SAMPLE ESSAY FOR SPM CONTINUOUS WRITING - "PEACE"

*If I am not mistaken, one word question is no longer in existence for the present SPM exam paper. Nevertheless, this piece of essay is something worth reading.

** I could not even remember when was the last time I posted a sample essay in my blog.

*** Sample essays are meant to provide students with an example of how a good essay should be written. Please never ever memorize any essay for your upcoming exam. And plagiarism is a sin.

PEACE

[WRITER UNKNOWN]

        Peace: a simple word that is easy to pronounce, yet difficult to define because of its extreme complexity. It is undeniable that the word "Peace" has spawned many books, magazines and articles by a range of different authors. However, when I was a young girl, I used to believe that the word "Peace" referred to to white, flying birds! Be honest! Almost every poster with the word "Peace" has pictures of birds and happy, smiling children. As I grew older, I soon realized that the birds were actually doves. But what does the word mean to me now?

          I believe that peace is right here, in Malaysia. People of different races and religions celebrate a variety of cultures and festivals. We are in sync with each other, we do not fight, and we live in harmony every day. I find that amazing and I am thankful for the tranquility we have in Malaysia. Look at the less fortunate countries such as Iraq and Palestine. The children and women spend their days dodging bombs and bullets while the men fight wars. They ride on with faith, praying that it is not their last, and believe that there will be peace in their country one day. To them, peace is as simple as having a meal on the table a happy family gathered together. Some people say some men are wise and some are otherwise. Well, I think these not-so-wise men should stop wars for the sake of mankind.

          My maternal grandmother used to frighten me when I was a child. She was old, wrinkled woman with sparse, grey hair. Her fingers were long and bony and I used to flinch when she reached out for me. But it wasn't her physical appearance that scared me; it was her frequent emotional outbursts. She would fling the things around her and cry for no reason. Later on, the doctor diagnosed her with paranoid. schizophernia. She was probably mentally scarred during the Japanese occupation.

          My grandmother passed away seven years ago after her final catharsis. I was still afraid of her at that time. But looking back now, I think my grandmother finally found peace. I like to believe that she is in a peaceful place now with my grandfather and they are both laughing at me for being very, very stupid when I was young. Right now, I think that peace is a paradox. While the people in Iraq are fighting for peace in life, my grandmother found hers in death. It is ironic but it does not amuse me.

          As a teenager, I find peace at home. If a man's house is a castle, then the invaders are surely the forces of stress and expectations. After a long day at school, I rush home to read my comics. Reading comics does not only give ,e a peace of mind, it also allows my imagination to run free. But if I am too tired to read or study, I flee. I run to my room and tuck myself into bed. I escape to dreamland and run away from all my troubles. A good night's sleep calms down my mind and puts me at ease.

         To put it in a nutshell, I believe that peace is more than a word. It is a complex emotion that we feel even for the strangest of reasons. They say that "Happiness in life is a journey, not a destination." I believe that it is the same for peace. Every day I learn a little bit more about peace and the definitions of peace grow continuously in my heart. I think that peace is an exciting discovery I experience in my daily life. What about you? What does peace mean to you?

SPM CONTINUOUS WRITING SAMPLE

FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSE ONLY. MAY MANY WILL BENEFIT.

NOT FOR COMMERCIAL USE.

*If you have read the essay posted in the last two postings, this one has the same title "TOMORROW" but was dealt in a totally different way.

** Please do not try to memorize any essay for examination. it doesn't work that way.

T O M O R R O W

by: writer unknown

Strolling down the paved pathway, with my fingers tightly clasped around my little sister's wrist. I breathed in the fresh air and allowed the soothing wind to determine my route. The serene park was quiet as the sun was just rising, its ray of light peeping through the clouds. I saw something in a distant shade of velvet red. Just one rose amidst the bushes. The rose somehow beamed unlike any other I had ever seen. It had not fully bloomed. There was an odd vulnerability to that rose. Pacing back home, my sister softly muttered the lines of a famous song. She sang, "The future's not for ours to see," and her voice trailed off as we entered the house.

That red rose sat on my dining table in a fragile, transparent vase. I could not help myself. It just had to come home with me. Day after day, my eyes were preoccupied wandering along the petals of the rose and and down its stalk. The first couple of days the rose fully bloomed. It looked brave and oozed confidence. That day, I received some thrilling news. My aunt had given birth to a healthy baby boy. The joy of the addition of another child filled the air. Toasts were made among the relatives and excited laughter drowned the baby's cry. Our life is sugar coated with many joyous memories. I pondered to myself what tomorrow had to offer.

Clumsily making my way down the stairs, I propped myself on a chair. Squinting due to deprived sleep, I observed my rose. At that very second, looking was just not enough. I caressed my fingers down the stalk. Thorns with such menace pricked my fingers and it certainly did hurt. I was however disturbed from analytically assessing my fingers by a phone call. my mother's wavering tone alarmed me slightly. My grandfather had been rushed to the hospital after suffering a severe fall. I could sense a certain level of panic in my mother's voice as she tried to be as calm as possible telling me she would be home late. Life does have its surprises. Some of them one never wishes for. However, life obeying the concept of balance will present us with hardship and turmoil. Sadness, despair and anger are feelings which we cannot hide from. I prayed that day that tomorrow would be a better one.

The rose, the following day, no longer stood confidently. It wilted to one side. The flower in my palm felt limp and weak. It no longer had the visual appeal it did several days back. My grandfather's condition, according to the doctors was not improving. The frail man lay lifelessly on that inclined bed with tubes and breathing aids all over his body. I could tell my mother and her other siblings were losing hope. They were far too distraught to bother to hide their visible emotions. Just like the rose they were emotionally weak. Seconds clocked away slowly as I wanted that day to end and step into tomorrow.

Black pigment on the petals of the rose gave it a lacklustre appeal. It was not presentable to put a dead rose right in the centre of my dining table. Finally, the time had come for me to dispose of that very flower. As a family, we performed prayers and rituals for my grandfather who had passed away. Death had to come and it awaits all of us. Similar to disposing of the rose, we had to let my grandfather go. Who are we to dictate the cycle of life? No one. My family and I merely accepted his fate. That day was gloomy and silence was not once broken. I clasped on to the very same hope that tomorrow would be a better day.

Life hands up the golden opportunity of seeing uncountable tomorrows. As a being in this world, the only armour we are given to survive the downfalls and conflicts is our hearts. When our hearts stop hoping, our minds stop believing, and we stop living. My sister sang the perfect tune: "The future is not for ours to see". Our path in life lies before us but until we see the daylight of tomorrow, we live in the dark. Tomorrow might bring joy. Tomorrow may hand us grief. I have begun to understand that time is the essence of our journey through life. Therefore, tomorrow is the door to the future.

CONTINUOUS WRITING SAMPLE FOR SPM

FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSE ONLY. HOPEFULLY MANY WILL BENEFIT.

NOT FOR COMMERCIAL USE.

T O M O R R O W

What comes to mind when the word "tomorrow" is uttered? Do you think of hope, that further advancements made tomorrow would better our lives? Or do you think of despair, and the darkness that shrouds the unfathomable future? Or maybe some of you might perceive "tomorrow" as just another day, uneventful and tedious.

You may call me a pessimist for I nearly always attribute negative feelings to the word "tomorrow". To me, that word is merely a substitute for another word: "procrastination". How many times when something is requested from someone, they wriggle their way out of the job by simply muttering "tomorrow"? That is word is like a spell for Harry Potter to be used for avoiding mediocre tasks. Experience has taught me that when someone mentions "tomorrow", it would best to try it yourself.

Besides simple procrastination, the "T" word is also often used by the government's telecommunication company in their customer-relations sector. I have phoned in countless times to request for technical assistance as my modem keeps breaking down, and their response would frequently sounds like "we'll look into it tomorrow" or "we'll send a technician over tomorrow". However, tomorrow comes but their technician is nowhere to be seen. There is even a joke that explains why they are now registered as "TM". It stands for "Tomorrow, Maybe".

Moreover, doesn't it frustrate you when you lounge around all day and promise yourself that you will get that important thing done tomorrow, and when tomorrow comes you find you telling yourself the same sentence as yesterday? It certainly frustrated me, for I could never find the will power to begin my History revision until Sunday (the History exam was, yes you guessed it, TOMORROW). Believe me, the word "panic" with an additional understatement as I scrambled to gather my notes into my overcrowded brain.

Needless to say, I took my history exam looking like Atilla the Hun, a Viking warlord from the Dark Ages with a hairstyle that would make Albert Einstein feel very neat. My failure was due to my lack of discipline, but like all other teenagers, I find it easier to blame everyone and everything but myself. My scapegoat this time was the word "tomorrow" in the context of procrastination.

Bear with me dear reader, for I am about to indulge myself in the following of what the world would be like if "tomorrow" was never in our vocabulary. Well, the most obvious outcome would be NOT failing my History but let us delve deeper and explore all possible angles, such as the economic impacts and social life.

      Father: Hey, son. I think you'd better start studying.

      Son    : "Aiya", tomorrow! Astro Channel 30 is very 

                  interesting!

Without the context of procrastination firmly embedded in our minds, the dialogue would become something like this:

      Father: Hey son, I think you'd better start studying.

      Son    : Study? I've done 2 hours of History and 3 hours

                  of Physics!

It goes without saying, that "son" would almost certainly ace his examinations, go on to get a good job, and contribute to society, thus elevating Malaysia to giddy heights and ensuring continuous progress. However, there are negative implications too should the word "tomorrow" never appear.

 Allow me to be the devil's advocate and point out that our economy would tumble if "tomorrow" was never invented. There is a bad side of procrastination that is always highlighted by the media, but there are always to sides to everything. For example, there is a proverb that goes "good things come to those who wait". We have to learn to delay our immediate wants, and by dictionary definition, isn't delaying a task defined as "procrastination"? Furthermore, if there was no "tomorrow", nobody would think to save for a rainy day. Banks would be non-existent.

In a nutshell, the word "tomorrow" is open to many interpretations. I have merely covered one aspect of "tomorrow", and although my essay may be lengthy and tiresome, there are still many more aspects to cover. As previously written, the "T" word may mean hope to some and despair to others. It is up to you, dear reader, to think and develop your own opinion about the famous word.

SAMPLE ANSWER FOR SPM CONTINUOUS WRITING

NOTE:
You will get one question which consists of only one word. It is an open-ended essay, and therefore it is up to you whether to write a narrative essay [telling a story] or a factual-based one. Here is an example of an essay written based on facts.

TITLE: Friends

It is said that "no man is an island". Personally, I think that the saying is absolutely true. From time immemorial, Man has craved for companionship from his fellow man. It is one of our basest instincts, one dating back to the dawn of mankind. The need for companionship has become ingrained in the human psyche. With the passing of the millennium. we have become so dependent on this companionship that we simply cannot survive without it. In the modern context, our friends provide us with the aforesaid companionship that we so crave.

What, we might ask, constitutes a true friend? The emphasis here is on the word "true". Is a true friend someone who you say "hello" to every morning? Or is it someone who does you favours when you need them? Or is there something more: a connection that is more profound? The answer to the latter is definitely "yes".

Friends, in the purest sense, are one's soulmates. It sounds cliched I know, but I truly believe that it is so. True friends understand each others' needs and emotions. This understanding leads to mutual respect for each other. I also believe that understanding is a prerequisite for all good friendship. It is the mutual respect that friends have with each other lead them to care for one another whilst respecting their respective personal space and privacy. That is why when I say "soulmates", I mean that friends have an instinctive understanding, an "emotional compass" if you will, of their friends' feelings.

In the same vein, friends are people with whom one can just be oneself. With friends, there is no need for false pretenses or facades. A true friend is someone who knows the worst about you and loves you just the same. As the saying goes, "love is blind, but friendship closes one eye". This simply means that although friends see our faults and shortcomings, they choose to look past them to see only our positive traits. Thus, it does not matter if you have a host of annoying habits, or are not good-looking, or even you are singularly untalented in everything you do. A true friend loves you simply for being yourself. Nothing more and nothing less.

Friends are people whom you can trust implicitly. Have you ever told someone your deepest, darkest secrets only to have them go out and tell others? it hurts, doesn't it? What is worse, your secrets come back to you through the grapevine. That, most emphatically, is not what true friendship is about. A true friends will always keep your secrets, no matter how juicy they are and no matter how much they want to share them with others. For that reason, we trust our friends enough to pour out our feelings and thoughts to them, all the while knowing that they are in safe hands.

Ever heard the expression "laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone"? It is sadly, very much a norm in today's hypocritical and callous society. But every cloud has a silver lining. In this case, the "silver lining" comes in the form of our friends. Friends are always there when we need them. Whether we need someone to celebrate with, or we need a shoulder to cry on, they are always available. When we are down in the dumps and are discouraged, they become our mainstays to help us to keep our heads above the proverbial water. In a way, friends are like our personal cheerleaders and also our personal critics if the need arises.


The singer and scriptwriter Woody Allen once wrote in his lyrics, "I get by with a little help from my friends". The way I see it, he sums things up beautifully. A life without friends would be a lonely and sad one to say the least. Friends are like a ray of sunlight in the gloom's of today fast-paced individualistic world. Consequently, we must treasure the friends we have, for true friendship is rare. What would life without friends be like? I, for one, would never like to find out.

[published for educational purpose, writer unknown]

SAMPLE ANSWER FOR SPM'S CONTINUOUS WRITING

*NOTE: How do you tell an A essay from the rest? Apart from the very minimal grammar errors found in the writing, reading it will be something you will enjoy, as if it comes from any novel, magazine or reading material.

QUESTION: Write a story ending with: "If only I have been more careful, that wouldn't have happened."

I had absolutely no ideas about the kind of trouble I was getting myself into when I dropped out of school to join the Royal Flying Corps. Not yet seventeen, I was not of a legal age to join the army, but it was the year 1917 and Britain needed all the recruits it could get. So I was drafted along with a few other young boys like myself. One of them was Mark Way.

During the two weeks of compulsory flight training, I became fast friends with Mark. He had grown up in the countryside, and was dying to see the city. A city boy myself, I could not wait to explore the hidden wonders of the British countryside. Apart from swapping tales about our very different lives, Mark and I barely spoke. We would often sit on the hangar's roof, enshrouded in a comfortable, companionable silence.

After those two blissful weeks, all the newly-trained recruits were posted to distant lands, over strange seas, to aid the war against Germany and her allies. Mark and I were posted to France, at the very front-lines of a bloody and vicious battle. When we stepped onto the airfield at our new base, thunder boomed and lightning flashed in the sky. It was an omen of the evil fate about to befall us.

The first two days I spent on the base was nerve-wrecking. Airplanes landed and took off at the most ungodly hours. Everybody shouted on top of their lungs. And the worst of all, was the screams of dying pilots. Much of my boyhood innocence was lost in these two unforgiving days.

Poor Mark, who was rather a soft-hearted lad, was affected far worse than I was. He became pale and more introverted than he usually was. Oh, how I longed to shield him from the cruel, unforgiving world! Although I did not realize it at the moment, my protective feelings for Mark help me overcome my own fears.

Then, on the third day, Mark and I were given scout duty. This meant that we had to fly over the border and ensure that the sly, conniving Germans did not try to cross the border and conquer France a little bit at a time. As soon as I took off in a Spitfire, a smile blossomed on my face. There was nothing in the world I loved more than flying.

Just then, my radio crackled to life. It was Mark. "Hey, Bobby," he said, "I think we're going to be alright here." I could not help to agree with him. Mark shared my passion for flying and we often performed stunts in our Spitfires, much to the dismay of our flight instructors.

Now, the main reason why the British were short of pilots was because of dogfights. Dogfight is an army term for the aerial battle between two or more fighter planes. RFC viewed dogfights with a kind of carnal pleasure, a sort of battle of wits and skills in the sky.

One day, on the way back from a scouting mission, I decided to break the army's rules and fly out of formation. Why? It was a beautiful evening, with the dying sun casting its last vestiges of warmth and light over us. Mark and the two other pilots remained in formation, while I trailed behind. Not only did I break the rules, I was also careless. Flying at a low altitude like I did was always risky, but to do it out of formation was inviting trouble.

Then I heard it. The steady hum of a German Merschemist. Twisting around in my seat, I tried to see whether I was being toiled. Suddenly, the Nazi plane burst forth. From the clouds, guns a-blazing. Even as I put my Spitfire in full speed forward, I felt the bullets ripping into my wings.

With no other option on my horizon, I flew to a higher altitude, but failed to shake the German off. Desperate, I radioed for help. The cracking sound of Nazi bullets made my heart dance in my chest to a tune of fear.

Just as I was about to give up hope and condemn myself to a bloody end, Mark's plane appeared from my right. Without even a moment's pause, he flew his Spitfire in between mine and the Merschemist. Within the safety of my own plane, I heard the bullets slam into Mark's aircraft, and the answering music from his own guns.

I, too, turned my plane around and opened fire. Outnumbered two to one, the Nazi tried to beat a quick retreat, but it was too late. Our bullets hit his fuel tank, and the plane was engulfed in a sudden ball of fire.

Satisfied and ebullient, I radioed Mark and whooped in victory. His answer was somewhat reserved. "We made it," was all that he said.

When we landed our airplanes in the airfield, I noted in alarm that Mark's glass cockpit was cracked and splattered red. Without turning off the engine, I leapt out of my Spitfire and ran to Mark. His pallid form, slumped in the seat, told me what I needed to know.

Shocked and in denial, I staggered away from Mark's Spitfire. When the Commanding Officer said, "Good fellow, this Mark. He managed to land this plane before dying." something snapped within me. I fell to my knees and cried, my heavy sobs wrecking my body.

It was all my fault. I should have died today, not Mark. Not Mark. He had died to save me, a sacrifice not worth the price of his life. I had lost the person whom I most cared about in the world. If only I had been more careful, that wouldn't have happened.

**NOTE: writer anonymous. published for education purpose, strictly non-commercial