精選愛英語作文九篇

　　在日復(fù)一日的學(xué)習(xí)、工作或生活中，大家一定都接觸過作文吧，作文是從內(nèi)部言語向外部言語的過渡，即從經(jīng)過壓縮的簡要的、自己能明白的語言，向開展的、具有規(guī)范語法結(jié)構(gòu)的、能為他人所理解的外部語言形式的轉(zhuǎn)化。那么問題來了，到底應(yīng)如何寫一篇優(yōu)秀的作文呢？下面是小編為大家整理的愛英語作文9篇，歡迎閱讀與收藏。

愛英語作文 篇1

　　Motherly love by its very nature is unconditional. Mother loves the newborn infant because it is her child, not because the child has fulfilled any specific condition, or lived up to any specific expectation.Unconditional love corresponds in one of 'the deepest longings, not only of the child, but of every human being; on the other hand, to be loved because of one's merit, because one deserves it, always leaves doubt: maybe I did not please the person whom I want to love me, maybe this or that--there is always a fear that love could disappear. Furthermore, "deserved" love easily leaves a bitter feeling that one is not loved for oneself, that one is loved only because one pleases, that one is, in the last analysis, not loved at all but used. No wonder that we all cling to the longing for motherly love, as children and also as adults. The relationship to father is quite different. Mother is thehome we come from, she is nature, soil, the ocean; father does not represent any such natural home. He has little connection with the child in the first years of his life, and his importance for the child in this early period cannot be compared with that of mother. But while father does not represent thenatural world, he represents the other pole of human existence; the world of thought, of man-made things, of law and order, of discipline, of travel and adventure. Father is the one who teaches the child, who shows him the road into the world. Fatherly love is conditional love. Its principle is "1 love you because you fulfill my expectations, because you do your duty, because you are like me." In conditional fatherly love we find, as with unconditional motherly love, a negative and a positive aspect. The negative aspect is the very fact that fatherly love has to be deserved, that it can be lost if one does not do what is expected. The positive side is equally important.

愛英語作文 篇2

　　Love is of the utmost importance to us humans. Everybody not only needs love, but also should give others love. As can be seen in the picture, "love is a lamp which is brighter in darker places." This is indeed true. People in darker places need more light than other people. Maybe even a dim light can give them much hope for a better life. Maybe just a thread of light will call forth their strength and courage to help them step out of their difficulties. I can think of no better illustration of this idea than the following examples. (Numerous examples can be given easily, but these will suffice For instance when someone is starving to death, just a little food and water from you may save his(her) life. Again, when a little girl in a poor rural area drops out of school because of poverty, just a small sum of money from you may support her t o finish school and change her life. In these circumstances you have given love which is like a lamp in a dark place where light is most needed. To sum up, we should offer our help to all the needed. We expect to get love from others and we also give love to others. So when you see someone in difficulty or in distress and in need of help, don't hesitate to give your love to him (her). I believe that the relationship between people will be harmonious and our society will be a better place for us to live in.

愛英語作文 篇3

　　Love,

　　When you come with the burning lamp of pain in your hands,

　　I can see your face,

　　And know you as bliss.

　　The first time when I heard these verses, I was 17 years old, in full blossom as everyone assumed. Not knowing much about love, I instinctively regarded love as something seemingly beautiful but hard to chew in essence.

　　I＇m correct, to some extent. All the years I spent alone prove both disheartening and fruitless, disheartening because the ideal one never came down to the earth to cease my endless waiting; fruitless because I ended up in dating with a wrong person,leaving all the verses nonsense. To make matters worse, as they criticized me, I broke up with the guy in only 15 days, which conversely seemed to me a nice thing. Thank God I am free again.

　　I wrote poems myself as a way to approach love and the unknown world. No tiny little dust in the air will escape my eyes,no voice of the blooming will slip away from my ears, and love is all pervading, all pervading except in my world.

　　I can＇t resist the temptations of enjoy my life alone in reading, mind wandering, walking on the fallen leaves deep in thought, listening to music by some unknown artists, and of course, writing. I can＇t help trembling at the thought of being deprived of the freedom by someone outside my world. I hate to find myself wearing the coat from some strange guys with the angel wings still in the gesture to fly. I want to fly, not with the borrowed wings, but mine.

　　He will arrive at last, with his wings above my sky.

　　In 8 days I will have my 20th birthday, smiling shiningly in my autumn, murmuring the verses I changed myself,

　　Love,

　　When you come with the burning lamp of pain in your hands,

　　I can see your face

愛英語作文 篇4

　　Mother’s love wins people’s praises for its selflessness. In fact, father’s love is as great as that. They bury their love in the deep bottom of their hearts and will never show it. My father is of this kind. I remembered once I felt ill. Mother wasn’t at home at that moment. Father acted as a father and as a mother as well. When he came home from work, he would cook dinner for me first. The way he fed me made me think of my kind and tender mother. His eyes were full of love and expectation. I did feel a father’s love at that time.

　　參考翻譯

　　父愛

　　母親的愛因無私而贏得人們的贊揚。事實上，父親的`愛是如此的偉大。他們把自己的愛埋在心底，永遠不會顯露出來。我的父親是這樣的。我記得有一次我感到不舒服。那時母親不在家。父親是父親，母親也是母親。當(dāng)他下班回家時，他會先為我做晚飯。他喂我的方式使我想起了我那溫柔體貼的母親。他的眼睛充滿了愛和期待。那時我確實感到了父親的愛。

愛英語作文 篇5

　　My father is quiet, when we are at home, he always reads newspaper and less talk to me. Unlike my mother, she takes care of me all the time, my father never shows his love to me. One day, I fall off the bike and get hurt, when my father comes home, he buys me a lot of medicine. I feel his love now.

　　我的爸爸很安靜，當(dāng)我們在家的時候，他總是看報紙，很少和我交談。不像我的媽媽，她一直照顧著我，我的爸爸從來不向我展示他的愛。一天，我從自行車上跌下來，受傷了，當(dāng)爸爸回到家的時候，他給我買了很多藥。我感受到了他的'愛。

　　I have a beautiful room. Although my room is very small, I love it very much. Look, there is a bed near the window. I like sunshine so my bed is set near the window. In front of the bed, there is a desk on which is several series of books. Whats more, I have plastered my bedroom wall with photos of my family. The light in my bedroom is light pink because I like this color.

　　我有一間很漂亮的房間。雖然我的房間很小，但是我很喜歡它�？矗�靠近那里有一張床。我喜歡陽光所以我的床是安在窗戶邊的。床前有一張桌子，桌子上擺了幾套書。我還把臥室的墻都用我們家人的照片掛滿了。我臥室的燈是粉紅色的，因為我喜歡這個顏色。

　　Do you like my bedroom? If you like, come here and have a look!

　　你喜歡我的臥室嗎?如果你喜歡，來看看吧!

　　I like sports, because doing sports is really a good thing. Firstly, it helps me keep healthy. Exercise is one of the most active and effective means to enhance the physical health. Secondly, doing sports is a good way to relax. When you are upset, sport may pull you out from depression. Finally, its easier to make friends while take part in sport activities, because you have the same interest. It’s important for making friends. All in all, I get a lot from sports.

　　我喜歡體育運動，因為參加體育運動是一件很好的事情。首先，它能幫助我保持健康。體育鍛煉是增強體質(zhì)的最積極、有效的手段之一。其次，鍛煉是一種很好的發(fā)送方式。當(dāng)你煩惱的時候，運動能把你從失落里拯救出來。最后，在體育運動中更容易交到朋友，因為你們有共同的興趣愛好，這對交友來說是很重要的�？偟膩碚f，通過體育運動，我得到了許多。

　　I am a primary school student. And I am the only child in my family. My families take too good care of me. They often work too much for me. Therefore, I hope they can help me to be independent. I want to do the things by myself. I know they love me, but I think it’s not so good to me. After all, I have to grow up by myself.

　　我是一名小學(xué)生。我是家里唯一的孩子，所以我的家人都過度地關(guān)心我了。他們常常替我做很多事情。因此，我希望他們能幫助我學(xué)會獨立。我想自己去做一些事情。我知道他們這是愛我，但是我認為這對我不太好。畢竟，我是要自己成長的。

愛英語作文 篇6

　　Occasionally, without warning, the drunken wreckage of my father would wash up on our doorstep, late at night, stammering, laughing, reeking of booze. Bang! Bang! Bang! Beating on the door, pleading to my mother to open it.

　　有時候，在毫無預(yù)兆的情況下，父親會半夜醉醺醺地出現(xiàn)在我們家門口，結(jié)結(jié)巴巴地講著酒話，時而大笑幾聲，滿嘴酒氣。砰！砰！砰！大力敲著門，懇求母親為他開門。

　　He was on his way home from drinking, gambling, or some combination thereof, squandering money that we could have used and wasting time that we desperately needed.

　　他要么剛剛喝完酒回來，或賭了幾把，要么兩者皆有。他揮霍著我們本可以用于日常開銷的血汗錢，還浪費了我們迫切需要的時間——和父親在一起的時間。

　　It was the late-1970s. My parents were separated. My mother was now raising a gaggle of boys on her own. She was a newly minted schoolteacher. He was a juke-joint musician-turned-construction worker.

　　那是20世紀70年代末。我的父母離婚了。那時，母親獨自一人撫養(yǎng)著我們幾個兒子。她是一位新上任的老師。父親原本是一名鄉(xiāng)間酒館的駐場樂師，后來成了建筑工人。

　　He spouted off about what he planned to do for us, buy for us. In fact, he had no intention of doing anything. The one man who was supposed to be genetically programmed to love us, in fact, lacked the understanding of what it truly meant to love a child—or to hurt one.

　　他喋喋不休地說自己計劃為我們做什么、買什么。事實上，他根本不打算做任何事情。一個在血緣關(guān)系上本應(yīng)該愛我們的人，實際上并不懂得對孩子而言什么才是真正的愛，也不知道什么是傷害。

　　To him, this was a harmless game that kept us excited and begging. In fact, it was a cruel, corrosive deception that subtly and unfairly shifted the onus of his lack of emotional and financial investment from him to us. I lost faith in his words and in him. I wanted to stop caring, but I couldn’t.

　　對他來說，這是一種并無惡意的游戲，它讓我們時而興奮，時而覺得像在乞討。但這實際上是一種侵蝕性的殘酷欺騙，它巧妙卻又不公平地將他對我們?nèi)狈Ω星楹臀镔|(zhì)投入這一責(zé)任轉(zhuǎn)移到我們身上。我不相信他的話，對他完全不信任。我想不去在乎他，但我做不到。

　　Maybe it was his own complicated relationship to his father and his father’s family that rendered him cold. Maybe it was the pain and guilt associated with a life of misfortune. Who knows. Whatever it was, it stole him from us, and particularly from me.

　　也許是他與自己的父親及其復(fù)雜的家庭關(guān)系，使他變得冷酷。也許是他生活的不幸所造成的痛苦和內(nèi)疚使然。誰知道呢。不管是什么，反正它把他從我們這里偷走了，特別是從我這里。

　　While my brothers talked ad nauseam about breaking and fixing things, I spent many of my evenings reading and wondering. My favorite books were a set of encyclopedias given by my uncle. They allowed me to explore the world beyond my world, to travel without leaving, to dream dreams greater than my life would otherwise have supported.

　　當(dāng)我的兄弟們沒完沒了地談?wù)撛鯓硬鸾馄茐脑僦匦迻|西時，我卻在許許多多個晚上潛心閱讀和思考。我最喜歡的書是我叔叔給的一套百科全書。這些書讓我探索超越我成長天地以外的大世界，足不出戶隨心旅行，做那些遠非我生活所能承載的美夢。

　　But losing myself in my own mind also meant that I was completely lost to my father.

　　但沉醉在自我意識里，也意味著在父親眼中我變得完全陌生了。

　　He could relate to my brothers’ tactile approaches to the world but not to my cerebral one. Not understanding me, he simply ignored me—not just emotionally, but physically as well. Never once did he hug me, never once a pat on the back or a hand on the shoulder or a tousling of the hair.

　　他能明白我兄弟們那種打打鬧鬧闖世界的方式，卻從不懂我心田開智慧的那一套。他不理解我，就干脆無視我——不僅情感關(guān)懷欠奉，對我根本視若無睹。他從來沒有擁抱過我，從沒拍過我的后背，也不會搭我的肩膀或撥弄一下我的頭發(fā)。

　　My best memories of him were from his episodic attempts at engagement.

　　他留給我的最美好回憶是他時不時地嘗試和我們接觸。

　　During the longest of these episodes, once every month or two, he would come pick us up and drive us down the interstate to Trucker’s Paradise, a seedy, smoke-filled, truck stop with gas pumps, a convenience store, a small dining area and a game room through a door in the back.

　　這些插曲中持續(xù)時間最長的是，每隔一兩個月，他會來接我們，沿著州際公路驅(qū)車把我們帶到卡車司機樂園。這是一個破爛、煙霧繚繞的載貨汽車停車場，有加油站、一家便利店、一個小小的用餐區(qū)，還有穿過背后一扇門即可到達的一間游戲室。

　　My dad gave each of us a handful of quarters, and we played until they were gone. He sat up front in the dining area, drinking coffee and being particular about the restaurant’s measly offerings.

　　父親給我們每個人一把硬幣，我們一直玩到輸光硬幣才停下來。他就坐在用餐區(qū)前面，一邊喝咖啡，一邊挑剔著餐廳里食物的份量太少。

　　I loved these days. To me, Trucker’s Paradise was paradise. The quarters and the games were fun but easily forgotten. It was the presence of my father that was most treasured. But, of course, these trips were short-lived. And so it was. Every so often he would make some sort of effort, but every time it wouldn’t last.

　　我喜歡那些日子。對我來說，卡車司機樂園的確是一個天堂。硬幣和游戲充滿了樂趣，只是容易被遺忘。最寶貴的是父親能來。但是，當(dāng)然了，好景不長。事實的'確如此。時而，他會努力擠出時間，但每次都不會持續(xù)很長時間。

　　It wasn’t until I was much older that I would find something that I would be able to cling to as evidence of my father’s love.

　　直到年齡漸長，我才找到一些可以體現(xiàn)其父愛的證據(jù)。

　　When the Commodore 64 personal computer debuted, I convinced myself that I had to have it even though its price was out of my mother’s range. So I decided to earn the money myself. I mowed every yard I could find that summer for a few dollars each, yet it still wasn’t enough. So my dad agreed to help me raise the rest of the money by driving me to one of the watermelon farms south of town, loading up his truck with wholesale melons and driving me around to sell them.

　　當(dāng)Commodore 64型個人電腦上市時，我下定決心要買一臺，即使它的價格超出了我母親的支付能力。于是我決定自己賺錢。那年夏天，我給能找到的每一個庭院割草，每家賺幾美元，但錢還是不夠。于是父親答應(yīng)幫我去籌集剩下的錢。他驅(qū)車帶我去鎮(zhèn)上南面的一家西瓜農(nóng)場，把批發(fā)買來的西瓜裝上卡車，帶著我去附近的地方把西瓜賣出去。

　　He came for me before daybreak. We made small talk, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he was talking to me was all that mattered. I was a teenager by then, but this was the first time that I had ever spent time alone with him. He laughed and repeatedly introduced me as “my boy,” a phrase he relayed with a palpable sense of pride. It was one of the best days of my life.

　　天亮前，他來接我。我們閑聊了一會兒，但這不是重點。重要的是他和我聊天。那時我已是一個青少年，但那卻是我第一次與他獨處。他笑著，并多次在向別人介紹 “這是我的兒子，”這樣四個字，被他用一種明顯的自豪語氣傳達著。那是我生命中最美好的時光。

　　Although he had never told me that he loved me, I would cling to that day as the greatest evidence of that fact. He had never intended me any wrong. He just didn’t know how to love me right. He wasn’t a mean man.

　　雖然他從未說過他愛我，但我會認定，那天是他愛我這一事實成立的最大證據(jù)。他從沒想過對我造成任何傷害。他只是不知道用什么方式來愛我。他并不是一個壞心腸的人。

　　So I took these random episodes and clung to them like a thing most precious, squirreling them away for the long stretches of coldness when a warm memory would prove most useful.

　　所以我拾起這些偶然出現(xiàn)的片段，并堅持認為它們是最珍貴的東西。我將它們珍藏著，在冷漠的記憶長河中，這些溫暖的片段最為窩心。

　　It just goes to show that no matter how estranged the father, no matter how deep the damage, no matter how shattered the bond, there is still time, still space, still a need for even the smallest bit of evidence of a father’s love.

　　我的經(jīng)歷只是表明：不管父親曾經(jīng)與你如何疏遠，無論他對你造成了多深的傷害，無論你們之間的紐帶是如何破裂的，你仍有時間、有空間，并且有必要去找尋哪怕是能證明父愛的最小的證據(jù)。

　　“My boy.”

　�。ㄕ�如）“我的兒子�！�

　　A Parable of a Child

　　一個孩子的寓言

　　by Steve Goodier

　　父母說：“我有一個孩子，他/她將來會成為一名……”

　　孩子說：“我是你們的孩子，我將來會成為一名……”

　　省略號的內(nèi)容由你決定！教育與經(jīng)驗之間是有區(qū)別的。教育就是從閱讀文字所得到的，而經(jīng)驗是從不閱讀而得到的�？匆粋�故事，你就會明白“偉大的學(xué)習(xí)來自于教育和經(jīng)驗的結(jié)合”。

　　一名青年教師夢見天使出現(xiàn)在他面前，對他說：“你將會有一個孩子，他/她將來會成為一名世界領(lǐng)袖。你得讓她意識到自己的智慧，增長自信心，開發(fā)她果斷不失細膩，虛心而又堅韌的性格特質(zhì)，你會如何為她做準備呢？”

　　夢醒時，青年教師一身冷汗。他從沒經(jīng)歷過這種事情。照夢中所說的，他現(xiàn)在或?qū)�來的學(xué)生之中的任何一個人都有可能有成為他夢中聽到的那個人物。他準備好了要去幫助他們實現(xiàn)每一個志向嗎？他默默想：“既然知道了某一個學(xué)生會成為那個人物，那么我的教學(xué)方式該怎么改變一下呢？”一步一步地，他已經(jīng)開始暗自籌劃了。

　　這名學(xué)生不僅需要有經(jīng)歷，而且需要有人指導(dǎo)。他的教學(xué)方式改變了。對他而言，每一個走過他教室的年輕人都有可能成為未來的世界領(lǐng)袖。他看這些學(xué)生時，不是看他們曾經(jīng)是什么樣子，而是看他們將來可能成為什么樣子。他以一種平和的心態(tài)期盼學(xué)生發(fā)揮最大的潛力。他在教育學(xué)生時，仿佛世界的未來完全掌握在他的教導(dǎo)中。

　　多年以后，他所認識的一名女子成為舉世矚目的人物。這時他才悟出，她就是那晚夢中天使所說的那個女孩。只是，她不是他的學(xué)生，而是他的女兒。在女兒一生所遇到的老師之中，他是最棒的。

　　我聽過這樣一句話：“孩子是我們給自己無法預(yù)見的某個時間、某個地點所發(fā)送出去的活信息�！笨蛇@并不僅僅是一則有關(guān)一個無名教師的寓言，而是有關(guān)你我的寓言——不論我們是為人父母，還是為人師表。而這個故事——我們的故事，其實是這樣開始的：

　　“你將有一個孩子，他/她將來會成為一名……”你來填完這個句子吧，如果不填“世界領(lǐng)袖”，那么“絕世好爸”也行；再要不“優(yōu)秀教師”？“妙手神醫(yī)”？“不按常理出牌的問題克星”？“鼓舞人心的藝術(shù)家”？或是“慷慨無私的慈善家”？

　　你會在何地、如何遇見這個孩子，那是一個謎。可是，你要相信，一個孩子的將來很有可能就取決于你給他/她所造成的影響；也要相信，孩子會出人頭地的。對你來說，任何孩子都是不平凡的，你也因此脫胎換骨。

　　A young school teacher had a dream that an angel appeared to him and said, “You will be given a child who will grow up to become a world leader. How will you prepare her so that she will realize her intelligence, grow in confidence, develop both her assertiveness and sensitivity, be open-minded, yet strong in character？”

　　The young teacher awoke in a cold sweat. It had never occurred to him before——any ONE of his present or future students could be the person described in his dream. Was he preparing them to rise to ANY POSITION to which they may aspire？ He thought, “How might my teaching change if I KNEW that one of my students were this person？” He gradually began to formulate a plan in his mind.

　　This student would need experience as well as instruction. His teaching changed. Every young person who walked through his classroom became, for him, a future world leader. He saw each one, not as they were, but as they could be. He expected the best from his students, yet tempered it with compassion. He taught each one as if the future of the world depended on his instruction.

　　After many years, a woman he knew rose to a position of world prominence. He realized that she must surely have been the girl described in his dream. Only she was not one of his students, but rather his daughter. For of all the various teachers in her life, her father was the best.

　　I’ve heard it said that “Children are living messages we send to a time and place we will never see.” But this isn’t simply a parable about an unnamed school teacher. It is a parable about you and me——whether or not we are parents or even teachers. And the story, OUR story, actually begins like this:

　　“You will be given a child who will grow up to become…” You finish the sentence. If not a world leader, then a superb father？ An excellent teacher？ A gifted healer？ An innovative problem solver？ An inspiring artist？ A generous philanthropist？

　　Where and how you will encounter this child is a mystery. But believe that one child’s future may depend upon influence only you can provide, and something remarkable will happen. For no young person will ever be ordinary to you again. And you will never be the same.

愛英語作文 篇7

：Thanks to my parents

　　Our parents gave us lives,they gave us love.they talked with me to taught me language.they played with me,took care of me,gave me delicious meals,they gave me many classes to live.when I smiled,they were happier than me.when I cried,they were sadder than me.when I made mistakes,they were angery with me.They gave me much love,they gave me a warm family.Thanks to my parents.

愛英語作文 篇8

　　Father's love

　　All say that love is great and selfless, in fact, fatherly love is express volumes.

　　My father is a carpenter, a black and a white hair, a pair of one's eyes brimming with radiating vigour eyes, big nose is a lovely catfish mouth. This is my ordinary father.

　　My father is a real redneck, usually not much words, silent as a mountain. But the simple, honest, can not cover up the elegant temperament, he always pay attention to their words, in their own words and deeds to tell me the truth in life.

　　Once, my father took a wooden work, nor let the father on the door to do color pretty, red. My father came home for dinner, thinking of this, watch TV and thinking about it. I couldn't help, complained: " Dad, you still think which! You play nice, people do not give you money, play is not pretty, and they will not give you the money, but also so much, why old miss! "

　　Father says: " no no, play beautiful even though he does not give me money, but I the performance obtained his approval, he will be looking for me to do the work, n

愛英語作文 篇9

　　It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?

　　Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry, but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear, the happy past seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands, that she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.

　　Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long has it been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.

　　The next day, I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.

　　And again, she comes. And again, she brings me an apple, flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.

　　This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

　　For seven months, we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.

　　One day, I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend. The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple tomorrow," I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see me standing there, with tears streaming down my face.

　　Months pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, I taste those apples.

　　And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life. Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.

　　"Where were you during the war?" Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.

　　"I was in a concentration camp in Germany," I reply.

　　Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.

　　"What is it?" I ask.

　　"I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy."

　　Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other-after all, we were young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could-but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."

　　With my heart pounding so loudly I think it wil1 explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, "And did that boy say to you one day, 'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'?"

　　"Why, yes," Roma responds, her voice trembling.

　　"But, Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?"

　　I take her hands in mine and answer, "Because I was that young boy, Roma."

　　For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other, and as the veils of time lift, we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving, whom we have never stopped remembering.

　　Finally, I speak: "Look, Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now, I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?"

　　I see that same twinkle in her eye that I used to see as Roma says, "Yes, I will marry you," and we embrace, the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us. Now, nothing ever will again.

　　Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.

　　Valentine's Day, 1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:

　　"Darling, you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry, for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."

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