阅读理解
In the dining room stood a large
grandfather clock. Meals in that dining room were a time for four generations
to become one. Always that clock stood like an old family friend, watching over
the laughter and gentle joking.
As a child, I was amazed at how at
different times of the day, that clock would chime(鸣响). I found the clock comforting. Year after year, the clock chimed, a
part of my memories, a part of my heart.
Even more wonderful to me was that my
grandfather wound(上发条)that clock with a special
key each day, which kept the clock chiming. I remember watching as my
grandfather put into the key and wound not too much, never overwind, nor too
little. He never let that clock wind down and stop. When we grandkids got a
little older, he showed us how to open the door. After my beloved grandfather
died, it was several days after the funeral(葬礼)before I
remembered the clock！
Tears flowed freely when I walked into the
dining room. The clock stood lonely quiet. Without my grandfather's special
touch, I couldn't stand to look at it.
Years later, my grandmother gave me the
clock and the key. The old house was quiet. No laughter and gentle joking over
the dinner table, no chiming of the clock-all was still(寂静的). I took the key in my shaking hand and opened the clock door. All
of a sudden, I was a child again, watching my grandfather looking at me, at the
secret of the clock's magic, at the key that held so much power. Slowly, I put
into the key and wound the clock. The dining room and my heart were filled with
life and chimes. In the movement of the hands of the clock, my grandfather
lived again.
