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In the depths of my memory, many things I did with my father still live. I call these things  1 and love.
I don’t remember my father ever getting into a swimming pool. But he did  2 the water. Any kind of 3 ride seemed to give him pleasure.  4 he loved to fish; sometimes he took me along.
But I never really liked being on the water, the way my father did. I liked being  5 the water, moving through it, having it all around me. I was not a strong  6 , or one who learned to swim early, for I had my 7 . But I loved being in the swimming pool close to my father’s office and  8 those summer days with my father, who  9 come by on a break. I needed him to see what I could do. My father would stand there in his suit, the  10 person not in swimsuit.
After swimming, I would go  11 his office and sit on the wooden chair in front of his big desk, where he let me  12 anything I found in his top desk drawer. Sometimes, if I was left alone at his desk while he worked in the lab, an assistant or a student might come in and tell me perhaps I shouldn’t be playing with his 13 . But my father always showed up and said easily, “Oh, no, it’s fine.” Sometimes he handed me coins and told me to get  14 an ice cream…
A poet once said, “We look at life once, in childhood; the rest is memory.” And I think it is not only what we “l(fā)ook at once, in childhood” that determines our memories, but  15 , in that childhood, look at us.

1 

In the depths of my memory, many things I did with my father still live. I call these things  1  and love.

I don’t remember my father ever getting into a swimming pool. But he did  2  the water. Any kind of  3  ride seemed to give him pleasure.  4  he loved to fish; sometimes he took me along.

But I never really liked being on the water, the way my father did. I liked being  5  the water, moving through it, having it all around me. I was not a strong  6  , or one who learned to swim early, for I had my  7  . But I loved being in the swimming pool close to my father’s office and  8  those summer days with my father, who  9  come by on a break. I needed him to see what I could do. My father would stand there in his suit, the  10  person not in swimsuit.

After swimming, I would go  11  his office and sit on the wooden chair in front of his big desk, where he let me  12  anything I found in his top desk drawer. Sometimes, if I was left alone at his desk while he worked in the lab, an assistant or a student might come in and tell me perhaps I shouldn’t be playing with his  13  . But my father always showed up and said easily, “Oh, no, it’s fine.” Sometimes he handed me coins and told me to get  14  an ice cream…

A poet once said, “We look at life once, in childhood; the rest is memory.” And I think it is not only what we “l(fā)ook at once, in childhood” that determines our memories, but  15  , in that childhood, look at us.

1.A. hope           B. joy              C. anger           D. worry

2.A. hate           B. refuse           C. praise          D. love

3.A. boat           B. bus              C. train           D. bike

4.A. But                B. Then             C. And             D. Still

5.A. on                 B. off              C. by              D. in

6.A. swimmer            B. rider            C. walker          D. runner

7.A. hopes          B. likes            C. rights          D. fears

8.A. spending       B. saving

C. wasting         D. destroying

9.A. should         B. would            C. had to          D. could

10.A. next          B. only             C. other           D. last

11.A. away from     B. out of           C. by              D. inside

12.A. put up            B. break down       C. play with      D. work out

13.A. fishing net  B. office things

C. wooden chair    D.lab equipment

14.A. the student       B. the assistant    C. myself          D. himself

15.A. which         B. who              C. what            D. whose

In the depths of my memory, many things I did with my father still live. I call these things  1 and love.
I don’t remember my father ever getting into a swimming pool. But he did  2 the water. Any kind of 3 ride seemed to give him pleasure.  4 he loved to fish; sometimes he took me along.
But I never really liked being on the water, the way my father did. I liked being  5 the water, moving through it, having it all around me. I was not a strong  6 , or one who learned to swim early, for I had my 7 . But I loved being in the swimming pool close to my father’s office and  8 those summer days with my father, who  9 come by on a break. I needed him to see what I could do. My father would stand there in his suit, the  0 person not in swimsuit.
After swimming, I would go  11 his office and sit on the wooden chair in front of his big desk, where he let me  12 anything I found in his top desk drawer. Sometimes, if I was left alone at his desk while he worked in the lab, an assistant or a student might come in and tell me perhaps I shouldn’t be playing with his 13 . But my father always showed up and said easily, “Oh, no, it’s fine.” Sometimes he handed me coins and told me to get  14 an ice cream…
A poet once said, “We look at life once, in childhood; the rest is memory.” And I think it is not only what we “l(fā)ook at once, in childhood” that determines our memories, but  15 , in that childhood, look at us.