Once again, please let us send you our apology for our tardiness 
And now, we're really honor to announce that below are competitors whose essays received the best comments from our choosy judge, Mr. Vo Phan Nghiem:
Your rewards will soon be delivered and we hope you will find them useful for your further study 
Thanks for your participation and we expect to receive your constant support in the future
And below is the essay that won our 1st prize
Let's read it and raise your own opinion ^^
I woke up today in broad daylight. Still dozing with drowsiness, I in an ungainly fashion groped my way out of the left-hand side of my bed down a wooden flight of steps into the usually busy bathroom shared by a 6-person household. But this morning, as the sun was already beating down from atop, it was seemingly reserved exclusively for me. I tapped some water onto my terrible-looking face which signified how vigourous I was at last night’s party.
Hardly had I walked out of the bathroom when all of a sudden mom cast an angry glaze at me, ordering me to do the dishes for her. And I did so without oral grievance. While I was reluctantly washing those filthy plates and pots, a startling number flashed out of the corner of my right eye. It was the “March 8 09” that jumped off my watch.
“oh, dear”, I whispered to myself, “I am a bad boy…”.
And I went on with the dishes, but with genuine willingness, for I had to lift some fingers at least on a rare basis. The first job was done. I then offered to mop the floor and also to wash the clothes, but not the cooking. I can’t fry an egg to save my life. However, I decided to settle down and watch mom prepare lunch. And the closer the look, the clearer the memories…
And that was also the time when I did the most traveling. I can still perfectly draw the rosy picture of mom and me together in the zoo. That was the very first time I had landed a chance to look face-to-face at a genuine elephant. I measured up only to its knee. She had to lift me up so that I could touch the huge long nose. Saying good-bye to the elephant, mom showed me round the caged bears, the dethroned lions, and the captivated eagles. It was a biggest whale of time. And before long we were already at the mini-car racing site. I appeared to have been born with a knack for driving, for I steered and swerved and yelled pretty well. Mom was put through the mill chasing behind, pushing the car so that the speed should not plump to zero. It had no engine in deed.
A month after this fascinating experience, my family went on an unforgettable trip the beach. Like the previous event, this one was my first taste of the ocean. After a 2-hour bus journey, we stopped over at a cheap hotel along coast. And presently afterward we were all standing on the sandy beach on our own feet. Again, mom chased me around. We splashed the salty water all over. We confronted the tremendous waves. We shared a big black rubber float. We built vulnerable sandcastles. Mom dug a big hole into which I buried my body up to the neck. That was really cool, though it was actually really cold. Dead on our feet, we went back to the beach bends and tucked into our lunch, gobbling make-the-mouth-water sandwiches and quenching our thirst with huge cans of coke. The sun was merciless in such areas. But the beach left an excellent taste in my mouth.
With the flying time, it came to pass that I entered high-school. During these 7 seven years of donkey’s work, it must have been the luck of God’s draw that I was born to such a “Prudential” mother. Throughout this phase, I was under tremendous pressure from school work. There were about 9 subjects to go for. There was hardly a moment to idle around. Tuning deeply in my predicament, mom never asked me to put the book down in the name of housework harassment. There was no washing up, no tidying up, no dishing, and no cooking. I was a pampered puppy.
While I was at school, mom went to the market. When break-time came, she was busy in the kitchen. When I was on the home straight, she was tidying up the kitchen. Back home, I would fling my bag onto my bed, do a quick freshening, and trot out for a hearty lunch. Then I would proceed to my room, taking a 90-minute nap, recharging my batteries in bracing for a new afternoon.
It was only at mid-day that mom took a rest. She would sleep for a while, then get up and watch some TV. I would wake up at almost the same time and begin to play the piano. My mother would bear all the noise a made with great fortitude, for this upright Kimball piano spoke louder than a whole church. And for the rest of the afternoon I would simply read books, solve math exercises, and write essays at times. It was a time of chore-wise leisure.
In the evening, mom would love to do the gardening. It was a big garden which, thanks to my mom’s intense care, housed blooming colourful flowers and lush fruitful trees. She could do something different, but never interrupted my flow of thoughts. Before bedtime, she would prepare the sleeping nets and wait for me to drift into sleep before turning off the lights and putting her own body and mind at rest. She was worth her weight in gold.
“Nothing. I just don’t know what to do.”, I replied.
“well, why don’t you go to the market and buy me some onions?”
“Sure, I’ll be back in 10 minutes.”
And I rushed out on my bike, heading toward the crowded marketplace in absolute eagerness.
Before the actual event, I hadn’t actually known anything about the city: life, traffic, people, food, and most to the point, the way to get there. I was in comparison to some friends of mine a little bit maladjusted. And so one month in advance, mom caught a 52-seat bus to the examination zone and found me a nice quiet little flat right on the spot. Some friends failed due to inconvenience of travel, low standard of housing, and ill quality of food. I luckily had such a caring package tour guide that I stepped into the room with absolute peace of mind. And I passed the test.
Afterward another question arose: why would I be dwelling four the next 4 years? And mom found the way, for she had the will. Another one month before the school congregation, my mother caught another 52-seat bus to my university surrounding area and scoured all paths for a suitable flat. Daddy insisted on me sharing the flat with some other guys somewhere pretty faraway, but mom put her foot down and stuck to her ground, asserting that I should be staying all by myself in a suitable flat. And she laid her fingers on one. The room is so lovely that I could have been knocked down with a feather on setting my eyes on its innards. I have a free bed, a free wardrobe, and a complementary work surface on which to do the cooking. I’ve brought my Pentium III PC up here, and also my electric keyboard. It is a real home away from home. A room of my own with all facilities in the heart of the biggest city in the country: I am now under optimally conducive environment which will undeniably boost my progress and gear me up with adequate social skills.
The room itself is no cheap. In fact, it costs 1 100 000 VND a month, exclusive of electricity and water and food and the internet bills. I cost my dad two arms and a leg. But he hasn’t really known about this. My mother simply wants me to be at my best. And with my interests at heart, she will never get cold feet in earmarking all her nest-egg, and keeping my dad in the dark.
Now that I have lived in this 12-meter-square room for 5 months, I realize how much I have taken for granted. In late December 2008, as a celebration of my birthday, I went with my mother to the zoo. Normally I would throw a huge party and would be out on the town with my friends. But this time, my teacher burst into laughter as she heard me saying: I went to the zoo with my mother on my birthday. She was right at one point, that it was a bit abnormal. But the day turned out to be a red-letter day.
I was in seventh heaven when I for the second time of my life walked into the zoo with my mother in tow. We visited the elephants, took a few photos, and then went back to my flat to devour the creamy cake snapped from the Tax Mall. It was heart-warming more than ever. My birthday: no old friends gave me a decent phone call; no new friends sent me a good SMS; no ex-girlfriends who have become intimate friends sent me a carefully wrapped little paper box. Only my mother was there. And at the end of the day, I knew my tears were a bit late.
And I rushed into the kitchen, and locked her in my loving embrace, and the room was filled with the unmistakable scent of red roses.
Bùi Đức Tiến – 1A08
And now, we're really honor to announce that below are competitors whose essays received the best comments from our choosy judge, Mr. Vo Phan Nghiem:
1st:
Bùi Đức Tiến - 1A08
2nd:
Nguyễn Lê Thùy Dương - 3B06
3rd:
Lê Thị Bích Trâm - 2C07
and
Nguyễn Minh Trang - 1TMA08
Congratulations Bùi Đức Tiến - 1A08
2nd:
Nguyễn Lê Thùy Dương - 3B06
3rd:
Lê Thị Bích Trâm - 2C07
and
Nguyễn Minh Trang - 1TMA08
Your rewards will soon be delivered and we hope you will find them useful for your further study Thanks for your participation and we expect to receive your constant support in the future
And below is the essay that won our 1st prize
Let's read it and raise your own opinion ^^“HERE ARE YOUR ONIONS!”
I woke up today in broad daylight. Still dozing with drowsiness, I in an ungainly fashion groped my way out of the left-hand side of my bed down a wooden flight of steps into the usually busy bathroom shared by a 6-person household. But this morning, as the sun was already beating down from atop, it was seemingly reserved exclusively for me. I tapped some water onto my terrible-looking face which signified how vigourous I was at last night’s party.
Hardly had I walked out of the bathroom when all of a sudden mom cast an angry glaze at me, ordering me to do the dishes for her. And I did so without oral grievance. While I was reluctantly washing those filthy plates and pots, a startling number flashed out of the corner of my right eye. It was the “March 8 09” that jumped off my watch.
“oh, dear”, I whispered to myself, “I am a bad boy…”.
And I went on with the dishes, but with genuine willingness, for I had to lift some fingers at least on a rare basis. The first job was done. I then offered to mop the floor and also to wash the clothes, but not the cooking. I can’t fry an egg to save my life. However, I decided to settle down and watch mom prepare lunch. And the closer the look, the clearer the memories…
***
When I was just a little kid at the age of 6 or 7, I used to be carried downstairs half-asleep in my mom’s arms. I was known to most friends and family members as a boy of absolute laziness and hopelessness. And that was true at certain points. Though an elementary school pupil already, I still was not capable of picking at my own food. It was mom who had to patiently put one spoonful after another into my uneasy-going gigantic mouth. I supposed I was at that time a real pain in the neck, as I would keep fleeing my meals and it took ages for me to consume a tiny portion of dinner. Apart from this, I was also bathed by my mother. Though sensible enough to manipulate the water tap in a satisfactory manner, I wasn’t by any means given authority over the cleansing of my own body. In fact, mom insisted that she would do the job better.And that was also the time when I did the most traveling. I can still perfectly draw the rosy picture of mom and me together in the zoo. That was the very first time I had landed a chance to look face-to-face at a genuine elephant. I measured up only to its knee. She had to lift me up so that I could touch the huge long nose. Saying good-bye to the elephant, mom showed me round the caged bears, the dethroned lions, and the captivated eagles. It was a biggest whale of time. And before long we were already at the mini-car racing site. I appeared to have been born with a knack for driving, for I steered and swerved and yelled pretty well. Mom was put through the mill chasing behind, pushing the car so that the speed should not plump to zero. It had no engine in deed.
A month after this fascinating experience, my family went on an unforgettable trip the beach. Like the previous event, this one was my first taste of the ocean. After a 2-hour bus journey, we stopped over at a cheap hotel along coast. And presently afterward we were all standing on the sandy beach on our own feet. Again, mom chased me around. We splashed the salty water all over. We confronted the tremendous waves. We shared a big black rubber float. We built vulnerable sandcastles. Mom dug a big hole into which I buried my body up to the neck. That was really cool, though it was actually really cold. Dead on our feet, we went back to the beach bends and tucked into our lunch, gobbling make-the-mouth-water sandwiches and quenching our thirst with huge cans of coke. The sun was merciless in such areas. But the beach left an excellent taste in my mouth.
With the flying time, it came to pass that I entered high-school. During these 7 seven years of donkey’s work, it must have been the luck of God’s draw that I was born to such a “Prudential” mother. Throughout this phase, I was under tremendous pressure from school work. There were about 9 subjects to go for. There was hardly a moment to idle around. Tuning deeply in my predicament, mom never asked me to put the book down in the name of housework harassment. There was no washing up, no tidying up, no dishing, and no cooking. I was a pampered puppy.
While I was at school, mom went to the market. When break-time came, she was busy in the kitchen. When I was on the home straight, she was tidying up the kitchen. Back home, I would fling my bag onto my bed, do a quick freshening, and trot out for a hearty lunch. Then I would proceed to my room, taking a 90-minute nap, recharging my batteries in bracing for a new afternoon.
It was only at mid-day that mom took a rest. She would sleep for a while, then get up and watch some TV. I would wake up at almost the same time and begin to play the piano. My mother would bear all the noise a made with great fortitude, for this upright Kimball piano spoke louder than a whole church. And for the rest of the afternoon I would simply read books, solve math exercises, and write essays at times. It was a time of chore-wise leisure.
In the evening, mom would love to do the gardening. It was a big garden which, thanks to my mom’s intense care, housed blooming colourful flowers and lush fruitful trees. She could do something different, but never interrupted my flow of thoughts. Before bedtime, she would prepare the sleeping nets and wait for me to drift into sleep before turning off the lights and putting her own body and mind at rest. She was worth her weight in gold.
***
“What are you looking at?”, mom queried.“Nothing. I just don’t know what to do.”, I replied.
“well, why don’t you go to the market and buy me some onions?”
“Sure, I’ll be back in 10 minutes.”
And I rushed out on my bike, heading toward the crowded marketplace in absolute eagerness.
***
Back to the torrents of the old days, I remember when I first set foot in HCM city to sit the university entrance examination. It might sound a crying shame, but I could never have made my way into my new school had mom not been by my side.Before the actual event, I hadn’t actually known anything about the city: life, traffic, people, food, and most to the point, the way to get there. I was in comparison to some friends of mine a little bit maladjusted. And so one month in advance, mom caught a 52-seat bus to the examination zone and found me a nice quiet little flat right on the spot. Some friends failed due to inconvenience of travel, low standard of housing, and ill quality of food. I luckily had such a caring package tour guide that I stepped into the room with absolute peace of mind. And I passed the test.
Afterward another question arose: why would I be dwelling four the next 4 years? And mom found the way, for she had the will. Another one month before the school congregation, my mother caught another 52-seat bus to my university surrounding area and scoured all paths for a suitable flat. Daddy insisted on me sharing the flat with some other guys somewhere pretty faraway, but mom put her foot down and stuck to her ground, asserting that I should be staying all by myself in a suitable flat. And she laid her fingers on one. The room is so lovely that I could have been knocked down with a feather on setting my eyes on its innards. I have a free bed, a free wardrobe, and a complementary work surface on which to do the cooking. I’ve brought my Pentium III PC up here, and also my electric keyboard. It is a real home away from home. A room of my own with all facilities in the heart of the biggest city in the country: I am now under optimally conducive environment which will undeniably boost my progress and gear me up with adequate social skills.
The room itself is no cheap. In fact, it costs 1 100 000 VND a month, exclusive of electricity and water and food and the internet bills. I cost my dad two arms and a leg. But he hasn’t really known about this. My mother simply wants me to be at my best. And with my interests at heart, she will never get cold feet in earmarking all her nest-egg, and keeping my dad in the dark.
Now that I have lived in this 12-meter-square room for 5 months, I realize how much I have taken for granted. In late December 2008, as a celebration of my birthday, I went with my mother to the zoo. Normally I would throw a huge party and would be out on the town with my friends. But this time, my teacher burst into laughter as she heard me saying: I went to the zoo with my mother on my birthday. She was right at one point, that it was a bit abnormal. But the day turned out to be a red-letter day.
I was in seventh heaven when I for the second time of my life walked into the zoo with my mother in tow. We visited the elephants, took a few photos, and then went back to my flat to devour the creamy cake snapped from the Tax Mall. It was heart-warming more than ever. My birthday: no old friends gave me a decent phone call; no new friends sent me a good SMS; no ex-girlfriends who have become intimate friends sent me a carefully wrapped little paper box. Only my mother was there. And at the end of the day, I knew my tears were a bit late.
***
“Here are your onions, mom!!!”, I cried out.And I rushed into the kitchen, and locked her in my loving embrace, and the room was filled with the unmistakable scent of red roses.
Bùi Đức Tiến – 1A08
6 comments:
Congratulations to all the winners!!!!!!!! You're rock!!!!!
Congratulations to all the winners!!!!!!!! You're rock!!!!!
:">
beyond my expectation :-<
aaaaa stupid mistake >_<
beyond my expectation :-> :">
Post a Comment