《幼儿英语演讲稿(汇总四篇)》

幼儿英语演讲稿（精选4篇）

幼儿英语演讲稿 篇1

Mother’s Day is coming.I want to give my mother a surprise.I’ll buy aspecial gift for her.I know,she likes computers and she also likes takingphotos.So,I want to buy a new one。Because our computer is too old to use.But Idon’t have enough money.So, I must buy another one.I’ll go to the shop to buy anew album and write my favorite words on it。Tomorrow I will give it to my mom。Ithink it’s the best gift for her.Becausethis falls my love.

And if I study hard enough,in the future I will make much money.Then I willbuy anything my mother love.Although they are very expensive。Now, it’s importantto study hard and make progress.Probably I can have a good job and take goodcare of me are the best gift she wants to get.Mom ,let me tell you”I think youare the best mom in the word and in my heart。”

幼儿英语演讲稿 篇2

I love my mother.She is tall and thin.She has long and black hair.She isvery beautiful.She is about 30 years old. She is a good teacher.She is strict about her students's studies.Everydayshe left her students' hall, but she also pay attention to their learning.She isvery busy.Even on Saturday and Sunday, she will put own day as preparation.Evenif she is so busy, she still finds time to help me with my studies and playsball games with me. She is hard-working ,kind and patient.I remember one time I went to apicnic.She looks after me all the way.She has two children,one is me,another ismy elder brother.My mother like us very much. I like her very much!I hope my family will happily all the way.

幼儿英语演讲稿 篇3

It's nice to be back at Princeton. I find it difficult to believe that it's been almost 11 years since I departed these halls for Washington. I wrote recently to inquire about the status of my leave from the university, and the letter I got back began, "Regrettably, Princeton receives many more qualified applicants for faculty positions than we can accommodate."

I'll extend my best wishes to the seniors later, but first I want to congratulate the parents and families here. As a parent myself, I know that putting your kid through college these days is no walk in the park. Some years ago I had a colleague who sent three kids through Princeton even though neither he nor his wife attended this university. He and his spouse were very proud of that accomplishment, as they should have been. But my colleague also used to say that, from a financial perspective, the experience was like buying a new Cadillac every year and then driving it off a cliff. I should say that he always added that he would do it all over again in a minute. So, well done, moms, dads, and families.

This is indeed an impressive and appropriate setting for a commencement. I am sure that, from this lectern, any number of distinguished spiritual leaders have ruminated on the lessons of the Ten Commandments. I don't have that kind of confidence, and, anyway, coveting your neighbor's ox or donkey is not the problem it used to be, so I thought I would use my few minutes today to make Ten Suggestions, or maybe just Ten Observations, about the world and your lives after Princeton. Please note, these points have nothing whatsoever to do with interest rates. My qualification for making such suggestions, or observations, besides having kindly been invited to speak today by President Tilghman, is the same as the reason that your obnoxious brother or sister got to go to bed later--I am older than you. All of what follows has been road-tested in real-life situations, but past performance is no guarantee of future results.

幼儿英语演讲稿 篇4

Less than three months ago at platform hearings in Salt LakeCity, I asked the Republican Party to lift the shroud of silence which has been draped over the issue of HIV and AIDS. I have come tonight to bring our silence to an end. I bear a message of challenge, not self-congratulation. I want your attention, not your applause.

I would never have asked to be HIV positive, but I believe that in all things there is a purpose; and I stand before you and before the nation gladly. The reality of AIDS is brutally clear. Two hundred thousand Americans are dead or dying. A million more are infected. Worldwide, fortymillion, sixty million, or a hundred million infections will be counted in the coming few years. But despite science and research, White House meetings, and congressional hearings, despite good intentions and bold initiatives, campaign slogans, and hopeful promises, it is -- despite it all -- the epidemic, which is winning tonight.

In the context of an election year, I ask you, here in this great hall, or listening in the quiet of your home, to recognize that AIDS virus is not a political creature. It does not care whether you are Democrat or Republican; it does not ask whether you are black or white, male or female, gay or straight, young or old.

Tonight, I represent an AIDS community whose members have been reluctantly drafted from every segment of American society. Though I am white and a mother, I am one with a black infant struggling with tubes in a Philadelphia hospital. Though I am female and contracted this disease in marriage and enjoy the warm support of my family, I am one with the lonely gay man sheltering a flickering candle from the cold wind of this family’s rejection.

This is not a distant threat. It is a present danger. The rate of infection is increasing fasted among women and children. Largely unknown a decade ago, AIDS is the third leading killer of young adult Americanstoday. But it won’t be third for long. Because unlike other diseases, this one travels. Adolescents don’t give each other cancer or heart disease because they believe they are in love, but HIV is different; and we have helped it along. We have killed each other with our ignorance, our prejudice, and our silence.

We may take refuge in our stereotypes, but we cannot hide there long, because HIV asks only one thing of those it attacks. Are you human?And this is the right question. Are you human? Because people with HIV have not entered some alien state of being. They are human. They have not earned cruelty, and they do not deserve meanness. They don’t benefit from being isolated or treated as outcasts. Each of them is exactly what God made: aperson; not evil, deserving of our judgment; not victims, longing for our pity; people, ready for support and worthy of compassion.

My call to the nation is a plea for awareness. If you believe you are safe, you are in danger. Because I was not hemophiliac, I was not at risk. Because I was not gay, I was not at risk. Because I did not inject drugs, I was not at risk.

My father has devoted much of his lifetime guarding against another holocaust. He is part of the generation who heard Pastor Nemoellor come out of the Nazi death camps to say: They came after the Jews, and I was not a Jew, so I did not protest. They came after the trade unionists, and I was not a trade unionist, so, I did not protest. Then they came after the Roman Catholics, and I was not a Roman Catholic, so, I did not protest. Then they came after me, and there was no one left to protest.”

The lesson history teaches is this: If you believe you are safe, you are at risk. If you do not see this killer stalking your children,look again. There is no family or community, no race or religion, no place left in America that is safe. Until we genuinely embrace this message, we are a nation at risk.

Someday our children will be grown. My son Max, now four, will take the measure of his mother. My son Zachary, now two, will sort through his memories. I may not be here to hear their judgments, but I know already what I hope they are. I want my children to know that their mother was not a victim. She was a messenger. I do not want them to think, as I once did, that courage is the absence of fear. I want them to know that courage is the strength to act wisely when most we are afraid.

I ask no more of you than I ask of myself or of my children.To the millions of you who are grieving, who are frightened, who have suffered the ravages of AIDS firsthand: Have courage, and you will find support. To the millions who are strong, I issue the plea: Set aside prejudice and politics to make room for compassion and sound policy.

To all within the sound of my voice, I appeal: Learn with me the lessons of history and of grace, so my children will not be afraid to say the word AIDS when I am gone. Then, their children and yours may not need to whisper it at all.

God bless the children, and God bless us all. Good night.