2020수능특강 영어 18강 본문

18강

1-3

Cuoi was born to a poor family and he had to work at various jobs to provide for his family. One day, while gathering wood in the forest far from home, Cuoi came upon a tiger cub and picked it up. Then, he heard a frightful growl. It was the mother tiger. Cuoi threw the cub to the ground and scrambled in terror up into the branches of the nearest tree. A moment later the tigress came crashing through the underbrush and growled as she saw the body of her dead offspring. Cuoi, in his haste to escape, had thrown the cub to the ground with such force it had been killed. Then, a strange thing happened. The tigress walked to a nearby stream and gathered the leaves from a banyan tree. She chewed them into a pulp which she then applied to the head of the dead cub. Immediately the young tiger jumped to its feet and ran about as if nothing had happened. When the tigress and her cub had disappeared, Cuoi went to the miraculous banyan tree and gathered a handful of its leaves. On the way home he came upon a dead dog lying by the side of the road. Cuoi then chewed the leaves into a pulp and applied it to the dog's head. After a few minutes the animal was restored to life; it jumped to its feet. Cuoi went back to the banyan tree, uprooted it, and replanted it in his yard. He warned his mother never to dump dirty water where the tree was planted. “Otherwise,” he said jokingly, “it will fly away into the sky.” Cuoi's mother paid no attention to this warning and continued to dump dirty water near the tree. One day the tree began to slowly pull itself from the soil and to fly up into the sky. Returning from his chores, Cuoi noticed this and grasped its roots to keep it from flying away. But he was not heavy enough to keep the tree on the Earth. Instead, he was carried with it into the sky. After many days, Cuoi and the tree reached a strange new world—the Moon. Cuoi planted the tree there and sat down to figure out a way out of his predicament; but there was no solution. There on the Moon he has sat waiting, year in and year out, even until today.

 

4-6

The older man, a prominent baseball figure named Branch Rickey, suddenly changed his matter‑of‑fact, businesslike expression and turned on the young African‑American athlete. “You're just a black man,” he shouted, “so you'll never succeed in the big leagues!” The young man, stiff with hurt and surprise, clenched and unclenched his fists threateningly, but the older man moved closer and kicked him with hostility. Then it was over. The older man―the baseball‑team owner―stepped back, and the two men studied each other silently. The younger man spoke: “Why do you have to say these things to me, Mr. Rickey?” Branch Rickey, owner of the Brooklyn Dodgers and respected figure in baseball, dropped the false pose he had taken, smiled, and gently touched the young man's shoulder. Moments earlier they had been discussing the possibility of a career in big‑time baseball for the young African‑American man, Jackie Robinson. The year was 1945, and African Americans were barred from the major leagues. Rickey had warned Robinson that he would need two things to succeed. These were the ability to play baseball with the best, and the ability to stand the massive resentment toward the first African‑American player in major‑league baseball. In testing Jackie's patience in the latter, Rickey had tried to demonstrate, through pretended anger, the hate Robinson would meet. “Do you think,” said Rickey, referring to his dramatic and realistic portrayal of a racist, “that you can get through this kind of thing?” “I can,” replied Robinson softly, “if I pray.” Rickey's prediction of trouble ahead could not have been more accurate. There were boos in the stadium, constant insults, and opposing players using steel spikes to hurt him. Teammates refused even to give him the traditional handshake and cheer when crossing the plate after a home run. But Jackie endured. And after his winning the Rookie of the Year Award in 1947, fans became aware of the prayer‑born patience that made him one of the great men of the game. No one should have to qualify for sainthood in order to play baseball, but he humbled himself. Both he and Rickey were later honored by being elected into baseball's Hall of Fame.

 

7-9

The abbot woke up early one morning. Nothing was unusual in that. But this morning he was awakened by the sound of something moving in the nearby shrine room. That was unusual because most of his monks would normally be practicing their morning “chanting” so he went to investigate. In the darkness he saw a silhouette of a hooded figure. It was a burglar. After a few moments of silence the abbot said kindly, “What do you want, my friend?” “Give me the key to the donation box,” said the burglar. The abbot saw a weapon in his hand but felt no fear. He felt only compassion for the young man. “Certainly,” he said, slowly handing over the key. As the thief hurriedly emptied the box of cash, the abbot noticed the robber's jacket was torn, his face pale and gaunt. “When was the last time you have eaten, dear boy?” asked the abbot. “Shut up!” barked the burglar. The abbot nicely responded, “You'll find some food in the cupboard next to the donation box. Help yourself.” The thief paused a moment in confusion. He was taken aback by the abbot's consideration for his welfare. Still, he hurriedly filled his pockets with cash from the donation box and food from the cupboard. “And don't call the cops,” he shouted. “Why should I call the police?” answered the abbot calmly. “Those donations are to help poor people like you, and I have freely given you the food. You have stolen nothing.” A few days later, the abbot read that the burglar had been caught robbing another house. He was sentenced to ten years in jail. Just over ten years later, the same abbot awoke to the sound of someone in the shrine room. He got up to investigate and, saw the old burglar standing next to the donation box. “Remember me?” shouted the burglar. “Yes.” sighed the abbot. “Here's the key.” Then the burglar smiled, and said gently, “Sir, put away the key. I couldn't stop thinking about you all those long days in prison. You were the only person in my entire life who was kind to me, who actually cared about me. I have come back to steal again, but this time I have come to take your secret of kindness and inner peace. Please, make me your disciple.”

 

10-12

It is something of a common idea among animal behaviorists that wild animals do not tolerate disabilities, and that animals who are unfortunate enough to be born with a physical disability or fall ill rarely last very long. I am doubtful. Recent research on many species has shown that young animals born with serious disabilities are nevertheless able to live with the help of their mothers and sometimes other friends and relatives. This is particularly true of elephants but applies to many species. Indeed, animals may have no concept of “disability” in the way humans do. Inspiring in this instance is the account Kim Sturla gave of Helen, a completely tame hen who was found wandering the streets of San Francisco. She was totally blind, and dogs were attacking her when a homeless person took pity on the hen and rescued her. She was taken to the city's animal shelter, where a call was put through to Animal Place to see if they would be willing to give her a home. Helen was born with a condition called cryptophthalmos, meaning that her eyelids had never formed properly and therefore never opened. One foot was missing and one of her legs was several inches shorter than the other. Concerned on the first night that Helen might become the object of contempt from the other hens and roosters, Sturla set up a special nest in the barn. But when she opened up the door the following morning, a triumphant Helen greeted her sitting proudly on the top perch. Blind and lame, she had somehow found this spot. Far from feeling contempt for Helen's disabilities, the other birds stood in a kind of admiration for her, and she lives to this day in complete harmony with the rest of the flock, grooming her feathers, enjoying the sun, and dust‑bathing with pure delight.