Directions: In this section there are reading passages followed by multiple-choice questions. Read the passages and then mark your answers on your answer sheet.
Passage A
Silence: A Story of Courage and Healing
Some say that silence is a great healer. If you’ d said that to me two years ago, I would have agreed. “Silence, ” I would have argued, “is anything but healing. There is nothing therapeutic about keeping your feelings inside, never talking about what’ s going on in your life. ” I now believe that silence is the reward you get from great healing in addition to being the healer itself. But 1 didn’t know that then.
I had never understood the value of silence. I didn’ t have to. My family was loud and happy. And why not? Nothing serious ever went wrong--not that we knew about. Sure, my siblings and I always fought noisily until our mom yelled at us to stop. Then we’ d shout and complain about injustice, but always, eventually, hug and make-up. Within the parameters of my innocent world, I knew silence as a lack of something: a lack of noise, a lack of discussion, a lack of feeling, a lack of love. Maybe I was even a little afraid of the emptiness it created--the aural darkness where forgiveness never happened; I thought I knew . . . I was very wrong.
Jaime entered my life without much fanfare about two years ago. I’ll never forget the day I met him. My university required a community service stint to graduate, and I wanted to get it out of the way. I’d heard that the local YMCA was a good resource, and I liked working with little kids. I thought maybe they’d let me teach swimming. So on a cool October day in the fall of my sophomore year, I made my way to the YMCA looking for easy credits.
I didn’ t have a car at school until my junior year of college, so if I needed to go anywhere, I would generally catch a ride with a friend or walk. On that particular day, no friend was available and the ten-mile walk was far beyond my dedication to public service. Consequently, I was at the mercy of public transportation. Thankfully, I’d heard the local bus system was pretty reliable. With the help of the CITA bus line map, I climbed onto Bus Route 3, paid my fifty cents, and scanned for a seat. Buses often have their own unique demographic: each crowd is unlike any other. On this bus, most everyone was either asleep or totally oblivious. Except for one kid. He wasn’t all that big-maybe thirteen years old-and he seated by himself, farther apart from the other riders than seemed possible in such a crowed space. Unlike the others, his eyes were alert. And they were glued on me.
Normally, I ignore people with such awkward habits. But for some reason, I couldn’ t stop starting back. Older still, instead of avoiding him, I found myself passing an empty seat to sit on the bench beside him. Once I did, he turned to look out the window. That’ s when the strangeness of it all hit me, and I started to feel a little awkward. I wanted to get back control of the situation. Trying to be subtle, I looked him over. I noticed some scarring on his hands, and a small gash on his cheek. Suddenly, He turned and looked me in the eye. Expecting him to say something, I just waited, watching. He said nothing. After about fifteen seconds, I couldn’ t take the silence anymore.
“Hi, ” I said, trying not to appear as nervous as I felt. No response. He just kept staring. “I’ m Katie. ” I added a smile. Again, I received no response. I gave it one more try.
“I’ ve never used the bus system before. It seems pretty reliable. Do you use it a lot?” Silence. My cheery voice sounded out of place. Other people were starting to stare at me. This time I gave UP and tamed my head toward the front of the bus, trying to ignore the thirteen-year-old staring me down. . . again, I opened my cell phone to check the time and saw that only two minutes had passed. This was going to be the longest bus ride ever. Then a thin voice cut through the silence. “I’m Jaime. ”
My heart skipped a beat. Could it be that my silence was the catalyst for this small victory? By allowing Jaime the room that silence allows to make his own decision about talking to me, I had made a connection. Suddenly, I knew that my long heed opinion of silence was forever changed.