INTENSIVE COURSE

25 Aug 2021

Read the following passages and choose the best answers to the questions.

PASSAGE 01
The Letter
The letter came one Saturday at the end of April, when Imogen Doody was retrieving balls from the canteen
roof. This was part of her job as caretaker, and the whole process represented an ongoing battle between her and
the entire male population of the school. She knew they threw them up on purpose, but she had to remain one step
ahead. Once she had the balls in her possession, she could confiscate them for a fortnight. It was a hot day, even
hotter on the roof, so she was anxious to get down as soon as possible.
She could see the postman walking up the path from the main school building. Patrick Saunders, an odd man –
the children called him Postman pat. He ambled and stopped to talk to anyone who was interested, which meant his
delivery times were unreliable. She remained where she was on the edge of the flat roof, not wanting to be seen,
unwilling to talk to him. From her high position, she could see that he was nearly bald, and there were clusters of
dark freckles on his head, brown against the unconvincing wisps of his pale hair. She didn’t like this glimpse of his
frailty. It made her feel sorry for him, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to express that sympathy.
He rang twice, and kept shifting his bag from one shoulder to the other while he waited. Doody resented this.
Why should I have to worry about his aching back? He chose to be a postman.
She threw down a ball – orange, soggy, in need of new air – and he jumped. He squinted up at her through the
fingers of his free hand, and she was pleased that he couldn’t see her properly.
‘Why are you ringing the bell?’
He waved a letter at her. ‘I’ve got this.’
‘You can put letters through the letter-box. Get it? Letters – letter-boxes.’
He shrugged and turned away. ‘Please yourself. It's a registered post.’
‘Hang on,’ she called, and came down the ladder. He was waiting for her at the bottom.
‘It’s not addressed to you.’
Doody scowled at him. She put her hands into her pockets and pulled out a handful of small balls, multi-colored
and very bouncy. She dropped them, and they scattered in all directions. Their bouncing continued until they settled
cheerfully into drains, corners, dips in the Tarmac, delighted with their miraculous escape. ‘So you ring the doorbell
twice to give me a letter that you’re not going to give me?’
‘It’s your address, but it says Imogen Hayes.’
She tried to take it from him, but he moved it out of her reach. ‘That’s me. How many Imogens do you know?’
‘So why’s the name different? Is it your undercover name?’ He looked pleased with himself. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I’m
a Latvian sleeper. Waiting to be activated. Perhaps that’s what you’ve got there. My orders.’
Anything would be more interesting than the reality of her present life. She reached for the letter, but he moved it
away again.
Anger was brewing inside her, bubbling away ominously, but she wanted the letter, so she made herself speak in
a calm manner. ‘It’s my maiden name. I was Imogen Hayes a long time ago. Now I’m Imogen Doody. Mrs. Doody to
you.’
He gave in. He was looking very uncomfortable, with beads of sweat on his top lip, his feet shuffling. She
snatched the letter out of his hand and he didn’t resist. ‘You have to sign for it.’
She took his pen and signed the electronic screen he put in front of her. Should she offer him a cold
drink? If he’d done his job properly, he wouldn’t have been standing so long in the hot sun.
‘Thanks!’ she shouted at his retreating back.
He didn’t turn around. He let himself out of the gate and plodded heavily past the blue iron railings of the school.
He was stubborn, but too pedestrian for a real argument.
Doody was pleased to have had the last word, and the fact that it had been a gracious word made her feel even
better. She decided to make herself a glass of lemonade before opening the letter.
1. In the first paragraph we learn that Imogen
a. resents a certain aspect of her job.
b. secretly intends to throw the balls away.
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c. will need to return the balls to their owners eventually
d. is upset by the attitude of the boys at the school
2. Imogen feels sorry for the postman when she sees him coming up the path because
a. he is showing signs of age
b. he walks slowly
c. she thinks he is lonely
d. the children tease him
3. Why does the postman find it hard to see Imogen when she looks up?
a. His backache makes it difficult for him to stand up straight
b. his eyesight is poor
c. She is hiding from him on the roof
d. The sky behind her is very bright
4. The postman suggests that the surname on the letter is Hayes rather than Doody
because
a. Imogen is using a false name
b. the letter writer has made a mistake
c. Imogen changed her name when she married (she says, not he thinks)
d. Imogen has done something illegal
5. Imogen decides not to offer the postman a cold drink because
a. she wants to open the letter quickly
b. she is annoyed that he made her sign for the letter
c. she doesn’t want to talk to him any longer
d. she convinces herself that he doesn’t deserve it.
6. The writer suggests that the reason the postman avoids an argument with Imogen is that
a. he wants to get out of the heat
b. he knows he wouldn’t win ( he is pedestrian_too simple-minded to argue with her)
c. he is angry with Imogen
d. he is late in delivering his letters
7. What do we learn about Imogen from the text?
a. She doesn’t like to talk about her feelings
b. She finds it difficult to express her feelings in a positive way
c. She is satisfied with her life at present
d. She is reluctant to get into conversation with people

PASSAGE 02

My life as a human speed bump

Giving up a car has not been quite the liberating experience that George Monbiot had hoped
Seventeen years after giving up my car, I still feel like a second-class citizen. I am trying to do the right thing, but
the United Kingdom just isn’t run for people like me. Take our bus services. My home city, Oxford, has invested
massively in a park-and-ride scheme: buses shuttle people into the centre from car parks on the periphery. At first I
thought this was a great idea. Now, having stood for what must amount to weeks at bus stops, watching the full
double deckers go by every couple of minutes without stopping, I realise it’s not just the roads which have been
monopolized by drivers, but also the public transport system.
Or take the bike lanes. Most consists of lines painted on the road where it is wide and safe, which disappear as
soon as it becomes narrow and dangerous. One of them, in Oxford, has been graveled, which shows that the people
who designed them have never ridden a bicycle. When we asked for a bike lane on one of the city’s busiest streets,
the council chose instead to narrow the street and widen the pavements, in the hope that the bicycles would slow
down the cars. The cyclists, perversely reluctant to become human speed bumps, started travelling down the
pavement.
 Now there is almost nowhere reserved for people like me. Out of political cowardice, councils and the police have
given up enforcing the law. Preventing people from parking on the pavement would mean cutting the number of
parking places, as the streets are otherwise too narrow. Though they cannot complete a sentence without using the
words ‘sustainable development’, this action seems impossible for our councilors to contemplate. In one part of
Oxford they have solved the problem by painting parking places on the pavement. Since my daughter was born, and
I have started pushing a pram, I have been forced to walk in the middle of the road. In one respect this makes
sense: the pavements are so badly maintained that she will only sleep when she’s being pushed down the smooth
grey carpet laid out for the cars.
My problem is that by seeking to reduce my impact on the planet, I joined a political minority that is diminishing
every year. As car ownership increases, its only remaining members are a handful of eccentrics like me, the very poor
and those not competent to drive. None of these groups wield political power. Our demands are counter-aspirational,
and therefore of little interest to either politicians or the media.
Now, to my horror, I find I am beginning to question even the environmental impact of my 17 years of
abstinence. It is true that my own carbon emissions have been suppressed. It is also true that if everyone did the
same thing the total saving would be enormous. The problem is that, in the absence of regulation, traffic expands to
fill the available space. By refusing to own a car I have merely opened up road space for other people, who tend to
drive more fuel hungry models than I would have chosen. We can do little to reduce our impacts on the environment
if the government won’t support us.
There are some compensations, however. About three or four times a year I hire a car. When I stop at motorway
service stations, I am struck by the staggering levels of obesity: it appears to be far more prevalent there than on
trains or coaches. People who take public transport must at least walk to the bus stop. The cyclists among us keep fit
without even noticing.
Being without a car in Oxford has forced me to embed myself in my home town. It throws me into contact with
far more people than I would otherwise meet. There are a couple of routes which make cycling a real pleasure: the
towpath along the Thames, for example, takes me most of the way to the station. But overall, as far as self-interest is
concerned, I would struggle to claim that giving up my car was a wholly positive decision.
1. The writer’s view of the Oxford park-and-ride scheme is that
a. the large volume of cars prevents it from operating effectively.
b. it has been an unqualified success
c. it has suffered from insufficient investment
d. it has become too popular
2. The writer thinks that cyclists started travelling down the pavement in one of Oxford’s busiest streets
because
a. the council put speed bumps in this street
b. the pavement is very wide
c. there is no bike lane in this street
d. in the bike lane cyclists are too close to cars
3. In what way does the writer believe that Oxford city council has shown ‘political
cowardice’?
a. It is reluctant to prevent cars parking on pedestrian areas.
b. It doesn’t want cyclists on the city’s roads
c. It has narrowed some roads to discourage cyclists from using them
d. It has a policy of sustainable development
4. According to the writer, the ‘political minority’ that he is part of
a. is becoming poorer
b. has little political influence
c. consists of people who can’t drive
d. includes people who act in a strange way
5. In paragraph 5 the writer suggests that the effect of his actions has been to
a. discourage the government from giving support
b. lower maintenance standards for pavements
c. create more room on the road for other cars
d. encourage others to drive bigger cars
6. The writer’s observations at motorway service stations suggest to him that
a. car drivers are more overweight than public transport users
b. people who own cars are thinner than people who hire them
c. people who use public transport don’t get enough exercise
d. cyclists ride bikes in order to keep fit
7. According to the writer, being without a car in Oxford
a. has been a completely positive experience
b. has increased the number of people he knows
c. has forced him to stay at home more
d. has been a complete mistake

PASSAGE 03

LIFE’S GOOD!
WHY DO WE FEEL BAD?
We’ve tried shopping and New Age cures, making money and spending it. We’re still miserable. What’s missing
from our lives?
Did you notice an outbreak of joviality and generosity last week? People beaming at you as they let you go ahead
in the bus queue, grinning as they shared your morning traffic jam, smirking through the quarterly budge planning
meeting?
No? the organisers of National Smile Week will be down in the mouth. All their efforts to perk us up for at least
seven days have run, it seems, into the sand of our collective skepticism. Four out of ten of us think life has become
worse in the past five years. Two million of us are on antidepressants; only a minority of us think ‘people can be
trusted most of the time’. Mix in some road/ air/ office/ phone rage, a rise in reported incivility and a good close of
political apathy and the gloom looks even starker. We’re a wretched lot.
All this when average house prices have just blasted through the £100,000 mark, when life expectancy continues
to lengthen, mortalitymorality rates are dropping and more than a third of young people enjoy what was once the
elite privilege of higher education. We are healthy, wealthy and wise. Yet we’ve never felt so bad.
If we seem like a nation of ingrates it may be because all the goodies that are supposed to make us happy don’t
do it for us anymore – even if we have yet to wake up to the fact. So, your house is worth half a million. Karl Marx,
who for all his faults knew a bit about capitalism, captured the keeping-up-with-the-Joneses dynamic of market
economies perfectly; ‘A house may be large or small; it satisfies all the social requirements or a residence. But let
there arise next to the little house a palace and the little house shrinks to a hut.’ With mass media, the palace
doesn’t have to be next door – it can be beamed into our living rooms.
Money doesn’t make most of us happy any more. Poor people, understandably, see their life satisfaction rise with
income but for most of the population in a country as affluent as ours, any jump-start to well-being from a pay rise
quickly wears off. ‘I was window-shopping in the South of France recently and I saw a diamond-studded wooly hat,
and I quite fancied it.’ When we get to that stage we should realise that more money isn’t getting us much more in
terms of happiness. Harrods is currently carrying a pair of shoes priced at a cool million – imagine if somebody
stepped on your foot.
But what about health? Surely the virtual elimination of most fatal diseases, rising life expectancy and falling
morality should be cheering us up? Not a bit of it. All that happens is that our expectations rise just as or even more
quickly. Objectively, our health is better on almost every count, but this doesn’t translate into our feeling any
healthier. We are more aware of our health, so we get more anxious about it. Medicine has become a victim of its
own success: having massively reduced the chances of death in childbirth, for example, people are now shocked if a
life is lost – and reach for a lawyer. Death was unavoidable – now it is unacceptable.
Like the answer to many great problems, however, the answer to the question of happiness may be quite
prosaic: once countries and households are free of material need, the biggest contributor to life satisfaction seems to
be a healthy set of personal relationships. The relative happiness of late teenagers and those passing middle age
may relate to their spending more time on relationships. The thirtysomethings, fighting on the two fronts of work
and children, are the most dejected. Those between full-time education and retirement may be spending more time
on the activities they will make them happy – earning and spending – than on those that actually will: spending time
with friends and family.
This friend-shaped gap explains the American paradox – why the residents of the richest nation in the world are
so glum – according to Professor Robert E. Lane at Yale University. ‘There is a kind of famine of warm interpersonal
relations, of easy-to-reach neighbors, of encircling, inclusive memberships, and of solid family life,’ he says.
The secret of happiness? Not money. So leave the lawn, forget your investments and call in sick tomorrow. Do
yourself a favour. Phone a friend.
1. What can be inferred about National Smile Week?
a. Its organisers did not expect it to succeed.
b. It seems to have annoyed some people.
c. It was largely unsuccessful.
d. It was not ambitious enough.
2. Which of the following is implied in the second paragraph?
a. People are getting stingier
b. People are getting less polite
c. People are arguing more about politics
d. People are working longer hours
3. What is the writer referring to when he says ‘ the palace can be beamed into our living
rooms’?
a. advertising
b. over-work
c. politics
d. depression
4. An increase in earnings fails to make most people happier because
a. their expenses are incredibly high
b. they realise that’s not where happiness lies.
c. there is always someone who earns more
d. they don’t have financial problems
5. According to the writer, improvements in health care
a. made no difference to the public’s mood
b. alleviated some health worries
c. directly led to increased anxiety
d. only caused complex legal issues
6. On average, people in their early thirties
a. have more friends
b. have happier marriages
c. are better – educated
d. face more problems

Nowadays, despite being wealthier and healthier, we are still depressed. To the launchers of National Smile Week
disappointment, all they have done to cheer us up is unsuccessful. With regard to money, being well-off does not
mean we are happier since, surprisingly, we do not have financial issues and thus, our lives become tedious. In
terms of health, the improvements in medical treatment even put us under more pressure of keeping lives. Among
all age groups, people in their 30s seem to focus too much on materialistic lifestyle rather than maintaining
healthy relationships.

PASSAGE 04

The Book of the Century

A classic of our times or an escapist yarn? Although its popularity is unparalleled, some intellectuals dismiss The
Lord of the Rings as boyish fantasy. Andrew O’Hehir defends Tolkien’s ‘true myth’ as a modern masterpiece, and
attempts to discover the secret of its success.
In January 1997, reporter Susan Jeffreys of the London Sunday Times informed a colleague that J.R.R Tolkien’s
epic fantasy The Lord of the Rings had been voted the greatest book of the 20th century in a readers’ poll conducted
by Britain’s Channel 4 and the Waterstone’s bookstore chain. Her colleague responded: ‘What? Has it? Oh dear. Dear
oh dear oh dear.’
 Attitudes in America are arguably more relaxed about this kind of thing. No one from the American educated
classes expressed much dismay when a 1999 poll of American on-line bookshop Amazon.com customers chose The
Lord of the Rings as the greatest book not merely of the century but of the millennium. Tolkien’s book is so deeply
ingrained in popular culture, after all, that a great many of today’s American academics and journalists probably still
have those dog-eared paperbacks they read avidly in eighth grade with their hallucinatory mid-1970s cover art,
stashed somewhere in the attic.
Furthermore, members of the US intelligentsia fully expect to have their tastes ignored, if not openly derided, by
the public at large. To some American intellectuals it seems gratifying, even touching, that so many millions of
readers will happily devour a work as complicated as The Lord of the Rings. Whatever one may make of it, it’s a
more challenging read than Gone With the Wind (runner-up in the Amazon survey), not to mention Harry Potter and
the Sorcerer’s Stone (fifth place).
Hugely ambitious in scope, The Lord of the Rings occupies an uncomfortable position in 20th century literature.
Tolkien’s epic poses a stern challenge to modern literature and its defenders. (Tolkien on his critics: ‘Some who have
read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible; and I have no cause to
complain, since I have similar opinions of their works, or of the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer.’) Yet The
Lord of the Rings has enjoyed massive ad enduring popularity. It would seem that Tolkien’s work supplied something
that was missing among the formal innovations of 20th century fiction, something for which readers were ravenous.
But what was it, and why was it important?
Answering this question properly would probably require a book rather than an article. But it seems that the crux
of the matter lies in Tolkien’s wholehearted rejection of modernity and modernism. This is what so powerfully attracts
some readers, and just as powerfully repels others. In his book J.R.R Tolkien: Author of the Century, T.A. Shippey
expands on this notion by arguing that Tolkien saw his realm of Middle-earth not as fiction or invention, but as the
recovery of something genuine that had become buried beneath fragments of fairy tale and nursery rhyme.
‘However fanciful Tolkien’s creation of Middle-earth was,’ Shippey writes, ‘he did not think that he was entirely
making it up. He was ‘reconstructing’, he was harmonizing contradictions in his source-texts, sometimes he was
supplying entirely new concepts (like hobbits), but he was also reaching back to an imaginative world which he
believed had once really existed, at least in a collective imagination.’
The book is also deeply grounded in Tolkien’s linguistic expertise – he invented whole languages for his
characters. Sometimes he became so absorbed in the creation of languages, in fact, that he put the story itself aside
for months or years at a time, believing he could not continue until some quandary or inconsistency in his invented
realm had been resolved. But Tolkien’s immense intellect and erudition is not the source of his success; without his
storytelling gift, The Lord of the Rings would be little more than a curiosity. And this gift seems to stem straight from
his refusal to break from classical and traditional forms.
Tolkien himself often spoke of his work as something ‘found’ or ‘discovered’, something whose existence was
independent of him. It’s wise to tread lightly in this sort of interpretation, but it seems clear that he believed his work
to be something given, something revealed, which contained a kind of truth beyond measure. As a result, his details
have the weight of reality, linguistic and otherwise, and because of this his great sweep of story feels real as well;
you might say that his imaginary castles are built with a certain amount of genuine stone. Other writers’ fantasy
worlds are made up. Tolkien’s is inherited.

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1. When The Lord of the Rings was voted the greatest book of the 20th century,
a. many Americans were annoyed
b. some people didn’t believe it
c. some people found the fact shocking
d. American academics disagreed
2. It is implied in the second paragraph that the Lord of the Rings
a. is more popular in the States than in the UK
b. is taught in many schools throughout the world
c. is mainly appreciated by academics and journalists
d. is mostly read by school children
3. What do we learn about Gone With the Wind?
a. It was once more popular than The Lord of the Rings
b. It is seen as more challenging than The Lord of the Rings
 c. It was voted one place behind The Lord of the Rings
d. It is more touching than The Lord of the Rings
4. What was Tolkien’s reaction to criticism of The Lord of the Rings?
a. He felt it was unjustified
b. He wasn’t bothered by it
c. He couldn’t understand it
d. He partly agreed with it
5. According to Shippey, Tolkien believed that the world he described
a. was full of unresolved contradictions
b. was completely accurate, historically
c. was imaginative but not pure fantasy
d. was as incredible as his sources
6. Making up languages for The Lord of the Rings
a. helped Tolkien to take the story forward
b. was more interesting to Tolkien than writing the story
c. was sometimes rather frustrating for Tolkien
d. resulted in lengthy interruptions to Tolkien’s writing
7. According to the writer of the article, the details in Tolkien’s work
a. are sometimes rather difficult to follow
b. make the story seem more realistic
c. include some modern elements d. can be interpreted in many different ways

PASSAGE 05

Successful Transitions – One Man’s Story

‘My name is Carl. I was a cop for twenty years. When I was forty my daughter left home and then two years
later my son moved out. Then I got to see that I didn’t have much of a relationship with my wife because I had
spent all the years of my marriage working and not really participating in family life. With the kids gone we didn’t
have much to say to each other. After a couple more years, my wife decided to leave and all I had was my job. The
next year, at 46, I had my twenty years in and had to retire. I got to know what lonely meant very quickly. I still
don’t have much contact with my son, but my daughter and her kids keep me going … but somewhere along the line
I figure I’ve missed something, and I’d sure like to find out what it is. I’d like to know that my life is worth living.’
My friend, Carl, was caught in a story of uselessness. When he no longer had the one thing that he had learned
to identify himself with, he lost his place in the story – he lost his self-identity. He decided that if he was going to
survive he would have to change his story. It really wasn’t a difficult thing for him to do. Car was so miserable that
literally and life would have been better than his. As it turned out, like so many of us, what Carl needed was simply
to be heard. As he listened to himself tell his story he began to see things that he had not seen before, things that
he could change. So, that’s what he did. He changed his perspective, and in so doing, changed his life.
Carl began to look at what he had accomplished in his career rather than the negatives that had so depressed
him. He began referring to himself as an ex-police officer rather than an ex-cop. He joined a health club and became
intent upon regaining a healthy body and then became a volunteer trainer at the club specializing in helping senior
citizens plan exercise programmes. He went back to college and earned a certificate in nutrition. Within three years
he had changed his story, his life, his reality.
When I last spoke to Carl he had met a delightful and creative woman, was working hard at reestablishing
contact with his son and couldn’t get enough of his grandchildren with whom he had created a powerful bond. His
life, he told me, was sweet. It was, he confided, very worth living.
What Carl made me realise was that, firstly, I was not happy in my chosen vocation, and secondly, that there’s
a little bit of Carl in every one of us, whether we are a police officer, salesman, or therapist. We can all change and
grow in a specific direction, become better, different, whoever we want to become if we are willing to change our
story. So, Carl, wherever you are, thanks for helping me make my life worth living.¶
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Editor’s Note: This is the third tin the ‘Transitions’ series dealing with the lives of everyday people – a series of short
stories relevant to almost all of us in one way or another. They come from people whose stories touch us and give us
important insights into our growth and happiness.

1. Carl’s marriage failed because

a. he and his wife didn’t speak b. he and his children fell out
c. his job kept him away from home d. his wife didn’t like his job
2. Carl could only define himself in relation to his
a. marriage b. son c. occupation d. daughter
3. Carl is like the large majority of people in that
a. he was very unhappy
b. his children left the family home
c. he needed to voice his problems
d. it was easy for him to change his life
4. Carl joined the gym as a way to
a. meet people
b. change his career
c. get in shape
d. help the elderly
5. From the article, we realise that the writer
a. later changed his occupation b. has a stronger appreciation for his profession c. stays in
contact with Carl d. has remained unchanged in his attitude
6. For what purposes did the author write the text?
a. to make himself and others happy b. to show gratitude and offer hope
c. to instruct and give thanks d. to advise and warn
7. The magazine where this article appeared is aimed at
a. those who have retired b. discontented professionals
c. people from all walks of life d. those having family difficulties

PASSAGE 06

Generations Apart?
Psychotherapist Gael Lindenfield examines the role of grandparents today.
No one warned me that in my early 40s, I would start cooing longingly into prams. I was totally unprepared to
meet this new aspect of myself. My own nest had just emptied and I was eagerly filling the ‘vacuum’ with
innumerable career and globe-trotting adventures. Admittedly the master vision for the rest of my life did include a
few happy granny and grandpa scenes, but they were more distant and more a family joke than a serious prediction.
So this strange primitive urge to extend my family into another generation was both perplexing and even a little
irritating.
When the right time came, I had, of course, every intention of becoming a conscientious, involved grandparent.
But that was more about doing the right thing for the children than fulfilling a deep instinctive need of my own. As a
psychotherapist, I am hyper-aware of how life-transforming a good relationship with a grandparent can be. It offers
so much more than treats, extra quality time and cheap nannying. Good grandparents help build psychological
security by making their grandchildren feel part of a much wider, diverse and stable supportive family network. They
also give them a sense of their place in history and evolution and give their life a meaningful sense of perspective.
Even when we reach adulthood, our psychological health can be affected by the relationship that we may or
may not have had with our grandparents. I frequently work with people who have (to put it mildly!) a less than
perfect relationship with their own parents. Many times I have been able to help people heal emotionally by simply
reawakening a cherished memory of a much happier and more unconditionally loving relationship with a
grandparent.
Alan was, in his own words, ‘a hopeless case of workaholism’. He still felt driven by trying to please his
ambitious, perfectionist father. But, fortunately, I discovered that he had also received a much more unconditional
kind of love from his calmer, happier and affectionate grandfather. Putting a photo of his grandad on his desk helped
Alan keep his promise to himself to maintain better balance in his life.
Similarly, another client, Angela, had very low self-esteem. We found that by just recalling her grandmother’s
look of pure joy when she used to greet her after school each day, Angela could give herself a powerful boost of
confidence whenever she needed it.
Until I became a grandparent myself, however, I never appreciated how important Alan and Angela must have
beenbene for the happiness and welfare of their grandparents.
Nowadays, the chances of children and grandparents having such intimate, mutually satisfying relationships are
fast diminishing. Recent research revealed that in Britain, one out of twenty grandparents is likely to have had no
contact whatsoever with at least one of their grandchildren during the past five years. There are many reasons for
this
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new distancing of generations. Sometimes, it’s mere geography that keeps them apart. I recently met a woman who
proudly showed me a picture of her family in Australia. Unfortunately, she told me, she hadn’t ever visited them, and
hadn’t even seen her five-year-old granddaughter. Her son had brought over his seven-year-old son six years ago,
but he hadn’t had the time or money to visit since. She explained that she herself had a heart condition, which would
make a long flight too risky.
The positive aspect of this story was that, however sad this situation was for both parties, there appeared to be
no bitterness or resentment. But many grandparents feelfee quite differently. They’re being forced apart from their
grandchildren by less acceptable factors of modern society. Perhaps the pressurePerhaps pressure of time maintains
the distance. After all, nowadays, even if close extended families live within easy visiting distance, they may still not
see much of each other. Parents often spend so much of their precious weekends cleaning, shopping and decorating
that they hardly have time to get to know their children. Equally, the children themselves may have such a heavy
weekend of programmed activity that their time is also stretched to its limits. A visit to or from grandparents feels
like a luxury that no one can afford.
Another increasingly common reason for estrangement is the break-up of family through divorce or separation.
Many grandparents who consequently lose contact with their grandchildren go through a painful bereavement
process, which can even lead to emotional and physical illness. This is because they never give up hope. They will
not accept the finality of separation or loss. It seems that the grandparenting instinct and bond is so strong that it is
rarely killed by even the most bitter family squabbles and separations.
1. When she was about forty, the writer
a. became a grandparent b. was planning to travel
c. was annoyed by her family d. regretted not having grandchildren
2. The writer thinks that grandparents are particularly important because
a. they ensure children get better treatment b. they teach children about the past
c. they provide children with financial support d. they give children a sense of belonging
3. According to the writer, Alan and Angela benefited from
a. understanding the reasons for their parents’ behavior
b. realizing how important they were to their grandparents
c. remembering their grandparents’ attitude to them
d. finding out why they were lacking in confidence
4. How did the woman whose grandchildren were in Australia feel?
a. She knew that visiting would be difficult for both sides of the family
b. She blamed her son for not making enough effort to see her
c. She was happy that her family had been so successful
d. She preferred not to see them regularly.
5. When grandparents live near to their families,
a. seeing each other is usually much easier
b. parents try to keep the grandparents at a distance
c. lack of time may prevent regular contact
d. grandchildren resent repeated visits from grandparents
6. Why does losing contact with grandchildren affect grandparents so deeply?
a. They feel their love for their grandchildren is being destroyed.
b. They wish they had done more to prevent the separation.
c. They know that their grandchildren will suffer from the loss
d. They continue to hope that contact will be re-established.
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