(完整版)Unit5WritingThreeThank-YouLetters

课后练习答案：《全新版大学英语》第三册UNIT 5（综合教程第二版）Unit 5 Giving ThanksText A Writing Three Thank-You LettersText Organizationl.Parte Paragraphs Main IdeasPart One Paras 1-9 On Thanksgiving Day 1943, as a young coastguardsman at sea, the writer came up with the idea of expressing his gratitude to people who had helped him before.Part Two Paras 10-16 The writer wrote three thank-you letters to his father, the Rev. Nelson and his grandmother.Part Three Paras 17-23 The writer got three letters in reply.Part Four Paras 24-26 The writer wishes everyone to find the good and praise it. Correspondents Letters Sent Letters ReceivedFather Thanks him for teaching the writer from boyhood to love books and reading. Tells the writer how he, as a teacher and a father as well, felt content with his own son.The Rev. Nelson , Thanks him for his morningschool prayers. Ii Tells the writer about his retirement coupled with self-doubt, and the re?assurance brought to him by the writer's letter.Grandmother Thanks her for teaching the writer how to tell the truth, to share and to be forgiving, and for her good cooking and her sprinkling the writer's life with Stardust. Expresses her loving gratefulness to her grandson.Language sense enhancement1. decades2. undergoing3. had done wrong4. welcome reassurance5. appreciated6. brought back7. relatives 8. accomplish9. consume 10. representingVocabularyI. 1. 1) sprinkled 2) in turn3) reversed 4) repay5) at sea 6) traditional7) statement 8) longed for9) in secret 10) unloaded11) weep 12) under way2. 1) stretch out 2) make out3) hope for 4) turns (it) over5) put away 6) brings back7) got to 8) go about3. 1) As supplies of traditional fuels diminish, people are working to increase the use of solarenergy.2) We accord high priority to meeting the challenges of economic and environmental development in the region.3) While it is true that children of today are exposed to more information than were children of the past, it does not follow that they automatically become more sophisticated.4) Since she borrowed those books from the library she has been immersed in British history and culture.5) Everything changed in a flash on June 1, 2000 when he lost both legs in a serious traffic accident.4. 1) I'd like to express my sincere thanks to everyone who has been so considerate of my well-being. My heart is filled with gratitude that words cannot express.2) After everyone assembled on the playground amid the noise and excitement of the specta?tors, our coach again impressed on us the need to do our best in quest of excellence.3) Everything I saw in my hometown was marvelous. I could hardly believe that it had undergone such swift changes through cultivating fruits, vegetables, flowers and the rest in the past few years.II. Collocation1, fond of 2. sick of3. thoughtful of4. confident of5. conscious of6. critical of7. guilty of 8. ashamed of-III. Usage1. To know what people really think, pay regard to what they do, rather than what they say.2. It is cooperation, rather than conflict, that will enable you to achieve your success.3. Ann made students think for themselves rather than telling them what to think.4. I think I'll stay at home this evening rather than go / going out.5. Most people are content to let perfect days happen at random rather than plan / planning for them.Comprehensive ExercisesI. Cloze(A)1) at sea 2) Turning over3) reverse 4) got to5) repay 6) gratitude7) assembled 8)immersed in9) unloading 10) swift(B)1) instead 2) possessions3) richer 4) breath5) cherish 6) special7) specific 8) shining9) miracles 10) giftII. Translation1. 1) Grandma took it for granted that food prices would soar, so she bought a lot of rice.2) I can quote you several instances of her dedication to science.3) The 1980s saw the start of the swift development of some special economic zones in China.4) Tension between the two countries stemmed in part from the latest spy affair.5) Peter has worked in a law firm for many years. You can consider having him as your lawyer to act on your behalf when you need legal help.2.Amid the atmosphere of Thanksgiving, rather than joining his friends in celebration of the holiday, George was immersed in the diary left to him by his father, who died at sea after he completed two successive trips around the world. The diary brought back every moment George had spent with his father and many of the specific things his father did on his behalf. George's father used to impress on him the need to undergo all kinds of hardship in quest of excellence. He also taught him that nothing in the world could betaken for granted. Even today, George still remembers how his father would quote Aesop's famous saying "Gratitude is the sign of noble souls" and tell him to accord the greatest importance to it.。

"Writing three thank-you letters"是一项礼仪活动，通常是指在特定场合，比如收到礼物或者受到别人的帮助时，向赠送礼物或提供帮助的人写三封感谢信。

这项礼仪活动的出处比较广泛，可以在各种文化和社交场合中发现。

例如，在美国的文化中，写感谢信是一项常见的社交礼仪，特别是在结婚、收到大礼物或在职业场合受到别人帮助时。

在日本文化中，写感谢信也是一项常见的礼仪活动，被称为"感謝状" (kanshajo)，用于表达对他人的感激之情。

在写感谢信时，通常需要注意以下几点：
1. 表达真诚的感谢之情。

感谢信不仅仅是为了礼貌而写的，更重
要的是要表达自己的感激之情。

2. 详细描述受到的帮助或礼物。

在感谢信中，可以详细描述对方
提供的帮助或送给自己的礼物，这样可以让对方感受到自己的用心
和关注。

3. 适时发送感谢信。

在受到帮助或礼物后，应该尽快写感谢信，
并在适当的时间发送给对方，以表达自己的感激之情。

总之，写感谢信是一项重要的礼仪活动，可以表达自己对他人的感激之情，并加强人与人之间的联系。

Unit 5 p161Dear Dad,It’s Thanksgiving and of course my thoughts are turning home to you. Looking out over the ocean I find myself thinking how much I owe to you. Yet I have never got round to telling you just how thankful I feel towards you for all you have done for me. There are so many things, I don’t know where to start and would never get to the end once I began. But if I had to pick just one thing it would perhaps be the love of books and reading I learnt from you. Those after-dinner quizzes at the table about the books we had just read and the new words we had picked up, I can see them in my mind’s eye as if they were yesterday. Not many are as lucky in their father as I am. So, simply, thank you.Your loving son,AlexDear Grandma,Here I am, on board my ship, and a thousand miles away from your wonderful cooking on Thanksgiving! Standing here at the rail, looking out at the sunset, I’ve been turning the meaning of Thanksgiving around in my mind and came up withthe idea that it is just the time to be giving thanks to those we owe them to. And who better to start with than you? How could I have grown up without your help? You always found just the right way of showing me with those wonderful stories of yours the importance of telling the truth, of sharing and forgiving, of being considerate to others. Quite simply, you sprinkled my life with stardust. Thank you.Love,AlexDear Rev. Nelson,I am writing this on board my ship. It is Thanksgiving. My thoughts have been turning to all those who have done so much for me in the past and how I have never taken the time to thank them properly. Naturally, you were among the first to come to mind. You were, quite simply, the very best teacher a child could wish for. You gave us so many different gifts, but, if I were forced to choose one, then it would be your morning prayers at assembly at the start of each day. Whatever positive things I have done since can often be traced to the impression left by those prayers. For that guidance and all the other things Iwas lucky enough to learn from you, I shall always be in your debt.Your affectionate student,Alex Haley。

Writing Three Thank-you LettersIt was 1943,during World WarⅡ,and I was a young U.S. coastguardsman. My ship, the USS Murzim, had been under way for several days. Most of her holds contained thousands of cartons of canned or dried foods. The other holds were loaded with five-hundred-pound bombs packed delicately in padded racks. Our destination was a big base on the island of Tulagi in the South Pacific.I was one of the Murzim’s several cooks and, quite the same as for folk ashore, this Thanksgiving morning had seen us busily preparing a traditional dinner featuring roast turkey.Well, as any my cook knows, it’s a lot of hard work to cook and serve a big meal, and clean up and put everything away. But finally, around sundown, we finished at last.I decided first to go out on the Murzim’s afterdesk for a breath of open air. I made my way out there, breathing in great, deep draughts while walking slowly about, still wearing my white cook’s hat.I got to thinking about Thanksgiving, of the Pilgrims, Indians, wild turkeys, pumpkins, corn on the cob, and the rest.Y et my mind seemed to be in quest of something else ------some way that I could personally apply to the close of Thanksgiving. It must have taken me a half hour to sense that maybe some key to an answer could result from reversing the word”Thanksgiving”----at least that suggested a verbal direction ,”Giving thanks”.Giving thanks--------as in praying, thanking God, I thought. Y es, of course. Certainly.Y et my mind continued turning the idea over.After a while, like a dawn’s brightening, a further answer did come ----- that there were people to thank, people who had done so much for me that I could never possibly repay them. The embarrassing truth was I’d always just accepted what they’d done, taken all of it for granted. Not one time had I ever bothered to express to any of them so much as a simple, sincere “Thank you.”At least seven people had been particularly and lastingly helpful to me. I realized, swallowing hard, that about half of them had since died-------so they were forever beyond any possible expression of gratitude from me. The more I thought about it, the more ashamed I became. Then I pictured the three who were still alive and, within minutes, I was down in my cabin.Sitting at a table with writing paper and memories of things each had done, I tried composing genuine statements of heartfelt appreciation and gratitude to my dad, Simon A. Haley, a professorat the old Agricultural Mechanical Normal College in Pine Bluff, Arkansas; to my grandma, Cynthia Palmer, back in our little hometown of Henning, Tennessee; and to the Rev, Lonual Nelson, my grammar school principal, retired and living in Ripley, six miles north of Henning.The texts of my letters began something like,“Here, this Thanksgiving at sea, I find my thoughts upon how much you have done for me, but I have never stopped and said to you how much I feel the need to thank you------“And briefly I recalled for each of them specific acts performed on my behalf.For instance, something uppermost about my father was how he had impressed upon me from boyhood to love books and reading. In fact, this graduated into a family habit of after-dinner quizzes at the table about books never diminished and later led me toward writing books myself. So many times I have felt a sadness when exposed to modern children so immersed in the electronic media that they have little or no awareness of the marvelous world to be discovered inbooks.I reminded the Reverend Nelson how each morning he would open our little country town’s grammar school with a prayer over his assembled students. I told him that whatever positive things I had done since had been influenced at least in part by his morning school prayers.In the letter to my grandmother, I reminded her of a dozen ways she used to teach me how to tell the truth, to share, and to be forgiving and considerate of others. I thanked her for the years of eating her good cooking, the equal of which I had not found since. Finally, I thanked her simply for having sprinkled my life with stardust.Before I slept, my three letters went into our ship’s office mail sack. They got mailed when we reached Tulagi Island.We unloaded cargo, reloaded with something else, then again we put to sea in the routine familiar to us, and as the days became weeks, my little personal experience receded. Something, when we were at sea, a mail ship would rendezvous and bring us mail from home, which, of course, we accorded topmost priority.Every time the ship’s loudspeaker rasped,”Attention! Mail call!” two hundred-odd shipmates came pounding up on deck and clustered about the two seamen, standing by those precious bulging gray sacks. They were alternately names of sailors who were, in turn, shouting back”Here! Here!” amid the pushing.One “mail call “ brought me responses from Grandma, Dad, and the Reverend Nelson ----- and my reading of their letters left me not only astonished but more humbled than before.Rather than saying they would forgive that I hadn’t previously thanked them, instead, for Pete’s sake, they were thanking me ----- for having remembered, for having considered they had done anything so exceptional.Always the college professor, my dad had carefully avoided anything he considered too sentimental, so I knew how moved he was to write me that, after having helped educate many young people, he now felt that his best results included his own son.The Reverend Nelson wrote that his decades as a “simple, old-fashioned principal”had ended with schools undergoing such swift changes that he had retired in selfdoubt. “ I heard more of what I had done wrong than what I did right,” he said, adding that my letter had brought him welcome reassurance that his career been appreciated.A glance at Grandma’s familiar handwriting brought back in a flash memories of standing alongside her white rocking chair, watching her ”’settin’ down” some letter to relatives. Character by character, Grandma would slowly accomplish one word, then the next, so that a finished page would consume hours. I wept over the page repressing her loving gratefulness to me ------ whom she used to diaper!Much later, retired from the Coast Guard and trying to make a living as a writer, I never forgot how those three “thank you”letters gave me an insight into how most human beings go about longing in secret for more of their fellows to express appreciation for their effors.Now, approaching another Thanksgiving , I have asked myself what will wish for all who are reading this, for our nation, indeed for our whole world ----- since, quoting a good and wise friend of mine, “In the end we are mightily and merely people, each with similar needs.” First, I wish for us, of course, the simple common sense to achieve world peace, that being paramount for the very survival of our kind.And there is something else I wish ----- so strongly that I have had this line printed across thebottom of all my stationery: “ Find the good ------ and praise it.”。

WritingThreeThank-YouLettersThank youAlex HaleyAlex Haley, the author of roots, served in the coast guard during world war Ⅱ. On an especially lonely day at sea, thanksgiving, he began to give serious thought to a holiday that has become, for most of us, a day of overeating and watching endless games of football. Haley decided to celebrate the true meaning of thanksgiving, not by remembering the pilgrims and their turkey dinner, bur by writing three very special letters.It was 1943, during world warⅡ, and I was a young U.S. coastguardsman, serial number 212-548, a number we never seem to forget. My ship, the USS murzim, had been under way for several days. Most of her holds contained thousands of cartons of canned or dried foods. The other holds were loaded with five-hundred-pound bombs packed delicately in padded racks. Our destination was a big base on the island of tulagi in the south pacific.I was one of the murzim’s several co oks and, quite the same as for folk ashore, this thanksgiving morning had seen us busily preparing a traditional dinner featuring roast turkey.Well, as any cook knows, it’s a lot of hard work to cook the serve a big meal, and clean up and put everything away. But finally, around sundown, with our whole galley crew just bushed, we finished at last and were free to go flop into our bunks in the fo’c’sle.But I decided first to go out on the murzim’s afterdeck for a breath of open air. I made my way out there, breathing in great, deep draughts while walking slowly about, still wearing my whitecook’s hat and the long apron, my feet sensing the big ship’s vibrations from the deep-set turbine diesels and my ears hearing that slightly hissing sound the sea makes in resisting the skin of a ship.I got to think about thanksgiving. In reflex, my thoughts registered the historic imagery of the pilgrims, Indians, wild turkeys, pumpkins, corn on the cob, and the rest.Yet my mind seemed to be questing for something else---some way that I could personally apply to the waning thanksgiving. It must have taken me a half hour to sense that maybe some key to an answer could result from reversing the word “thanksgiving”---at least that suggested a verbal direction, ”giving thanks.”Giving thanks---as in praying, thanking god, I thought. Yes, of course. Certainly.Yet my mind continued nagging me. Fine. But something else.After a while, like a dawn’s brightening, a further answer did come---that there were people to thank, people who had done so much for me that I could never possibly repay them. The embarrassing truth was I’d always just accepted what they’d done, taken all of it for granted. Not one time had I ever bothered to express to any of them so much as a simple, sincere “thank you.”At least seven people had been particularly and indelibly helpful to me. Irealized, with a gulp, that about half of them had since died---so they were forever beyond any possible expression of gratitude from me. The more I thought about it, the more ashamed I became. Then I pictured the three who were still alive and, within minutes, I was down in the fo’c’sle.Sitting at a mess table with writing paper and memories of things each had done, I tried composing genuine statements of heartfelt appreciation and gratitude to my dad, Simon a. Haley, a professor at the old AMNC (agricultural mechanical normal college) in pine bluff, ark., now a branch of the university of Arkansas.; and to the Rev. Lonual Nelson, my grammar school principal, retired and living in Ripley, six miles north of Henning.I couldn’t even be certain if they would recall some of their acts of years past, acts that I vividly remembered and saw now as having given me vital training, or inspiration, or directions, if not all of these desirables rolled into one.The texts of my letters began something like, ”here, this thanksgiving at sea, I find my thoughts upon how much you have done for me, but I have never stopped and said to you how much I feel the need to thank you---” And bri efly I recalled for each of them specific acts performed on my behalf.For instance, something uppermost about my father was how he had impressed upon me from boyhood to love books and reading. In fact, this graduated into a family habit of after-dinner quizzes at the table about books read most recently and new words learned. My love of books never diminished and later led me toward writing books myself. So many times I have felt a sadness when exposed to modern children so immersed in the electronic media that they have little to no awareness of the wondrous world to be discovered in books.I reminded the Reverend Nelson how each morning he would open our little country town’s grammar school with a prayer over his assembled students.I told him that whatever positive things I had done since had been influenced at least in part by his morning school prayers.In the letter to my grandmother, I reminded her of a dozen ways she used to teach me how to tell the truth, to be thrifty, to share, and to be forgiving and considerate of others. (My reminders included how she’d make me pull switches from a peach tree for my needed lesson.) I thanked her for the years of eating her good cooking, the equal of which I had not found since. (By now, though, I’ve reflected that those peerless dishes are most gloriously flavored with a pinch of nostalgia.) Finally, I thanked her simply for having sprinkled my life with stardust.Before I slept, my three letters went into our ship’s office mail sack. They got mailed when we reached Tulagi Island.We unloaded cargo, reloaded with something else, then again we put to sea in the routine familiar to us, and as the days became weeks, my little personal experience receded. Sometimes, when we were at sea, a mail ship would rendezvous and bring us mail from home, which, of course, weaccorded topmost priority.Every time the ship’s loudspeaker rasped,”Attenti on! Mail call!”two-hundred-odd shipmates came pounding up on deck and clustered about the raised hatch atop which two yeomen, standing by those precious bulging gray sacks, were alternately pulling out fistfuls of letters and barking successive names of sa ilors who were, in turn, hollering “Here! Here!” amid the jostling.One”mail call”brought me responses from Grandma, Dad, and the Reverend Nelson---and my reading of their letters left me not only astounded but more humbled than before.Rather than saying they would forgive that I hadn’t previously thanked them, instead, for Pete’s sake, they were thanking me---for having remembered, for having consideredthey had done anything so exceptional.Always the college professor, my dad had carefully avoided anything he considered too sentimental, so I knew how moved he was to write me that, after having helped educate many young people, he now felt that his best results included his own son.The Reverend Nelson wrote that his decades as a” simple, old-fashioned pr incipal”had ended with grammar schools undergoing such swift changes that he had retired in self-doubt. “I heard more of what I had done wrong than what I did right,”he said, adding that my letter had brought him welcome reassurance that his career had been appreciated.A glance at Grandma’s familiar handwriting brought back in flash memories of standing alongside her white wicker rocking chair, watching her”settin’ down some letter to relatives. Frequently touching her pencil’s tip to pursed lips, characte r by character, each followed by a short, soft grunt, Grandma would slowly accomplish one word, then the next, so that a finished page would consume hours. I wept over the page representing my Grandma’s recent hours invested in expressing her loving gratefulness to me---whom she used to diaper!Much later, retired from the coast guard and trying to make a living as a writer, I never forgot how those three “thank you” letters gave me an insight into something nigh mystical in human beings, most of whom go about yearning in secret for more of their fellows to express appreciation for their efforts.I discovered in time that, even in the business world, probably no two words are more valued than “thank you,” especially among people at stores, airlines, utilities and others that directly serve the public.Late one night, I was one of a half-dozen passengers whostraggled weary and grumbling off a plane that had been forced to land at the huge Dallas/Fort worth airport. Suddenly, a buoyant, cheerful, red-jacketed airline man waved us away from the regular waiting room seats, saying, “You sure look bushed. I know a big empty office where you can stretch out while you wait.” And we surely did. When the weather improved enough for us to leave,“Gene Erickson” was in m y notebook and, back home, I wrote the president of that airline describing his sensitivity and his courtesy. And I received a thank you!I travel a good deal on lecture tours and I urge students especially to tell their parents, grandparents, and other living elders simply “thank you” for all they have done to make possible the lives they now enjoy. Many students have told me they found themselves moved by the response. It is not really surprising, if one only reflects how it must feel to be thanked after you have given for years.Now, approaching thanksgiving of 1982, I have asked myself what will I wish for all who are reading this, for our nation, indeed for our whole world---since, quoting a good and wise friend of mine, “In the end we are mightily and merely people, each with similar needs.”First, I wish for us, of course, the simple common sense to achieve world peace, that being paramount for the very survival of our kind.And there is something else I wish---so strongly that I have had this line prin ted across the bottom of all my stationery:“Find the good---and praise it.”Fo’c’sle: contraction of forecastle, the part of the upper deck of a ship located in the bow (front), where the crew is usually housed.。