爱华网阅读是个体获得知识、传达信息的重要手段，是现代人不可缺少的技能。下面就是小编给大家整理的短篇英文文章，希望大家喜欢。
短篇英文文章：May I sit here?
I look at spiders and butter-flies. I watch caterpillars and moths. Sometimes I think I'm the only one who notices these things. But if it hadn't been for a crowded cafeteria, I wouldn't Have ever noticed Valeri. After all, I wasn't looking for new friends.
Valeri was a new student. She walked to class with her books huddled against her chest and her head down. He talked only when the teacher asked her a question. After a month at our school, she hadn't made any friend. At recess, she sat on a bench and read. If you asked who she was, you'd get a response like this, "She's in my PE class, I can't remenber her name."
One day at lunch, I had nowhere to sit. Most tables were full, my friends scattered among them. But Valeri sat alone, book in hand, I walked over to her.
"May I sit here?" I asked.
"Sure," she said.
The cafeteria was noisy, but silence hung between us. Valeri didn't seem to mind, but it drove me crazy. I searched my mind for things to say.
"So," I said, "is that a good book?" Valeri gave a small nod and went back to reading. "What's it about?" I asked, after several more agonizing seconds of silence. She looked at me, her eyes sparkling.
"Well, it's called Eragon, and it's about a dragon! This boy, Eragon, finds this dragon egg when he goes hunging one day. He thinks it's a rock! The egg hatches and Eragon hides the dragon from his cousin and uncle until it gets too big."
"That sounds cool." I said. I was about to ask her another question, but the bell rang.
As I rushed out of the cafeteria, I called to Valeri, "See you later."
"Yeah," she said, "see you later." She sounded doubtful.
A couple days later, I spotted Valeri looking for a place to sit at lunch.
"Valeri, come here." I pointed to an empty chair.
She sat down and pulled out her book. Everyone was talking about next week's talent show. "So, what are you doing for the show?" My friend Erin asked my friend Kelly.
"Oh, I don't know, probably nothing," Kelly sighed. "What are you doing?" She pointed to Valeri.
"Oh." Valeri put her book down. "I don't know. Maybe nothing."
The week flew by. Before I knew it. I was sitting in the auditorium, listening to a group of girls sing the latest pop songs at the talent show. I was bored out of my life, and I wanted it to end so I could read Eragon. I'd checked it out at the library, Then a shy girl walked on stage. I recongized her immediately. Valeri clutched a violin in one hand and a bow in the other.
She stared to play. The notes formed a soft, weet tune. Then it turned fast, then faster. The music stopped altogether before the tune retumed. Valeri ended the song with one hard, fast, loud note. The auditorium fell completely silent until we realized the music was finished. Still in a halftrance, we burst into applause. Valeri took a swift bow and walked off stage.
I smiled to myself. Valeri wasn't just a "quiet girl".She knew about wonderful books and could play the violin like nothing I'd ever heard. Like a caterpillar or butterfly, she was beautiful and amazing when you looked closely.
短篇英文文章：That's what friends do
Jack tossed the papers on my desk -- his eyebrows knit into a straight line as he glared at me.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
He jabbed a finger at the proposal. "Next time you want to change anything, ask me first," he said, turning on his heels and leaving me stewing in anger.
How dare he treat me like that, I thought. I had changed one long sentence, and corrected grammar, something I thought I was paid to do.
It's not that I hadn't been warned. Other women who had worked my job before me called Jack names I couldn't repeat. One coworker took me aside the first day. "He's personally responsible for two different secretaries leaving the firm," she whispered.
As the weeks went by, I grew to despise Jack. His actions made me question much that I believed in, such as turning the other cheek and loving your enemies. Jack quickly slapped a verbal insult on any cheek turned his way. I prayed about the situation, but to be honest, I wanted to put Jack in his place, not love him.
One day another of his episodes left me in tears. I stormed into his office, prepared to lose my job if needed, but not before I let the man know how I felt. I opened the door and Jack glanced up. "What?" he asked abruptly.
Suddenly I knew what I had to do. After all, he deserved it.
I sat across from him and said calmly, "Jack, the way you've been treating me is wrong. I've never had anyone speak to me that way. As a professional, it's wrong, and I can't allow it to continue."
Jack snickered nervously and leaned back in his chair. I closed my eyes briefly. God help me, I prayed.
"I want to make you a promise. I will be a friend," I said. "I will treat you as you deserve to be treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that. Everybody does." I slipped out of the chair and closed the door behind me.
Jack avoided me the rest of the week. Proposals, specs, and letters appeared on my desk while I was at lunch, and my corrected versions were not seen again. I brought cookies to the office one day and left a batch on his desk. Another day I left a note. "Hope your day is going great," it read.
Over the next few weeks, Jack reappeared. He was reserved, but there were no other episodes. Coworkers cornered me in the break room. "Guess you got to Jack," they said. "You must have told him off good."
I shook my head. "Jack and I are becoming friends," I said in faith. I refused to talk about him. Every time I saw Jack in the hall, I smiled at him. After all, that's what friends do.
One year after our "talk," I discovered I had breast cancer. I was thirty-two, the mother of three beautiful young children, and scared. The cancer had metastasized to my lymph nodes and the statistics were not great for long-term survival. After my surgery, friends and loved ones visited and tried to find the right words. No one knew what to say, and many said the wrong things. Others wept, and I tried to encourage them. I clung to hope myself.
One day, Jack stood awkwardly in the doorway of my small, darkened hospital room. I waved him in with a smile. He walked over to my bed and without a word placed a bundle beside me. Inside the package lay several bulbs.
"Tulips," he said.
I grinned, not understanding.
He shuffled his feet, then cleared his throat. "If you plant them when you get home, they'll come up next spring. I just wanted you to know that I think you'll be there to see them when they come up."
Tears clouded my eyes and I reached out my hand. "Thank you," I whispered.
Jack grasped my hand and gruffly replied, "You're welcome. You can't see it now, but next spring you'll see the colors I picked out for you. I think you'll like them." He turned and left without another word.
For ten years, I have watched those red-and-white striped tulips push their way through the soil every spring.
In a moment when I prayed for just the right word, a man with very few words said all the right things.
After all, that's what friends do.
短篇英文文章：A special letter
Dear World:
My son starts school today.
It's going to be strange and new to him for a while, and I wish you would sort of treat him gently.
You see, up to now, he's been king of the roost.
He's been boss of the backyard.
I have always been around to repair his wounds, and to soothe his feelings.
But now--things are going to be different.
This morning, he's going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand and start on his great adventure that will probably include wars and tragedy and sorrow.
To live his life in the world he has to live in will require faith and love and courage.
So, World, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hand and teach him the things he will have to know.
Teach him - but gently, if you can.
Teach him that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every crooked politician there is a dedicated leader; that for every enemy there is a friend.
Teach him the wonders of books.
Give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and flowers on the green hill.
Teach him it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat.
Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they are wrong.
Teach him to sell his brawn and brains to the highest bidder, but never to put a price on his heart and soul.
Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob...and to stand and fight if he thinks he's right.
Teach him gently, World, but don't coddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel.
This is a big order, World, but see what you can do.
He's such a nice little fellow.
