I looked over my grandma’s shoulder as she sewed pieces of cloth together. The two pieces became one faster than I’d imagined. The colors, however, looked ugly when put together and none of the patterns matched. All the patches (补丁) on this blanket seemed to disagree.

“Grandma, that’s the ugliest quilt (棉被) I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s warm and beautiful,” said Grandma, pointing to a pile of crazy patterned shirts and suits.“I can take these old clothes that you and I will never wear again and turn them into something useful and good. It’s not the quilt’s appearance but the love that sews it together that makes it beautiful. This quilt will keep you warm on a cold night like tonight. And I know that for a fact.” Grandma put her hand on my shoulder, “Not everyone is as lucky as we are. Here, put on your coat. We’ll get a second opinion about how ugly my quilts are.”

Grandma folded a finished quilt and tucked it into a shopping bag. Afterwards, we got in the car and drove downtown. The white snow turned grayer as we got to the city. Eventually, Grandma stopped at a dark alley (胡同) and we got out of the car. The terrible smell of rotting garbage made me feel sick. Grandma took my hand and led me to the street lamp. I could see the snow shining in the light.

Grandma paused. “There’s usually somebody down this alley. It’s quiet and out of the wind—a good place to stay on cold nights. A nice warm quilt might make it even better.”

The dark swallowed Grandma and I as we stepped deep into the alley. The pavement was broken and missing in spots. Chicken bones and dirt y boxes littered their way. And Grandma’s shoes made a loud sound with each step. Feeling scared, I squeezed Grandma’s hand. Grandma squeezed my hand back. “It’s OK,” she smiled.

“Who’s there?” shouted a voice out of the darkness.

“I have a nice warm quilt, if you want it,” said Grandma. After a while, a lady walked out of the darkness. Grandma opened the shopping bag and pulled out the multicolored quilt. “That’s pretty and it looks warm,” the lady screamed and took the quilt, her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. As we left, I looked back and saw the lady holding the quilt tightly. “You’re right, Grandma. That is a beautiful quilt.” On our ride back home, the lady’s grateful words were still ringing in my ears.

阅读下面材料，根据其内容和所给段落开头语续写两段，使之构成一篇完整的短文。

It was a beautiful sunny day when Martin went out into the backyard. It would have been a perfect day to play. But Martin wasn’t out there to play.

Two months before, so interested had Martin been in playing the flute ( 长 笛 ) that he asked his mother to buy him the expensive flute and promised to practice at least thirty minutes every day. But it can be difficult to concentrate on a flute when your room is full of cool stuff like a TV, video games and the Internet. So Martin’s mother sent him to the backyard to practice, where there would be no distractions ( 分 心 的 事 物 ) .

Martin sat down on the grass and brought the flute to his lips. He began doing his fingering exercises with his eyes closed. You have to close your eyes when you want to concentrate on stuff. Anyway, he played for a good forty or fifty seconds before he heard a familiar sound: “Hey, Martin.”

He looked in the direction of the voice and saw the face of his friend, his next-door neighbor, Kris, who was smiling at him from the fence.

“I just got a new movie!” he said, “Want to come over and check it out?”

Well, that was exactly what Martin wanted to do. He loved movies but he shook his head and said sorry. Kris seemed disappointed that Martin had said no. But he also understood that Martin had to practice a lot when learning a musical instrument. So he left and watched the film by himself

Martin was alone with his flute. He closed his eyes and started his fingering exercises again. But he couldn’t concentrate. He wasn’t anything like his father, a biologist. Martin had been to his lab many times. He couldn’t understand why his father could concentrate on his researches for so long a time. When he was thinking, his father came over

注意：

1.续写词数应为150个左右；

2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。

His father smiled when he noticed Martin’s absent-mindedness.

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Martin felt ashamed and then he nodded, saying he hoped to be a great flute player.

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When my boys were younger, going out with them was difficult. My heart sank during the holiday season every time I looked at the long line of kids waiting to meet Santa. This was not an activity our family could enjoy. The noise and crowds caused sensory (感官的) overload for my five-year-old son Noah, an autistic (患自闭症的) child. I also had a younger son, Henry, who needed an extra hand. Waiting in line was hardly possible.

I always hoped for the best but planned for the worst when I took the boys out of the house, but I knew that attempting to get a picture with Santa wasn’t worth the risk. If we had attempted to stand in line for even a few minutes, I would have been chasing Noah, and Henry would have experienced an emotional breakdown. It was easier to stay at home.

On the afternoon of Christmas Eve a year ago, the phone rang. The voice on the other end of the line said, “If you’re at home this evening, I’d like to arrange for Santa to stop by.” It was Denny, the friendly owner of a company, who had helped us with our do-it-yourself project. In a short time he was at our home, Denny’s kindness and ability to relate to our kids were evident.

I felt nervous and excited about having Santa come to our home. Denny told me it would be well arranged. Would our kids even notice? Would they be frightened by a stranger in a red suit? Would they cry?

A few minutes before I was planning to cook dinner on Christmas Eve, Santa tapped gently on the living-room window. Noah was speechless, and his jaw dropped. Henry, two years old, waved and said, “Hi, Santa!”

Excited and nervous, I opened the door and Santa stepped inside.

Santa left after staying for only a few minutes and tears streamed down my face.