Đề ôn thi Đề thi vào lớp 10 Trường Phổ thông Năng khiếu môn Tiếng Anh - Mã đề PTNK-63

Have you ever wondered what’s inside the common pencil you use every day? It may seem simple, but its creation is a fascinating process. The two main components are the pencil lead, which makes the mark, and the wood case that surrounds it. Contrary to its name, pencil lead contains no actual lead. Instead, it is a special mixture of natural materials.

The core is made by (21) __________ graphite and clay together and grinding them into (22) __________ fine powder. The amount of clay determines the hardness of the pencil; more clay results in a harder, lighter mark. This mixture is then baked in a hot oven in order to harden it, creating a solid stick. This baking process is crucial for the strength of the final product.

While the lead is prepared, blocks of cedar wood are cut up into thin slats, each half the thickness of a final pencil. A machine then carves several long, parallel grooves into each slat. A factory manager once explained that precision (23) __________ essential at this stage to ensure the lead would fit perfectly inside the grooves without rattling or breaking.

Next, the graphite-clay sticks are carefully placed into the grooves of one slat. A second grooved slat, with a layer of strong glue applied to it, is then placed on top, sandwiching the leads between the two pieces of wood. If the glue were not applied evenly, the pencil could easily break when sharpened. The whole 'sandwich' is then put under pressure until the glue dries completely.

Once assembled, the wooden block is cut into individual pencils. Each one is shaped, sanded smooth, and given several coats of paint. For many brands, adding their logo and a shiny finish is the icing on the cake. The final step often involves (24) __________ a metal ring, called a ferrule, and the familiar pink eraser to one end.

The Mid-Autumn Festival, celebrated across many East and Southeast Asian cultures, is deeply rooted in ancient harvest traditions. Falling on the 15th day of the eighth lunar month, it marks a time of thanksgiving for bountiful harvests and family reunions under the brightest full moon. [I] These autumnal celebrations reflect humanity's age-old connection to agricultural cycles. [II]

In Vietnam, this beloved occasion is known as Tết Trung Thu, or the Children's Festival. Traditionally, it's been a magical night dedicated to youngsters. Children parade through streets holding colorful star-shaped lanterns, their laughter echoing alongside lion dances. Families gather to share simple, traditional mooncakes – Bánh Trung Thu – and seasonal fruits, while adults tell tales of the Moon Lady. It was a time of innocence, community spirit, and pure delight for the youngest, fostering a sense of wonder and belonging under the moonlit sky. [III]

However, like many ancient traditions globally, Tết Trung Thu has undergone significant transformations. This child-centric celebration has noticeably expanded into a major commercial event, exemplified by the mooncake's evolution. From humble, home-baked treats, mooncakes have become elaborate, exquisitely packaged luxury items, often featuring expensive ingredients and artistic designs. These high-end mooncakes are now widely marketed as corporate gifts and tokens of appreciation among adults, often commanding premium prices that reflect their newfound status. [IV]

This commercialization presents a fascinating duality. On one hand, it has boosted economic activity, creating new opportunities for businesses and artisans, and increasing the festival's visibility. Yet, questions arise about what might be lost in this transition. The focus can shift from simple joy and communal spirit, especially for children, towards a more consumerist approach. The original charm of handmade lanterns and shared, modest treats sometimes gets overshadowed by lavish gifts, potentially making the festival less accessible or authentic for some families.

For teenagers celebrating Tết Trung Thu, these changes might feel particularly noticeable. The festival remembered from childhood – with simple lanterns and playful lion dances – now seems different, perhaps more about elegant packaging and adult exchanges. This evolution prompts reflection on how traditions adapt. While festivals must evolve to remain relevant, it encourages considering the balance between embracing new facets and preserving the cherished cultural essence that made these celebrations so special, ensuring future generations experience their original magic.