saw a dot of blue across the yard. I headed outside for a closer look. They were crocuses (番红花) throughout the front lawn—blue, yellow and my favorite pink, with little faces moving up and down in the cold wind. I remembered the things Dad secretly planted last autumn. He knew how the darkness and dullness of winter always got me down. What could have been more perfectly timely to my needs? My father's crocuses bloomed (开花) each spring for the next five seasons, always bringing the same assurance: Hard times are almost over. Hold on, keep going, and light is coming soon. | 
