美國留學申請文書的範文介紹

美國留學的人有很多，而申請是重點，申請文書一定要書寫好。快來看看小編為你準備的美國留學申請文書的範文，歡迎大家閱讀!

I wake up every morning to its rich scent. My parents cannot start the day with out it. I often wait in line and pay $3.85 to buy it. The senior lodge at my school is littered with empty Starbucks cups containing only the remnants of skim lattes, , and mocha frapuccinos. Coffee is a staple of American life that many take for granted, but few take the time to think about how they get it.

In the rural village of Cadillo in the Dominican Republic, the people’s livelihood depends on coffee. Rows of green coffee plants line steep hills and scatter the countryside. The people there pick and sell the coffee beans but receive little profit for their hard work.

During the week I spent in Cadillo playing , I witnessed the poverty these coffee farmers endure. Their homes are small and dark, furnished with only a few wooden chairs, a table and a few beds. There is no lawyers and electricity in Cadillo and I especially remember the emptiness of the village at night, when I could only vaguely see the faces I illuminated with my flashlight. I can still see the shiny metal bowl in which they used to bathe, and Jose, a neighbor who was missing several teeth because like most people in Cadillo, he lacks a toothbrush and could not afford a .

These images still burn in my mind, but it was the people of Cadillo more than anything who opened my eyes to the importance of social justice. Before I met them it was just a concept I heard about a few times a year at church when a missionary would come to speak about the poor people in Africa or South America and explain why it was our duty to help them. These people were far removed. A small fraction of my weekly allowance, once a year, and I could remove them from my mind. After living for a week with a family in Cadillo, however, I understood for the first time that it was real people leading these lives.

The family I stayed with there took me in as part of their family and gave me a taste of their life. I remember my Dominican father, Barilla’s face as he played guitar and how he laughed kindly when I struggled to play the chords he had taught me. I could feel the warmth and sincerity of my Dominican mother, Marsela, when she sat and talked with me about my home and family after a long day of work. And I will always remember how much fun I had playing catch or blowing bubbles with their two children, Jendi and Andisco.

I will not forget the images I saw or the people I encountered. They made me realize that my work does not end with the school I helped build, the holes I helped dig, or the roads I helped widen. They showed me that there are real, wonderful people being treated unjustly and that I cannot sit back and let that happen. I cannot be silent when I know that people are getting rich off the coffee Barilla receives so little for. It is my responsibility to be active, to teach what I have learned, to fight injustices in my community and the world.

I am not sure if I will ever visit Cadillo again but I do know that I can continue what I started there. I can tell people what I saw and spread awareness about injustice in the world. I can volunteer in my own community to help make changes at home and fundraise to aid third world countries. And tomorrow, after I wake up to the smell of fresh coffee, I can make a difference.

譯文參考：

我每天早晨在它的濃郁的香氣中醒來;沒有它，我父母就沒辦法開始新一天的工作生活;我常常排著隊，然後付上3.85美元買到它。我學校的高階旅館裡堆滿了空的星巴克杯子，杯子裡還有拿鐵、摩卡的殘留物。咖啡是美國人生活的一部分，許多人理所當然的享受著，很少有人花時間想過咖啡是怎麼來的。

在多明尼加共和國有一個農村叫Cadillo，當地居民賴以生計的只有咖啡。一排排綠色的咖啡樹長在陡峭的山坡上、圍著村子分散開來。人們採摘咖啡豆，然後賣出，這樣辛苦的勞作只換來微薄的收入。

我在Cadillo遊玩過一個星期，我親眼目睹了這些種植咖啡的農民們所忍受的貧困。他們的房子小、而且陰暗，裡面的傢俱只有幾張木頭做的椅子、一張桌子及幾張床。這裡沒有律師，沒有電。我尤其記得Cadillo村裡晚上的空寂，那些晚上，我只能通過我的手電筒微弱的光看到模糊的臉。我還記得他們洗漱用的磨得發亮的金屬盆。Jose是我在村裡住的那一家的鄰居，他像Cadillo村許多人一樣缺了幾顆牙齒，他沒有牙刷，因為買不起。

這些畫面仍然在我的腦海裡翻滾，但正是Cadillo村裡的人比其他所有更讓我見識到社會公平的重要性。在我遇到他們之前，“”社會公平”只是一個概念，每年在教堂裡會聽到幾次，牧師會說非洲及南美的窮苦難民以及我們為什麼有義務幫助他們。這些人離我這麼遙遠，儘管以前我會從每個星期的費用省下一點，每年把省下來的錢捐一次出去。然而，在我同Cadillo的人們生活了一個星期後，我才第一次理解到真有人是這樣生活著。

我在Cadillo生活的那家人待我如親人，讓我體驗了一番他們的生活是什麼樣子。我記得我的多明尼加爸爸Barilla。他彈吉他時的模樣，他教我學樂器以及看我費勁拉弦時怎麼溫和地笑我。我能感受到我多明尼加媽媽Marsela的`溫暖和真誠，在她一天的長時間勞作之後，她坐下來和我嘮家常，談我的家鄉、我的家人。我也將永遠記得我和他們的兩個孩子Jendi、Andisco追逐打鬧吹泡泡的樂趣。

我永遠不會忘記這些畫面，不會忘記我遇到的人。是他們讓我意識到我的責任不僅僅是幫助建設學校、挖洞種樹和修寬道路。他們讓我真實的看到這樣一群善良的人受到不平等的對待，而我不能坐視不理。看到有人從咖啡獲取暴利而我的多明尼加爸爸卻得到很少，我無法沉默。我要積極主動、去教給別人我所學到的，去為我生活在的社群以及世界出現的不平等鬥爭，這是我的職責。

我不確定我以後是否還會去Cadillo，我能確定的是我會將從那裡得到的繼續下去。我會把我看到的告訴他人，讓大家意識到這世界存在的不平等事實。我會在我生活的周邊社群志願服務，改變家鄉，會為第三世界募捐。而當我明天聞著咖啡的香氣中醒來，我知道我能為世界變美好做一點貢獻。

Ten years from now Tim Dickson won't even remember my name. The unknowing recipient of my undying love for two years, Tim had been everything a girl could ever ask for: smart, handsome, witty, and athletic, with a voice that could make angels weep. Everyone knew his name. To a shy little country mouse, nearly invisible in our student body, he was the epitome of manliness. I sat in my corner of room C-119 and gazed adoringly at his profile as he amazed the class of Modern World History with his dashing style. Carefully planning the routes to my classes to coincide with his, I was his silent shadow.

After fourteen months, contrary to my hopes, Tim still was not aware of my existence. Determined to bring myself to his attention, I staged my entrance to his heart with all the flair I could muster. I would breach his defenses at the next history oral presentation in the guise of the dashing Cardinal Richelieu.

It was now or never! Striding into the classroom, my head raised, eyes flashing, I stood proudly, the colors of my eighteenth-century costume catching the light and giving me courage. My opening line shook with tight emotion. "Gentlemen, I am disgusted!" My voice alternately lashed out in rage and purred in soft persuasion. I gloried in my elocution. Each word was power. My voice rose to a brilliant conclusion, and I stood with my arms outstretched and my head bowed in submission.

Dead silence.

My left knee trembled uncontrollably. Why did no one speak? My hands began to shake so I pulled them behind me-like one condemned. My eyes gauged the distance to the door.

Then someone began to clap. More joined in. Tim looked into my eyes and smiled. He smiled!

Joy, oh joy. My soul overflowed with rapture. I had done it! He noticed me! All the shame, all the worry, and all the castigation melted away in that moment. I knew how to make him love me. I simply had to speak better, sing better, act better, and write better than anyone else. Determined, I joined competitions, played in concerts, and wrote essays that were read in class. When Tim transferred to the A.P. class, so did I. I threw myself into class discussions, attempting to dazzle him with my intelligence and intrepidity. Making friends with his friends, I dogged his steps.

The next summer Tim moved away. I never heard from him again. But the transformation in me had taken place. Now I was involved for the simple pleasure of being involved. Challenging people surrounded me. Biff taught me to love. Dave taught me to laugh. Ramez taught me to break my limits. Alit gave me confidence. Whenever I was in danger of reverting to a wallflower, one of my new friends would drag me into another club or activity.

Dear Graduate Admission Committee,

Enclosed is the application supporting materials of XXXX, which is submitted to be considered for admission of Doctoral program in XXXX of XXXX Reserve University. The packet includes supporting materials listed below:

? Cover letter

? Official Undergraduate Transcript

? Two-page Curriculum Vitae

? Two-page Statement of Objectives

? Rank Certification

? Honor Certification

? Three Letters of Reference from Prof. XXX, Prof. XXX and XXX, respectively.

? Title pages of my two main publications

For your convenience, I also enclosed the photocopy of my GRE and TOEFL score reports. And the official score has already been requested to report directly to your university by ETS. Please feel free to contact me if you have any queries regarding my application.

Thank you for your kind consideration.

Sincerely Yours,

XXXX