Pre Ujian Tengah semester 2025

The Last Lesson from My Grandma

¹Last winter, my grandma passed away. It was one of the hardest moments in my life. She wasn’t only my grandma—she was also my friend, my storyteller, and the person who always believed in me. Whenever I felt down, she knew how to cheer me up with a story, a smile, or even just by listening.

²I still remember the night we got the phone call from the hospital. It was very late, almost midnight. My mom answered the phone, and her voice sounded worried. She told me that Grandma was very weak and the doctors were not sure how much longer she had. We rushed to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, she had already passed away. The doctor explained that her heart had stopped peacefully. That gave me a little comfort, but deep inside, I wondered if she felt alone during her last moments.

^3The days after were filled with sadness and many things happening at once. Relatives came from different cities, the funeral was planned, and everyone was busy. People told me, “Be strong,” or “She’s in a better place.” Their words were kind, but they didn’t really help me understand how to deal with the pain. What helped me most came from something unexpected.

⁴At the wake, my aunt handed me a small wooden box. Inside were letters my grandma had written just for me. She had written them for different times in my life—when I graduated, when I fell in love, even for my future wedding day. She knew she might not be there for those moments, so she left her words as a gift. That night, I read every letter. The last one ended with: “Don’t cry because I’m gone. Smile because I was here.”

⁵Later, while cleaning her house, I discovered more about her. She had saved every drawing I made as a child—even the messy ones with crumpled edges. In her cookbooks, I found small poems she had written about sunsets and birds. To me, she had always seemed serious, but these discoveries showed me another side of her—creative, gentle, and sentimental. It made me realize that sometimes we don’t know everything about the people we love, and maybe we should take more time to ask and listen.

⁶For a while, I felt guilty. I wished I had visited more, or asked her more questions about her childhood and dreams. But in her letters, she reminded me: “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you learn from them.” Those words lifted some of the guilt from my heart.

⁷Now, whenever I see a red bird—a cardinal, her favorite—I think of her. I feel like she is still with me. She lives on in the recipes I cook, the stories I share with my little sister, and the courage I try to show when life is difficult. Death took her away, but it couldn’t take away her lessons, her love, or the way she shaped who I am today.

Why did the writer describe Grandma as more than just a grandparent?

• She often cooked for the writer

• She told funny stories

• She played many roles: friend, storyteller, supporter

• She lived with the writer

The Last Lesson from My Grandma

¹Last winter, my grandma passed away. It was one of the hardest moments in my life. She wasn’t only my grandma—she was also my friend, my storyteller, and the person who always believed in me. Whenever I felt down, she knew how to cheer me up with a story, a smile, or even just by listening.

²I still remember the night we got the phone call from the hospital. It was very late, almost midnight. My mom answered the phone, and her voice sounded worried. She told me that Grandma was very weak and the doctors were not sure how much longer she had. We rushed to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, she had already passed away. The doctor explained that her heart had stopped peacefully. That gave me a little comfort, but deep inside, I wondered if she felt alone during her last moments.

^3The days after were filled with sadness and many things happening at once. Relatives came from different cities, the funeral was planned, and everyone was busy. People told me, “Be strong,” or “She’s in a better place.” Their words were kind, but they didn’t really help me understand how to deal with the pain. What helped me most came from something unexpected.

⁴At the wake, my aunt handed me a small wooden box. Inside were letters my grandma had written just for me. She had written them for different times in my life—when I graduated, when I fell in love, even for my future wedding day. She knew she might not be there for those moments, so she left her words as a gift. That night, I read every letter. The last one ended with: “Don’t cry because I’m gone. Smile because I was here.”

⁵Later, while cleaning her house, I discovered more about her. She had saved every drawing I made as a child—even the messy ones with crumpled edges. In her cookbooks, I found small poems she had written about sunsets and birds. To me, she had always seemed serious, but these discoveries showed me another side of her—creative, gentle, and sentimental. It made me realize that sometimes we don’t know everything about the people we love, and maybe we should take more time to ask and listen.

⁶For a while, I felt guilty. I wished I had visited more, or asked her more questions about her childhood and dreams. But in her letters, she reminded me: “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you learn from them.” Those words lifted some of the guilt from my heart.

⁷Now, whenever I see a red bird—a cardinal, her favorite—I think of her. I feel like she is still with me. She lives on in the recipes I cook, the stories I share with my little sister, and the courage I try to show when life is difficult. Death took her away, but it couldn’t take away her lessons, her love, or the way she shaped who I am today.

Why do you think Grandma wrote letters for her grandchild's future milestones?

• She enjoyed practicing handwriting

• She wanted her grandchild to remember her lessons even after her death

• She was required to by her family

• She planned to mail them later

The Last Lesson from My Grandma

¹Last winter, my grandma passed away. It was one of the hardest moments in my life. She wasn’t only my grandma—she was also my friend, my storyteller, and the person who always believed in me. Whenever I felt down, she knew how to cheer me up with a story, a smile, or even just by listening.

²I still remember the night we got the phone call from the hospital. It was very late, almost midnight. My mom answered the phone, and her voice sounded worried. She told me that Grandma was very weak and the doctors were not sure how much longer she had. We rushed to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, she had already passed away. The doctor explained that her heart had stopped peacefully. That gave me a little comfort, but deep inside, I wondered if she felt alone during her last moments.

^3The days after were filled with sadness and many things happening at once. Relatives came from different cities, the funeral was planned, and everyone was busy. People told me, “Be strong,” or “She’s in a better place.” Their words were kind, but they didn’t really help me understand how to deal with the pain. What helped me most came from something unexpected.

⁴At the wake, my aunt handed me a small wooden box. Inside were letters my grandma had written just for me. She had written them for different times in my life—when I graduated, when I fell in love, even for my future wedding day. She knew she might not be there for those moments, so she left her words as a gift. That night, I read every letter. The last one ended with: “Don’t cry because I’m gone. Smile because I was here.”

⁵Later, while cleaning her house, I discovered more about her. She had saved every drawing I made as a child—even the messy ones with crumpled edges. In her cookbooks, I found small poems she had written about sunsets and birds. To me, she had always seemed serious, but these discoveries showed me another side of her—creative, gentle, and sentimental. It made me realize that sometimes we don’t know everything about the people we love, and maybe we should take more time to ask and listen.

⁶For a while, I felt guilty. I wished I had visited more, or asked her more questions about her childhood and dreams. But in her letters, she reminded me: “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you learn from them.” Those words lifted some of the guilt from my heart.

⁷Now, whenever I see a red bird—a cardinal, her favorite—I think of her. I feel like she is still with me. She lives on in the recipes I cook, the stories I share with my little sister, and the courage I try to show when life is difficult. Death took her away, but it couldn’t take away her lessons, her love, or the way she shaped who I am today.

What is the effect of the last sentence in Grandma's letter: "Don't cry because I'm gone. Smile because I was here"?

• It asks the writer to never think of her again

• It encourages the writer to focus on happy memories

• It blames the writer for crying

• It tells the writer to avoid smiling

The Last Lesson from My Grandma

¹Last winter, my grandma passed away. It was one of the hardest moments in my life. She wasn’t only my grandma—she was also my friend, my storyteller, and the person who always believed in me. Whenever I felt down, she knew how to cheer me up with a story, a smile, or even just by listening.

²I still remember the night we got the phone call from the hospital. It was very late, almost midnight. My mom answered the phone, and her voice sounded worried. She told me that Grandma was very weak and the doctors were not sure how much longer she had. We rushed to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, she had already passed away. The doctor explained that her heart had stopped peacefully. That gave me a little comfort, but deep inside, I wondered if she felt alone during her last moments.

^3The days after were filled with sadness and many things happening at once. Relatives came from different cities, the funeral was planned, and everyone was busy. People told me, “Be strong,” or “She’s in a better place.” Their words were kind, but they didn’t really help me understand how to deal with the pain. What helped me most came from something unexpected.

⁴At the wake, my aunt handed me a small wooden box. Inside were letters my grandma had written just for me. She had written them for different times in my life—when I graduated, when I fell in love, even for my future wedding day. She knew she might not be there for those moments, so she left her words as a gift. That night, I read every letter. The last one ended with: “Don’t cry because I’m gone. Smile because I was here.”

⁵Later, while cleaning her house, I discovered more about her. She had saved every drawing I made as a child—even the messy ones with crumpled edges. In her cookbooks, I found small poems she had written about sunsets and birds. To me, she had always seemed serious, but these discoveries showed me another side of her—creative, gentle, and sentimental. It made me realize that sometimes we don’t know everything about the people we love, and maybe we should take more time to ask and listen.

⁶For a while, I felt guilty. I wished I had visited more, or asked her more questions about her childhood and dreams. But in her letters, she reminded me: “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you learn from them.” Those words lifted some of the guilt from my heart.

⁷Now, whenever I see a red bird—a cardinal, her favorite—I think of her. I feel like she is still with me. She lives on in the recipes I cook, the stories I share with my little sister, and the courage I try to show when life is difficult. Death took her away, but it couldn’t take away her lessons, her love, or the way she shaped who I am today.

How did the letters help the writer overcome guilt?

• They told the writer never to make mistakes again

• They gave permission to forgive mistakes and keep learning

• They ordered the writer to visit more often

• They explained Grandma's secrets

The Last Lesson from My Grandma

¹Last winter, my grandma passed away. It was one of the hardest moments in my life. She wasn’t only my grandma—she was also my friend, my storyteller, and the person who always believed in me. Whenever I felt down, she knew how to cheer me up with a story, a smile, or even just by listening.

²I still remember the night we got the phone call from the hospital. It was very late, almost midnight. My mom answered the phone, and her voice sounded worried. She told me that Grandma was very weak and the doctors were not sure how much longer she had. We rushed to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, she had already passed away. The doctor explained that her heart had stopped peacefully. That gave me a little comfort, but deep inside, I wondered if she felt alone during her last moments.

^3The days after were filled with sadness and many things happening at once. Relatives came from different cities, the funeral was planned, and everyone was busy. People told me, “Be strong,” or “She’s in a better place.” Their words were kind, but they didn’t really help me understand how to deal with the pain. What helped me most came from something unexpected.

⁴At the wake, my aunt handed me a small wooden box. Inside were letters my grandma had written just for me. She had written them for different times in my life—when I graduated, when I fell in love, even for my future wedding day. She knew she might not be there for those moments, so she left her words as a gift. That night, I read every letter. The last one ended with: “Don’t cry because I’m gone. Smile because I was here.”

⁵Later, while cleaning her house, I discovered more about her. She had saved every drawing I made as a child—even the messy ones with crumpled edges. In her cookbooks, I found small poems she had written about sunsets and birds. To me, she had always seemed serious, but these discoveries showed me another side of her—creative, gentle, and sentimental. It made me realize that sometimes we don’t know everything about the people we love, and maybe we should take more time to ask and listen.

⁶For a while, I felt guilty. I wished I had visited more, or asked her more questions about her childhood and dreams. But in her letters, she reminded me: “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you learn from them.” Those words lifted some of the guilt from my heart.

⁷Now, whenever I see a red bird—a cardinal, her favorite—I think of her. I feel like she is still with me. She lives on in the recipes I cook, the stories I share with my little sister, and the courage I try to show when life is difficult. Death took her away, but it couldn’t take away her lessons, her love, or the way she shaped who I am today.

One part of the story shows how quickly life can change in short span of time.

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The Last Lesson from My Grandma

¹Last winter, my grandma passed away. It was one of the hardest moments in my life. She wasn’t only my grandma—she was also my friend, my storyteller, and the person who always believed in me. Whenever I felt down, she knew how to cheer me up with a story, a smile, or even just by listening.

²I still remember the night we got the phone call from the hospital. It was very late, almost midnight. My mom answered the phone, and her voice sounded worried. She told me that Grandma was very weak and the doctors were not sure how much longer she had. We rushed to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, she had already passed away. The doctor explained that her heart had stopped peacefully. That gave me a little comfort, but deep inside, I wondered if she felt alone during her last moments.

^3The days after were filled with sadness and many things happening at once. Relatives came from different cities, the funeral was planned, and everyone was busy. People told me, “Be strong,” or “She’s in a better place.” Their words were kind, but they didn’t really help me understand how to deal with the pain. What helped me most came from something unexpected.

⁴At the wake, my aunt handed me a small wooden box. Inside were letters my grandma had written just for me. She had written them for different times in my life—when I graduated, when I fell in love, even for my future wedding day. She knew she might not be there for those moments, so she left her words as a gift. That night, I read every letter. The last one ended with: “Don’t cry because I’m gone. Smile because I was here.”

⁵Later, while cleaning her house, I discovered more about her. She had saved every drawing I made as a child—even the messy ones with crumpled edges. In her cookbooks, I found small poems she had written about sunsets and birds. To me, she had always seemed serious, but these discoveries showed me another side of her—creative, gentle, and sentimental. It made me realize that sometimes we don’t know everything about the people we love, and maybe we should take more time to ask and listen.

⁶For a while, I felt guilty. I wished I had visited more, or asked her more questions about her childhood and dreams. But in her letters, she reminded me: “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you learn from them.” Those words lifted some of the guilt from my heart.

⁷Now, whenever I see a red bird—a cardinal, her favorite—I think of her. I feel like she is still with me. She lives on in the recipes I cook, the stories I share with my little sister, and the courage I try to show when life is difficult. Death took her away, but it couldn’t take away her lessons, her love, or the way she shaped who I am today.

Grandma encourages the writer not to focus on sadness but instead to remember the joy of her life.

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The Last Lesson from My Grandma

¹Last winter, my grandma passed away. It was one of the hardest moments in my life. She wasn’t only my grandma—she was also my friend, my storyteller, and the person who always believed in me. Whenever I felt down, she knew how to cheer me up with a story, a smile, or even just by listening.

²I still remember the night we got the phone call from the hospital. It was very late, almost midnight. My mom answered the phone, and her voice sounded worried. She told me that Grandma was very weak and the doctors were not sure how much longer she had. We rushed to the hospital, but by the time we arrived, she had already passed away. The doctor explained that her heart had stopped peacefully. That gave me a little comfort, but deep inside, I wondered if she felt alone during her last moments.

^3The days after were filled with sadness and many things happening at once. Relatives came from different cities, the funeral was planned, and everyone was busy. People told me, “Be strong,” or “She’s in a better place.” Their words were kind, but they didn’t really help me understand how to deal with the pain. What helped me most came from something unexpected.

⁴At the wake, my aunt handed me a small wooden box. Inside were letters my grandma had written just for me. She had written them for different times in my life—when I graduated, when I fell in love, even for my future wedding day. She knew she might not be there for those moments, so she left her words as a gift. That night, I read every letter. The last one ended with: “Don’t cry because I’m gone. Smile because I was here.”

⁵Later, while cleaning her house, I discovered more about her. She had saved every drawing I made as a child—even the messy ones with crumpled edges. In her cookbooks, I found small poems she had written about sunsets and birds. To me, she had always seemed serious, but these discoveries showed me another side of her—creative, gentle, and sentimental. It made me realize that sometimes we don’t know everything about the people we love, and maybe we should take more time to ask and listen.

⁶For a while, I felt guilty. I wished I had visited more, or asked her more questions about her childhood and dreams. But in her letters, she reminded me: “Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you learn from them.” Those words lifted some of the guilt from my heart.

⁷Now, whenever I see a red bird—a cardinal, her favorite—I think of her. I feel like she is still with me. She lives on in the recipes I cook, the stories I share with my little sister, and the courage I try to show when life is difficult. Death took her away, but it couldn’t take away her lessons, her love, or the way she shaped who I am today.

This paragraph makes the writer think deeply about whether we ever truly understand the people we love. It shows how Grandma's hidden habits made her seem more complex than before.

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Last Saturday, our school held the annual School Festival, and it was the first time I had ever participated as a student organizer. The event was held in the schoolyard, which was decorated with colorful flags, balloons, and banners. The morning air was fresh, and the excitement among students was almost tangible.

Everyone was busy preparing their booths, adjusting the sound system, or arranging chairs for the audience.

I was assigned to the game booth along with my two best friends, Rani and Fajar.

Our booth featured a ring toss game, and the prizes were small keychains, candies, and notebooks with the school logo. At first, I was nervous because I had never been responsible for handling so many visitors. However, as the first group of students approached, I greeted them with a big smile and explained the rules. My nervousness quickly turned into enthusiasm.

Around 10 a.m., the main stage came alive with performances. The school band played cheerful songs, and the dance club performed a K-pop medley that drew loud cheers from the crowd. I took turns with Rani to sneak a quick look at the performances while Fajar stayed to manage the booth. My favorite moment was when the teachers performed a comedy skit-it made everyone laugh so hard.

One of the highlights of the day was the food stalls. The smell of grilled satay, fried noodles, and sweet cake.

From the text we know that …

• Fajar went with narrator and Rani to watch performances.

• The School Festival was held next Saturday

• The event took place in the school yard

• The game booth only offered edible prizes to participants.

Last Saturday, our school held the annual School Festival, and it was the first time I had ever participated as a student organizer. The event was held in the schoolyard, which was decorated with colorful flags, balloons, and banners. The morning air was fresh, and the excitement among students was almost tangible.

Everyone was busy preparing their booths, adjusting the sound system, or arranging chairs for the audience.

I was assigned to the game booth along with my two best friends, Rani and Fajar.

Our booth featured a ring toss game, and the prizes were small keychains, candies, and notebooks with the school logo. At first, I was nervous because I had never been responsible for handling so many visitors. However, as the first group of students approached, I greeted them with a big smile and explained the rules. My nervousness quickly turned into enthusiasm.

Around 10 a.m., the main stage came alive with performances. The school band played cheerful songs, and the dance club performed a K-pop medley that drew loud cheers from the crowd. I took turns with Rani to sneak a quick look at the performances while Fajar stayed to manage the booth. My favorite moment was when the teachers performed a comedy skit-it made everyone laugh so hard.

One of the highlights of the day was the food stalls. The smell of grilled satay, fried noodles, and sweet cake.

Everyone was contributing in preparing the school festival by doing following activities, except for …

• arranging their stands,

• fine-tuning the sound system,

• organizing chairs

MY VISIT TO MY GRANDMA'S HOUSE

Last week, I went to visit my grandma. She is quite old now, but she is still one of the kindest and funniest people I know. Even though she can walk around the house on her own, her eyesight is not very good anymore. Because of that, she sometimes needs my help with small things. I like visiting her because we always share happy moments together, and there is usually something funny that happens.

Before going to her house, I wanted to bring her a little surprise. I picked some colorful flowers from the garden and bought her a bar of her favorite chocolate. When I arrived, Grandma was waiting by the door with a big smile. I handed her the flowers and the chocolate, and her face lit up with joy. She thanked me warmly and gave me one of her tight hugs, the kind that always makes me feel loved.

As usual, I helped her with a few chores around the house. First, I tidied the living room by arranging the cushions on the sofa and dusting the table. Then I moved to the kitchen, where I washed the dishes and wiped the counters until they were shiny and clean. Finally, I vacuumed her bedroom, making sure to reach all the corners. When I was done, the whole house felt fresh and comfortable.

After that, Grandma handed me a small shopping list. She needed bread, some fresh vegetables, milk, and a few tins of soup. I walked to the nearby supermarket and carefully chose everything she had written down. When I came back, I placed the tins neatly in the cupboard and put the milk, fruit, and vegetables in the fridge. Grandma was very pleased and said I was a great helper.

To thank me, she made us a nice cup of tea and cut us each a slice of chocolate cake. We sat at the table together, sipping our tea and enjoying the sweet treat. We chatted for a while about school, the neighbors, and the weather. Then it was time for our favorite tradition—watching TV together. Both of us love the series The Last Kingdom. It is set in the ninth century, during the reign of King Alfred, when Saxons and Danes lived together in England.

I asked Grandma to turn on the TV and find the right channel. She picked up what she thought was the remote control and began pressing the buttons. Nothing happened. She pressed harder, then shook it in frustration. “Strange,” she said, “I just put in a new battery!” Finally, she handed it to me. That was when I saw the problem. It wasn’t the remote at all—it was my mobile phone! We both laughed so hard that our stomachs hurt. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful day with Grandma.

Which of the following best shows that Grandma was very happy with the gifts?

• She made a shopping list

• She gave the writer a tight hug

• She vacuumed the living room

• She served tea and cake