英语短文（小故事）我是要能跟同学搭档的.然后拿去比赛的.所以主要是两个人的对话之类的.要新颖一点的啊!我找来找去都是内几

英语短文（小故事）
我是要能跟同学搭档的.然后拿去比赛的.所以主要是两个人的对话之类的.
要新颖一点的啊!我找来找去都是内几篇.
要是能获奖.我真的是找的很辛苦了.请不要让我失望啊!

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A Boy and His Tree
A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and play around it every day. He climbed to the tree top, ate the apples, took a nap under the shadow… He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him.
　　Time went by…The little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree.
　　One day, the boy came back to the tree and looked sad. “Come and play with me,” the tree asked the boy.
　　“I am no longer a kid, I don’t play around trees anymore.” The boy replied, “I want toys. I need money to buy them.” “Sorry, but I don’t have money…but you can pick all my apples and sell them. So, you will have money.” The boy was so excited. He picked all the apples on the tree and left happily. The boy didn’t come back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad.
　　One day, the boy returned and the tree was so excited. “Come and play with me.” The tree said. “I don’t have time to play. I have to work for my family. We need a house for shelter. Can you help me?” “Sorry, but I don’t have a house. But you can cut off my branches to build your house.” So the boy cut all the branches of the tree and left happily.
　　The tree was glad to see him happy but the boy didn’t appear since then. The tree was again lonely and sad. One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted. “Come and play with me!” the tree said.
　　“I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself. Can you give me a boat?” “Use my trunk to build the boat. You can sail and be happy.” So the boy cut the tree trunk to make a boat. He went sailing and did not show up for a long time.
　　Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years. “Sorry, my boy. But I don’t have anything for you anymore. No more apples for you.” the tree said. “ I don’t have teeth to bite.” The boy replied. “ No more trunk for you to climb on.” “I am too old for that now.” the boy said. “I really want to give you something…the only thing left is my dying roots.” The tree said with tears. “I don’t need much now, just a place to rest. I am tired after all these years.” The boy replied. “Good! Old tree roots are the best place to lean on and rest. Come here, please sit down with me and have a rest.” The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears…
　　This is a story of everyone. The tree is our parent. When we were young, we loved to play with Mom and Dad… When we grow up, we leave them, and only come to them when we need something or when we are in trouble. No matter what, parents will always be there and give everything they could to make you happy. You may think that the boy is cruel to the tree but that's how all of us are treating our parents.
　　很久以前有一棵苹果树.一个小男孩每天都喜欢来到树旁玩耍.他爬到树顶,吃苹果,在树荫里打盹……他爱这棵树,树也爱和他一起玩.
　　随着时间的流逝,小男孩长大了.他不再到树旁玩耍了.
　　一天,男孩回到树旁,看起来很悲伤.“来和我玩吧!”树说.
　　“我不再是小孩了,我不会再到树下玩耍了.”男孩答到,“我想要玩具,我需要钱来买.”
　　“很遗憾,我没有钱……但是你可以采摘我的所有苹果拿去卖.这样你就有钱了.”男孩很兴奋.他摘掉树上所有的苹果,然后高兴地离开了.自从那以后男孩没有回来.树很伤心.
　　一天,男孩回来了,树非常兴奋.“来和我玩吧.”树说.“我没有时间玩.我得为我的家庭工作.我们需要一个房子来遮风挡雨,你能帮我吗?”很遗憾,我没有房子.但是,你可以砍下我的树枝来建房.“因此,男孩砍下所有的树枝,高高兴兴地离开了.
　　看到他高兴,树也很高兴.但是,自从那时起男孩没再出现,树有孤独,伤心起来.
　　突然,在一个夏日,男孩回到树旁,树很高兴.“来和我玩吧!”树说.
　　“我很伤心,我开始老了.我想去航海放松自己.你能不能给我一条船?” “用我的树干去造一条船,你就能航海了,你会高兴的.”于是,男孩砍倒树干去造船.他航海去了,很长一段时间未露面.
　　许多年后男孩终于回来了.“很遗憾,我的孩子,我再也没有任何东西可以给你了.没有苹果给你……”树说.“我没有牙齿啃.” 男孩答到.“没有树干供你爬.”“现在我老了,爬不上去了.” 男孩说.“我真的想把一切都给你……我唯一剩下的东西是快要死去的树墩.” 树含着眼泪说.“现在,我不需要什么东西,只需要一个地方来休息.经过了这些年我太累了.”男孩答到. “太好了!老树墩就是倚着休息的最好地方.过来,和我一起坐下休息吧.” 男孩坐下了,树很高兴,含泪而笑……
　　这是一个发生在每一个人身上的故事.那棵树就像我们的父母.我们小的时候,喜欢和爸爸妈妈玩……长大后,便离开他们,只有在我们需要父母亲,或是遇到了困难的时候,才会回去找他们.尽管如此,父母却总是有求必应,为了我们的幸福,无私地奉献自己的一切.你也许觉得那个男孩很残忍,但我们何尝不是这样呢?
Night after night, she came to tuck me in, even long after my childhood years. Following her longstanding custom, she'd lean down and push my long hair out of the way, then kiss my forehead.
I don't remember when it first started annoying me — her hands pushing my hair that way. But it did annoy me, for they felt work-worn and rough against my young skin. Finally, one night, I shouted out at her, "Don't do that anymore —your hands are too rough!" She didn't say anything in reply. But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of her love.
Time after time, with the passing years, my thoughts returned to that night. By then I missed my mother's hands, missed her goodnight kiss on my forehead. Sometimes the incident seemed very close, sometimes far away. But always it lurked, in the back of my mind.
Well, the years have passed, and I'm not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid-seventies, and those hands I once thought to be so rough are still doing things for me and my family. She's been our doctor, reaching into a medicine cabinet for the remedy to calm a young girl's stomach or soothe the boy's scraped knee. She cooks the best fried chicken in the world... gets stains out of blue jeans like I never could...
Now, my own children are grown and gone. Mom no longer has Dad, and on special occasions, I find myself drawn next door to spend the night with her. So it was late on Thanksgiving Eve, as I slept in the bedroom of my youth, a familiar hand hesitantly run across my face to brush the hair from my forehead. Then a kiss, ever so gently, touched my brow.