¿Í¿ì~~Ä¿ÇÇ Á¾·ù°¡ Âü ´Ù¾çÇÏÁÒ~
¸¾¿¡ µå´Â°É·Î °í¸£¼Å¿ä~~
¤¾¤¾ ¹º°¡ ´Þ´ÞÇÑ°É ¸¶½Ã°í ½ÍÀº³¯Àä
Àú ȳµíÇÑ ¾Þ±×¸®¸¦ º¸´Ï ÇÇ½Ä ¿ôÀ½ÀÌ ³ª´Â°ÍÀÌ
¸¾ÀÌ ÇÑ°á °¡º¿öÁý´Ï´Ù¿ä~
´Ùµé Àá ¸øÁÖ¹«½Å°Ç ¾Æ´Ï½ÃÁÒ~
´Ê°Ô±îÁö µé¾î¿À¼Å¼ ±Û ÀÐ°í ¾²½ÅºÐµéµµ ¸¹À¸½Ã°í
ÀÏ´Ü ±Û ¿Ã·ÁÁֽŠºÐµé Àǰ߸¸ ¸ðÀ¸¸é¿ä
A to z / Danger zone ÀÌ ¿ì¼¼ÇÕ´Ï´Ù
´ºº£¸®´Â ¿øÇϽóª ¾Æ¹«·¡µµ Á¶±ÝÀº ºÎ´ã½º·¯¿öÇϽôµíÇϱ¸¿ä
¸ÕÀú Á¦ »ý°¢À» ¸»¾¸µå¸®ÀÚ¸é¿ä
²À ÇÑ°¡Áö ±³Àç·Î ÅëÀÏ ÇÏÀÚ´Â ºÎºÐÀ» Á¶±Ý¸¸ À¯º¸ÇÏ¸é ¾ÈµÉ±î? ÀÔ´Ï´Ù
(¸ðµÎµé µüÈ÷ ÀÌ°Å´Ù Á¤ÇÏÁö ¸øÇϽô°͵µ °°°í...)
¾ÆÀ̵éÀÌ ¾î¶² ±³ÀçµéÀÌ È帷Π¿Ã¶ó¿ÍÀÖ´ÂÁö ´Ù ¾Ë°í ÀÖ°í
ÀÚ½ÅÀÌ ¿øÇÏ´Â ±³Àç°¡ Àִµ¥
Á¤ÇØÁø ±³Àç·Î ÇؾßÇÑ´Ù¸é Á¶±ÝÀº ºÎ´ã½º·¯¿ï¼öµµ ÀÖ´Ù°í »ý°¢ÀÌ µé¾î¿ä
¹°·Ð Àß Çس»¸®¶ó ¹Ï½À´Ï´Ù
´Ù¸¸ ÇбâÁß¿¡´Â º»ÀÎÀÌ ¿øÇÏ´Â ±³Àç·Î ÆíÈ÷ °¡ÀÚ´Â ºÐµéÀÇ
¸»¾¸ÀÌ Á¶±ÝÀº Àϸ®°¡ ÀִµíÇؼ¿ä
±³Àç°¡ µÎ°¡Áö°¡ ´ë¼¼ÀεíÇÏ´Ï
Áö³¹øó·³ µÑÁß Çϳª¸¦ ¼±ÅÃÇÏ¸é ¾î¶³±î¿ä?
¹Ú»ç´Ô Å×¼Ö¼ö¾÷À» ¹ÞÀ»¶§ µéÀº ¾²±âºÎºÐÀ» ´Ù½Ã ÀоîºÃ´Âµ¥¿ä
¾²±âÀÇ °úÁ¤¿¡¼ ¸¶Áö¸·Àº °á±¹ ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ »ý°¢À» Ç¥ÇöÇϴ°Ŵõ¶ó±¸¿ä
±× °úÁ¤¿¡ summary °¡ ¸¹ÀÌ µµ¿òÀÌ µÇ°í
¶Ç ÇÑ°¡Áö ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î µ¶ÈÄ°¨»ó¹® ¾²±â°¡ ÀÖ´õ±º¿ä
µÎ Á¾·ùÁß Çϳª¸¦ Á¤Çؼ summary¿Í ÇÑ±Ç ³¡³ÈÄ °£·«È÷ ´À³¦À» Àû´øÁö
ÀüüÀûÀ¸·Î µ¶ÈÄ°¨»ó¹®À» ¾²´Â°Ç ¾î¶³±î¿ä?
ÇбâÁß¿¡¸¸ ±×·¸°Ô ÇÏ°í
¹æÇж§ 2-3±Ç Á¤µµÀÇ ´ºº£¸®¸¦ Á¤Çؼ ÇÔ²² Àаí ÀÌ¾ß±æ ³ª´©´Â°Íµµ
±¦ÂúÁö ¾ÊÀ»±î.....ÇÏ´Â »ý°¢À» ÇغýÀ´Ï´Ù
±×·¸°Ô ÇÏ°í³ª¸é 2ÇбâºÎÅÍ´Â °øÅë±³Àç °í¸£±â°¡
Á» ¼ö¿ùÇØÁöÁö ¾ÊÀ»±î¿ä?
¸î°³¿ù´õ ¾ÆÀ̵éÀÌ ¾²±â¿¡ Àͼ÷ÇØÁö´Â ½Ã°£À» °®±â¸¦
°ÇÀÇÇغ¾´Ï´Ù^ ^
ÀÇ°ß ÃëÇÕÇؼ °áÁ¤ÇؾßÇÏ´Â ½ÃÁ¡¿¡
¿ä·¸°Ô ±Û ¿Ã·Á¼ ³Ê¹« Á˼ÛÇÑ ¸¾À̱¸¿ä
´ÙÀ½ ÁøÇàÀ» ½ÃÀÛÇؾßÇϴµ¥ Áغñ°úÁ¤À» ³Ê¹« ±æ°Ô ²ô´Â°Í °°¾Æ
¾ÆÀ̵鿡°Ôµµ ¹Ì¾ÈÇϳ׿ä
ÀÚ ±×·³ ÀÇ°ß ´Ù½Ã ¹°À»²²¿ä
1. °øÅë±³ÀçÇÏÀÚ
2.µÑÁß Çϳª ¼±ÅÃÇؼ ÇÑ´Ù
3. ³» ¾ÆÀÌ »óȲ¿¡ µû¶ó ±³Àç ¼±ÅÃÇؼ ÇÑ´Ù
(Á¦°¡ Á» ¸·¹«°¡³»ÁÒ ^ ^;;;)
ÁøÇà¹æ¹ý
1.summary¸¸ÇÑ´Ù
2. summary & ¹®Á¦ÃâÁ¦(¾ÆÀ̵éÀÌ)
3. summary & µ¶ÈÄÈ°µ¿(µÎ°³¸¦ Çϳª·Î Çصµ¹«¹æ)
½Ã°£ÀÌ Á»´õ °É¸±µíÇÏ´Ï ´ÙÀ½ÁÖ±îÁö Á¦°¡ ´ë¹® ¿²²¿ä~
°áÁ¤³ª¸é olivewoo´Ô ¹ÙÅæ ¹Þ¾ÆÁֽñ¸¿ä
¶ÇÇϳª ²À ´ÙÁüÀÇ ¸»¾¸µå¸®ÀÚ¸é
ss¹Ý Ä£±¸µé ¸¾´Ôµé ²À °°ÀÌ ÇÔ²² °¡¿ä~
´Ùµé °°Àº ¸¾À̶ó »ý°¢ÇÕ´Ï´Ù~
ps: ±ÛÀÌ Á» µÎ¼°¡ ¾ø´õ¶óµµ ¾çÇعٶø´Ï´Ù~~~~
ÇÑ°¡Áö »©¸Ô¾ú³×¿ä
olivewoo´ÔÀÌ ´Ùµé ¾ÆÀÌµé ½Ã°£ ¾îÂî °ü¸®ÇϽôÂÁö ±Ã±ÝÇϽõ¥¿ä
Àúµµ ±Ã±ÝÇØ¿ä~~
¿©±â 500 ¿øÀÌ¿ä~~
À̹øÁÖ ¾ÆÀ̵éÀÌ ÇÑ °úÁ¦µµ ¿Ã·ÁÁֽðí
½Ã°£°ü¸® ¾îÂîÇϽôÂÁöµµ ³ëÇÏ¿ìµµ »ìÂ¥±â °ø°³Çϱâ~~~
Áß1 ±Ôºó
¸ÕÀú ³Ê¹« ´Ê°Ô ´ñ±Û½á¼ Á˼ÛÇÏ°í¿ä..
´ë¼¼°¡ 3¹øÀ¸·Î ±â¿ï¾îÁö°í ÀÖ´Â µíÇϳ׿ä Àúµµ 3¹øÀÌ¿ä.
3¹ø¿¡ 3¹øÀ¸·Î ÇÏ°í ±â°£À» 3°³¿ùÁ¤µµ·Î ¾Æ´Ô 6°³¿ù ¾Æ´Ô 4°³¿ù? ¾Æ´Ô 5°³¿ù? ¤¾¤¾ ÀÌ·¸°Ô
Á¤Çؼ ±× ±â°£¿¡ ¹«¾óÇÏµç ¸¶¹«¸®¸¦ Çϴ°ɷΠÇÏ´Â°Ç ¾î¶³Áö¿ä.
¾Øµå·ùŬ·¹¸àÃ÷ ÁøÂ¥ ¸¶Áö¸· ±Û¾²±â ¿Ã¸³´Ï´Ù.
¾ö¸¶ »ý°¢¿¡´Â °°Àº ÀÛ°¡Ã¥À» 11±ÇÀ̳ª ÀÐ°í µ¶ÈÄÈ°µ¿À» ÇßÀ¸¸é ¹º°¡ ¾Øµå·ùŬ·¹¸àÃ÷ ÀÛÇ°¿¡ ´ëÇØ
º»ÀÎÀÇ ¹«½Å »ý°¢ÀÌ ÀÖÀ»ÁÙ ¾Ë¾Ò´Âµ¥
±×³É ¾Øµå·ùŬ·¹¸àÃ÷ ºÏŬ·´ ¸ðÁý Æ÷½ºÅÍ °°³×¿ä.
±×¸®°í ±×°£¿¡ °øÅë°úÁ¦µµ ¾ÈÇÏ°í ±Ûµµ ³Ê¹« ¾È¿Ã¸°°Å °°¾Æ¼ À̹øÁÖ¿¡ ¾´ THE MAGIC POT µµ ¿Ã·Áº¾´Ï´Ù.
±â¿ï¾îÁø ±Û¾¾±îÁö´Â ÁÖ¾îÁø ±Û·Î ¿ì¸®°¡ ¾Ë°í ÀÖ´Â ¸ÅÁ÷ÆÌ ½ÃÀۺκÐÀÌ°í¿ä ±× ÀÌÈÄ¿¡ À̾߱â´Â »ó»óÇÏ¿© ¾²±âÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
SS¹Ý Ä£±¸µéµµ °øÅë°úÁ¦ ÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ» º¸´Ï »ó»óÇÏ¿©¾²±â´Â ¸ðµç Ä£±¸µéÀÌ ÁÁ¾ÆÇÏ´Â °Í °°½À´Ï´Ù.
¾ðÁ¦ Çѹø µ¹¾Æ°¡¸ç µÞÀ̾߱â Áö¾îº¸´Â °Íµµ Àç¹ÌÀÖÀ»°Í °°½À´Ï´Ù. ´Ù¼¸¹®À徿Á¤µµ Çؼ °øµ¿À¸·Î À̾߱âÇѹø Áö¾îº¸´Â°Ç ¾î¶³Áö¿ä?
¼ÕÀ¸·Î ¾²±â ½È¾îÇؼ ÄÄÅÍ¿¡ ÀúÀåÇØ ³õÀº °Í ¿Ã¸³´Ï´Ù.
The Magic Pot
by Catherine
In a small wooden house in the dark forest lived a poor little girl and her sick mother. They never had any food and were always hungry. One day when the little girl was walking alone in the dark forest she met a mysterious, old woman.
"What's wrong, little girl? Why are you crying?" asked the old woman. "We have no food in our house,"sobbed the hungry little girl. The old woman smiled wickedly. "Here," she said, still smiling. "Take this magic pot. When you are hungry, just say 'cook, little pot, cook' and it will cook sweet, delicious porridge. When you want it to stop cooking, simply say 'stop, little pot, stop¡®."
The little girl thanked her and jogged home in delight. "Mother, mother,"cried the little girl. "Look what I had got." The little girl showed her mother the magic pot. ¡°Where did you get it?" asked her mother. "From the old woman," replied the little girl. "Was her hair white and was wearing a black cape that has a picture of two small green leaves?" asked her mother once more. "How did you know?" said the little girl. "It happened when I was young. Even younger than you are, my darling. I lived in another forest. My house was very, very poor. One day, when I was walking though the woods, I met an old woman. She looked exactly like what I had described. She gave me a magic cabinet. She told me that when I say 'money, lots of money', money would keep coming out from the cabinet. And when I say 'stop, money, stop', the money would stop coming out. I was so happy then. Because I hadn't have any money of my own in my whole life. So I made lots of money. Then I realized that forgot how to stop the money from coming out. The forest that I was living was filled with money. Everybody came to fetch some. Prices were falling down-fast. I felt guilty. So I smashed the cabinet away. Then all the money turned into brass. Many people got angry and I got scared. SO I ran away from my house and came here. I don't want that kind of thing again my dear. So let's smash this pot before we use," said her mother.
But the little girl knew that her mother needed food-lots of food-to survive. So in the middle of the night, she crept to towards the big wooden box that her mother put the pot inside. She opened the box and said, "cook little pot, cook." Then the pot started cooking. The little girl took out a bowl from the kitchen cabinet and moved the porridge into it. Then she said,"stop little pot, stop." She climbed up the ladder into the attic and hid the bowl behind the piles of clothes that her father had once worn. The little girl tried to erased her mind thinking about her dead father as she came down the ladder. Instead, she thought that I would never forget how to stop the pot cooking.
The next morning, the little girl gave her mother the magical porridge saying, "Mama, have some porridge. The man from the market gave it to me." Her mother believed her and ate the porridge. Then she got up and went towards the wooden box that contain the magic pot. The little girl held her breath and watched her mother as she took out the hammer, ready to scatter the pot. As she started to smash the pot, the little girl shouted, "wait!" Her mother stopped. The hammer was one inch away from the pot. The little girl breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Mother, I want to know what happen if we scatter the pot.""Okay, if you want, my dear,"said her mother. She said,"cook little pot, cook." The magic pot started to cook. When the pot was almost full, her mother said,"stop magic pot, stop." But the pot didn't stop. It was because she didn't say the right word. But she didn't know. In fact, the little girl, who even thought that she wouldn't forget how to stop the pot from making porridge, didn't know what was wrong. They thought and thought thinking about what was wrong. As they thought, the porridge grew and grew. It spoiled out of the pot and wet the dusty wooden floor of the house. After about five minutes, the mother shook her head, stood up, and smashed the pot into millions of p***es. Immediately the porridge turned into toadstools. The little girl's mother started puking and puking all over the place. The little girl looked around the house. She felt guilty like her mother had before. She looked around the house. There was nothing she could help her poor mother. All that she could see were mess.
The little girl raced out of her house towards the wood. In the dark scary woods, she met the old woman again. This time, the little girl fetched her into her house without saying a word. The little girl make sure the old woman saw her sick, old, puking mother. Then she demanded her to fix her mom. She could tell that the old woman hated sick people. The old woman nodded and raised her left arm. She muttered some words and disappeared.
The little girl looked around in amazement. Her mother was sitting next to her. She didn't look a bit sick. The mushrooms were gone and so did the magic pot. The little girl smiled and looked out of the window into the blue, clear sky muttering, "thank you," Then she looked at her mother straight in the eyes and said," I love you." Her mother smiled and said, "I loved you too.""Oh, mother, I've got a very good story. Want to hear it?" And the little girl started a story to her mother. A story about a little girl and the magic pot.