The Oil Lamp and the Lighthouse On an island off the coast of a rocky shore stood a great lighthouse. During the day, the white walls of the lighthouse shined under the sunlight, while at night it burned a light for those at sea. Many people visited the lighthouse, and when they did, they commented on its size and strength and admired the beauty that it added to the surroundings. Some told its keeper how its light had saved them during a storm.  All loved the lighthouse except a little oil lamp that lived in the lighthouse. By day it hung forgotten at the bottom of the stairs. At dusk it helped the keeper of the lighthouse make his way from the bottom of the stairs to his bedroom. It seemed to the oil lamp that he is not important. To his way of thinking, his shortcomings were made clear by his nearness to one so much greater than he. Always, the oil lamp labored under this heaviness of heart.  Then one day, after a brilliant afternoon when many visitors had come to play on the sandy beach, there was a knock at the door. It was a boy, searching for a friend who was lost. The sun had set and what had seemed such friendly shores hours before was now dark and cold.  The keeper quickly took the youth inside and hugged him into a blanket. Then he reached to the hook between the door and the stairs and took down the little oil lamp. After carefully making sure that the tank was full of oil, the keeper lit the lamp and whispered, "Burn bright tonight, my dear friend. I cannot take the lighthouse with me. He serves his purpose here, but you were made for times like this. It is now that I need you most!" In that instant, all of the oil lamp's misgivings were replaced by joy---joy in knowing that here was something only he could do. All through the night, through bushes, the oil lamp burned brighter and more steadily than ever before. He had to; the keeper was depending on him. At last the lost boy was found and brought safely back to the lighthouse and his friend.  Never again did the oil lamp doubt his place or purpose. He had learned a great lesson that night: he was happiest and most useful being himself. The little oil lamp didn't like his job because   _  .
he thought the light house were more important than him he had to help the keeper make his way he was forgotten by all the people his labor was heavy at heart
Question: The Oil Lamp and the Lighthouse On an island off the coast of a rocky shore stood a great lighthouse. During the day, the white walls of the lighthouse shined under the sunlight, while at night it burned a light for those at sea. Many people visited the lighthouse, and when they did, they commented on its size and strength and admired the beauty that it added to the surroundings. Some told its keeper how its light had saved them during a storm.  All loved the lighthouse except a little oil lamp that lived in the lighthouse. By day it hung forgotten at the bottom of the stairs. At dusk it helped the keeper of the lighthouse make his way from the bottom of the stairs to his bedroom. It seemed to the oil lamp that he is not important. To his way of thinking, his shortcomings were made clear by his nearness to one so much greater than he. Always, the oil lamp labored under this heaviness of heart.  Then one day, after a brilliant afternoon when many visitors had come to play on the sandy beach, there was a knock at the door. It was a boy, searching for a friend who was lost. The sun had set and what had seemed such friendly shores hours before was now dark and cold.  The keeper quickly took the youth inside and hugged him into a blanket. Then he reached to the hook between the door and the stairs and took down the little oil lamp. After carefully making sure that the tank was full of oil, the keeper lit the lamp and whispered, "Burn bright tonight, my dear friend. I cannot take the lighthouse with me. He serves his purpose here, but you were made for times like this. It is now that I need you most!" In that instant, all of the oil lamp's misgivings were replaced by joy---joy in knowing that here was something only he could do. All through the night, through bushes, the oil lamp burned brighter and more steadily than ever before. He had to; the keeper was depending on him. At last the lost boy was found and brought safely back to the lighthouse and his friend.  Never again did the oil lamp doubt his place or purpose. He had learned a great lesson that night: he was happiest and most useful being himself. The little oil lamp didn't like his job because   _  .
A. he thought the light house were more important than him
B. he had to help the keeper make his way
C. he was forgotten by all the people
D. his labor was heavy at heart
Answer: