Read the text and engage in a conversation with my father Grace Paley. My father is eighty-six years old and confined to his

Read the text and engage in a conversation with my father Grace Paley. My father is eighty-six years old and confined to his bed. His heart, that aging engine, no longer functions effectively in certain ways. However, it still fills his mind with intellectual light. Unfortunately, it no longer allows his legs to support the weight of his body as he moves around the house. Despite my metaphorical descriptions, he insists that this muscle weakness is not due to his aging heart but rather a deficiency of potassium. Seated on one cushion and supported by three others, he imparts some last-minute advice and makes a request.

He expresses, «I would like to write a simple story one last time,» he says, «the kind that de Maupassant or Chekhov used to write, the kind you used to create. Portray ordinary people and then record what unfolds in their lives.»

I respond, «Certainly, why not? That’s feasible.» I want to please him, although I don’t recall writing in that manner. I’m willing to attempt such a story if he means the type that starts with, «There was a woman…» followed by a plot, an unyielding line connecting two points which I have always disdained. Not for literary reasons, but because it extinguishes all hope. Everyone, whether real or invented, deserves an open and unpredictable destiny in life.

Finally, I thought of a narrative that had been unfolding for a few years right across the street. I wrote it down and then read it aloud. «Dad,» I inquired, «is this what you had in mind?»

Once upon a time, there was a woman who had a son. They lived comfortably in a small apartment in Manhattan. This boy, at the age of approximately fifteen, became a drug addict, which was not uncommon in our neighborhood.

To maintain her close relationship with him, she too became a drug addict, citing it as an aspect of the youth culture with which she felt deeply connected. After some time, for various reasons, the boy abandoned it all and left the city, leaving his mother in a state of despair. She felt utterly hopeless and alone, and we all visited her.

Reading Comprehension Test

1. My father is an active 68-year-old man.
2. He desires his daughter to craft a complex epic novel.
3. He prefers uncomplicated tales featuring recognizable individuals.
4. I will compose a straightforward narrative for him.
5. The woman’s son was ten years old.
6. Her son left her with wealth and proper care.

Circle the Correct Letter

My father spends his time in…
a) bed; b) church; c) the cafes; d) pain and suffering

His heart is feeble but has not diminished the flow of blood…
a) to his legs; b) to his strong arms and shoulders; c) to his head; d) to his liver

He believes I write simple stories akin to…
a) Shultz and Dilbert; b) Bulgakov and Shevchenko; c) Chekhov or de Maupassant; d) Chekhov and Marquis de Sade

I was… to compose a simple story for my father.
a) unwilling; b) eager; c) saddened; d) unable

The woman and her son resided in…
a) Sumy; b) Poland; c) Manhattan; d) Washington D.C.

The boy became a junkie, which was…
a) common; b) uncommon; c) looked down upon; d) held in high esteem

Fill in the Blanks

Create 5 questions of different types.

Once upon a time, there was a woman and she had a son. They resided in a small apartment in Manhattan. This boy, at about fifteen, became a junkie, which was not common in our neighborhood.

In order to maintain her close relationship with him, she also became a junkie. She claimed it was part of the youth culture, with which she felt quite comfortable. After a while, for a variety of reasons, the boy abandoned it all and left the city, leaving his mother in a state of despair and loneliness. We all visited her.

1. Kindly
2. Atypical
3. Youth
4. Revulsion
5. Addict
6. Sustain