散文之妙,一曰散,二曰文。散者如行云流水信手拈来,行其所当行,止其所为止。所以写景状物抒怀发议皆可独立成篇,各有情趣。文与野相对。见有人为使意义明确,称之为美文。下面是小编带来的大学英语四级美文，欢迎阅读!

大学英语四级美文篇一

父女的约定A promise kept

In a world where so many lives are being torn apart by divorces and heartaches, comes a story of a father and a daughter, and a promise that was kept.

My father was not a sentimental man. I don’t remember him ever “ooohhing” or “ahhing” over something I made as a child. Don’t get me wrong; I knew that my dad loved me, but getting all mushy-eyed was not his thing. I learned that he showed me love in other ways.

There was one particular time in my life when this became real to me...

I always believed that my parents had a good marriage, but just before I, the youngest of four children, turned sixteen, my belief was sorely tested. My father, who used to share in the chores around the house, gradually started becoming despondent. From the time he came home from his job at the factory to the time he went to bed, he hardly spoke a word to my mom or us kids. The strain on my mom and dad’s relationship was very evident. However, I was not prepared for the day that Mom sat my siblings and me down and told us that Dad had decided to leave. All that I could think of was that I was going to become a product of a divorced family. It was something I never thought possible, and it grieved me greatly. I kept telling myself that it wasn’t going to happen, and I went totally numb when I knew my dad was really leaving. The night before he left, I stayed up in my room for a long time. I prayed and I cried and I wrote a long letter to my dad. I told him how much I loved him and how much I would miss him. I told him that I was praying for him and wanted him to know that, no matter what, Jesus and I loved him. I told him that I would always and forever be his Krissie...his Noodles. As I folded my note, I stuck in a picture of me with a saying I had always heard: “Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy.”

Early the next morning, as my dad left our house, I sneaked out to the car and slipped my letter into one of his bags.

Two weeks went by with hardly a word from my father. Then, one afternoon, I came home from school to find my mom sitting at the dining room table waiting to talk to me. I could see in her eyes that she had been crying. She told me that Dad had been there and that they had talked for a long time. They decided that there were things that the both of them could and would change and that their marriage was worth saving. Mom then turned her focus to my eyes.

“Kristi, Dad told me that you wrote him a letter. Can I ask what you wrote to him?”

I found it hard to share with my mom what I had written from my heart to my dad. I mumbled a few words and shrugged.

Mom said, “Well, Dad said that when he read your letter, it made him cry. It meant a lot to him and I have hardly ever seen your dad cry. After he read your letter, he called to ask if he could come over to talk. Whatever you said really made a difference to your dad.”

A few days later my dad was back, this time to stay. We never talked about the letter, my dad and I. I guess I always figured that it was something that was a secret between us.

My parents went on to be married a total of thirty six years before my dad’s early death at the age of fifty three cut short their lives together. In the last sixteen years of my parent’s marriage, I and all those who knew my mom and dad witnessed one of the truly “great” marriages. Their love grew stronger every day, and my heart swelled with pride as I saw them grow closer together.

When Mom and Dad received the news from the doctor that his heart was deteriorating rapidly, they took it hand in hand, side by side, all the way.

After Dad’s death, we had the most unpleasant task of going through his things. I have never liked this task and opted to run errands so I did not have to be there while most of the things were divided and boxed up.

When I got back from my errand, my brother said, “Kristi, Mom said to give this to you. She said you would know what it meant.”

As I looked down into his outstretched hand, it was then that I knew the impact of my letter that day so long ago. In my brother’s hand was my picture that I had given my dad that day. My unsentimental dad, who never let his emotions get the best of him; my dad, who almost never outwardly showed his love for me, had kept the one thing that meant so much to him and me. I sat down and the tears began to flow, tears that I thought had dried up from the grief of his death but that had now found new life as I realized what I had meant to him. Mom told me that Dad kept both the picture and that letter his whole life. I have a box in my home that I call the “Dad box”. In it are so many things that remind me of my dad. I pull that picture out every once in a while and remember. I remember a promise that was made many years ago between a young man and his bride on their wedding day, and I remember the unspoken promise that was made between a father and his daughter.

大学英语四级美文篇二

苏珊的“魔毯”

By Karen Taylor

Wrinkles of confusion rippled across Holly's forehead as she unwrapped the gift from her best friend, Susan.

"I...I thought you could use it for something." Susan's stammered explanation did nothing to help us understand why a twelve-by-eighteen-inch dark blue carpet remnant was being presented as a birthday gift.

My heart went out to our daughter. Starting out at a new school during her freshman year had been a difficult adjustment. Until she met Susan, Holly had experienced little success making new friends.

The murmured "thanks" was barely audible as Holly tried valiantly not to allow her disappointment to show. She laid the piece of carpet on the kitchen counter, and the two girls headed outside to play with the family dogs.

The extent of Holly's disappointment over the incident didn't become evident until the following evening when she came downstairs to say good night. "Well, I guess we know how much my best friend thinks of me, huh, Mom?" Her attempt at a breezy tone failed miserably.

Still bewildered by the situation myself, I didn't have much to offer in the way of enlightenment. "I'm so sorry, honey," was all I could manage to say.

The next morning, I carried a bulging kitchen sack outside. My heart wrenched as I lifted the lid of the trash can and saw Susan's carpet lying among the other discarded items. Hesitating only a moment, I reached in and plucked it from amid the debris. After giving it a light brushing, I brought it into the house and tucked it away in the hall closet. Overshadowed by the business of daily living, the carpet was soon forgotten.

Prior to Holly's birthday, Susan had been a regular visitor in our home. On several occasions, she rode the bus home with Holly and was one of the few friends ever permitted to stay over on a school night. The girls did their homework together and went to bed at a reasonable hour.

Now as I slid the evening meal into the oven, I realized it had been nearly three weeks since we'd even heard mention of Susan's name. I missed her warm smile and eager-to-please ways.

A rustle at the front door told me Holly had arrived home from school. "Susan invited me to come over to her house after school tomorrow," she announced as she plunked her books down on the kitchen table. Although her voice carried a so-what attitude, I sensed she was pleased by the invitation.

In spite of the number of times Susan had visited with us, our invitations were never returned. "She wants you to come, too, so you can meet her foster mom." The words "foster mom" dangled in the air like a spent birthday balloon. Susan never talked about her home life, and we didn't find it necessary to pry.

Arrangements were made, and the girls rode home together on the school bus the following day. As I negotiated the winding country road that led to her house, Susan babbled nervously about her foster mom and the seventeen cats she had taken in and cared for with Susan's help. Several of these foster kitties scattered as we pulled into the rutted gravel driveway.

A tall angular woman wearing a shapeless tan sweater over navy blue pants stood in the screened doorway to greet us as we approached the small farmhouse. "Excuse the mess," she apologized, holding the door open while we threaded our way through stuff that seemed to be everywhere. Knowing my reputation for neatness, Holly's eyes darted in my direction to quickly assess my reaction to such chaos. Susan's foster mom waved a hand toward the kitchen counter, which was barely visible through the assortment of cat medicines. "This is my medicine cabinet," she explained.

Susan ushered us through the house. It seemed to be alive with four-legged fur balls roaming underfoot and sprawling across the backs of the dingy sofa and chairs. She proudly showed us her room, which was sparsely but neatly decorated with used furnishings. A tarnished picture frame sitting on a crate beside the bed contained pictures of Susan's parents and siblings from whom, we later learned, she had long since been separated.

As the girls flopped down on the grayish-white bedspread to compare notes about the school day, I followed Susan's foster mom - who introduced herself as Glenda - into the kitchen. After clearing a small area, Glenda placed a couple of mugs on the table. Her hand trembled slightly as she poured us each a cup of steaming black coffee. The tightness of her features began to relax as we sipped our coffee and chatted about her cats.

A warm glow shone in her eyes as she revealed to me her fondness for Susan. But her expression turned pensive when she referred briefly to the girl's past. In a short time, I came to respect this generous-hearted woman who had opened her home to a young girl and attempted to make a difference in her life.

As daylight began to fade, we offered our thanks for the visit and said good-bye.

Holly sat quietly in the car on the way home. Stealing a glance, I noticed her back was ramrod-straight. Her head and shoulders were thrust forward as if willing the car to move faster. No sooner had we come to a stop in the driveway than she flung open the car door and walked purposefully toward the side gate. Curious, I shifted into park and followed. A lump caught in my throat as I observed my daughter standing next to the trash can peering inside. Her shoulders slumped as she replaced the lid and shuffled into the house.

After pulling the car into the garage, I went inside and headed for the hall closet. By this time, Holly was sitting at the kitchen table staring out the window.

"Is this what you were looking for?" I placed the piece of carpet on the table in front of her.

"Thanks, Mom." A tear or two slipped from her eye and splashed onto the dark blue remnant that, as if by magic, had become the most precious birthday present in the whole world.

大学英语四级美文篇三

爱的伤疤The scars of love

Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house.

几年前的一个炎炎夏日，在美国佛罗里达州南部，有个小男孩为贪图凉快，决定去自家房子后面一个形成已久的深水潭中游泳。

In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore. His mother - in the house was looking out the window - saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.

因为迫不及待地想投入到清凉的水中，他飞快地从后门跑了出去，边跑边脱掉鞋子、袜子和衬衣，把它们随手抛在了身后。他一头扎进了水里，丝毫没有意识到自己游往潭中心的同时，一只美洲鳄也正在朝岸边游来。小男孩的母亲当时在屋子里透过窗子向外看着，发现那只美洲鳄正向她的孩子步步逼近。她极度惊恐起来，一边迅速奔向水潭，一边声嘶力竭地朝自己的孩子呼喊着。

Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a return to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him.

听到她的呼喊，小男孩才猛然意识到了危险，立即掉头向岸边的母亲游去。可这时已经无济于事。他的手勉强刚够到他的母亲，鳄鱼也已经接触到了他。

From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. Then began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.

母亲在岸上拼命地拽紧儿子的手臂，而此时美洲鳄也死死地咬住孩子的腿不放。为了争夺小男孩，母亲和鳄鱼之间俨然展开了一场让人难以置信的拔河较量。美洲鳄的力气显然要比母亲强大得多，但是母亲挽救儿子的坚定信念让她无论如何也绝不放手。就在这万分危急的关头，一位农夫恰巧驾车经过，一听到孩子母亲的尖叫便飞速从卡车上跳下，瞄准鳄鱼并开枪将其射杀。

Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal and, on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.

值得庆幸的是，经过在医院数周的抢救治疗，小男孩居然存活了下来。鳄鱼凶残的袭击在他的腿上刻下了触目惊心的伤痕。不仅如此，他的双臂上也留下了深深的抓痕，那是在生死关头母亲为了牢牢抓住挚爱的儿子，以至于手指甲都掐入了儿子的肉中所留下的。

The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter. But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my mom wouldn't let go.

事后，这位死里逃生的小男孩接受了一位报社记者的采访。当记者问他是否愿意让大家看看他身上的伤疤时，小男孩挽起了自己的裤腿，腿上深深的疤痕暴露无遗。紧接着，他满脸自豪地告诉记者，“大家还是看看我的手臂吧，我的手臂上也有好多伤疤呢。这是妈妈不放开我，在救我的时候留下的。”

You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, or anything quite so dramatic. But, the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret.