I'm afraid to grow old--we're all afraid. In fact, the fear of growing old is so great that every aged person is an insult and a threat to the society. They remind us of our own death, that our body won't always remain smooth and responsive, but will someday betray  us by aging. The ideal way to age would be to grow slowly invisible, gradually disappearing, without causing worry or discomfort to the young. In some ways that does happen. Sitting in a small park across from a nursing home one day, I noticed that the young mothers and their children gathered on one side, and the old people from the home on the other. Whenever a youngster would run over to the "wrong" side, chasing a ball or just trying to cover all the available space, the old people would lean forward and smile. But before any communication could be established, the mother would come over, murmuring embarrassed apologies, and take her child back to the "young" side. Now, it seemed to me that the children didn't feel any particular fear and the old people didn't seem to be threatened by the children. The division of space was drawn by the mothers. And the mothers never looked at the old people who lined the other side of the park. These well-dressed young women had a way of sliding their eyes over, around, through the old people; they never looked at them directly. The old people may as well have been invisible; they offended the aesthetic eye of the mothers. My early experiences were somewhat different; since I grew up in a small town, my children had more of a nineteenth-century flavor. I knew a lot of old people, and considered some of them friends. From the passage, we learn that the author   _  .
used to have the same experience as the young have today has never been afraid of getting old was quite free to know and befriend old people in his childhood both B and C
Question: I'm afraid to grow old--we're all afraid. In fact, the fear of growing old is so great that every aged person is an insult and a threat to the society. They remind us of our own death, that our body won't always remain smooth and responsive, but will someday betray  us by aging. The ideal way to age would be to grow slowly invisible, gradually disappearing, without causing worry or discomfort to the young. In some ways that does happen. Sitting in a small park across from a nursing home one day, I noticed that the young mothers and their children gathered on one side, and the old people from the home on the other. Whenever a youngster would run over to the "wrong" side, chasing a ball or just trying to cover all the available space, the old people would lean forward and smile. But before any communication could be established, the mother would come over, murmuring embarrassed apologies, and take her child back to the "young" side. Now, it seemed to me that the children didn't feel any particular fear and the old people didn't seem to be threatened by the children. The division of space was drawn by the mothers. And the mothers never looked at the old people who lined the other side of the park. These well-dressed young women had a way of sliding their eyes over, around, through the old people; they never looked at them directly. The old people may as well have been invisible; they offended the aesthetic eye of the mothers. My early experiences were somewhat different; since I grew up in a small town, my children had more of a nineteenth-century flavor. I knew a lot of old people, and considered some of them friends. From the passage, we learn that the author   _  .
A. used to have the same experience as the young have today
B. has never been afraid of getting old
C. was quite free to know and befriend old people in his childhood
D. both B and C
Answer: