英语手抄报：Black Tulips

　　When I was a child growing up in the Netherlands, I often begged my mother to tell me this story about an experience her family had at the end of World WarⅡ.

点击放大图片

　　During the terrible last winter of the German occupation, food was very scarce in the Netherlands. People were so desperately hungry, they began to eat small animals and many things not normally considered edible(可食用的), including tulip bulbs. People discovered the bulbs could be cooked like potatoes or turnips(芜菁), or even eaten raw.

　　For centuries my mother's family, the Van der Veldes, had owned a highly successful tulip business, which provided jobs for many in our village of Ridderkerk. Their bulbs were popular throughout Europe and abroad, and the family name was known far and wide. But the war shut their business down, and during the winter of hunger, my grandfather, Arnoldus, donated all his tulip bulbs to feed the hungriest villagers.

　　All, that is, except for a few irreplaceable bulbs. For years, Arnoldus had been trying to cultivate a black tulip, something no gardener had ever been able to do. He was now very close. By careful selection, he had created a dark-purple tulip. These few bulbs he guarded vigorously to prevent people from stealing them for food. He did not even give them to his family to eat, because they would make just one meager(贫乏的) meal, and eating them would destroy his chance of restarting his business and restoring his village after the war.

　　One day, underground Radio Orange announced that the war was over. There was great rejoicing, but more hardships were still to come. The German forces that had occupied and terrorized our country for five long years started to withdraw, battalion(军营) by battalion. But as they pulled back, some soldiers deserted and fled toward Germany, sacking and looting as they went. There was much destruction, and the Dutch people still faced grave dangers.

　　My grandfather, Arnoldus, looked at his pale, thin children and realized that the hunger could continue for a longtime as the war left poverty in its wake. He wondered if it might be time to feed his precious bulbs to his children. Certainly it would be better than losing the bulbs to the marauding(抢劫的) bands of fleeing German soldiers. After hours of agonizing, he made his decision. He seized a shovel and went into the garden. There he found my mother, Albertha, then just seven, looking flushed and agitated(焦虑的).

　　"Papa! Papa! I must tell you something," Albertha said. Over her shoulder, Arnoldus saw a band of drunken, looting Germans coming toward them down the street. He whispered to Albertha to run inside the house and frantically began digging for his bulbs. Over and over his shovel came up empty. He was too late. Someone had already stolen them.