That day, the family meal was warmer than usual. The whole family gathered around the table, children and grandchildren chattering excitedly. The meal wasn't overly elaborate, just familiar dishes my mother used to cook, but everyone seemed to enjoy it more than usual, their hearts filled with joy and pride. We raised our teacups as a toast to Dad. Meanwhile, the younger children were endlessly curious, asking one question after another.
My little daughter, who is only five years old, looked at him with wide, innocent eyes and asked, "Grandpa, is it because you're a good student that you received this certificate?"
After hearing that, my whole family burst into laughter at the innocent question. My father stroked the little girl's soft hair, smiling kindly without immediately answering. At that moment, my older grandson, who is in ninth grade this year, maturely asked another question: "Grandpa, when you were in the army, during the resistance war, were you scared?"
The question caused a moment of silence in the room. My father set down his teacup, his gaze seemingly fixed on some distant point. He began to tell his story, his voice slow and profound: “Of course, everyone was afraid. Afraid of bombs falling and bullets flying, afraid of those nights marching through the deep jungle, not knowing if we would survive the next day. But that fear could never outweigh love for the homeland and responsibility to my comrades. Every time I thought of my hometown, my family, and the red flag with the yellow star flying high in the sky, I felt my heart grow stronger. The fear receded, giving way to determination. It was during those days that I learned what comradeship means, what it means to put the interests of the country above one's own.”
Dad paused, his eyes reddening slightly. I knew that a flood of memories from a time of war had just resurfaced in him. The whole family fell silent, listening. The younger grandchildren couldn't fully understand, but the image of him in his military uniform, holding a gun on the battlefield, would surely be etched in their minds.
After telling his story, my father smiled kindly and turned to his grandchildren: "This badge is not like a certificate of merit at school. It's a symbol of faith, responsibility, and a lifetime of dedication to an ideal. I received it today thanks to the sacrifices of countless comrades and fellow soldiers, not just because of myself."
Listening to my father speak, my eyes welled up with tears. I suddenly remembered all the times he told stories about his comrades who had fallen on the battlefield, about the nights of marching through the jungle, about the hurried meals of dried cassava roots. Perhaps those memories are a lifelong scar that my father always cherishes, and he will never forget to honor his fallen comrades.
Then my father mentioned September 2nd with a voice full of pride: "National Day on September 2nd is not only the day of the birth of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, but also a day for us to remember and be grateful to the generations of our ancestors who sacrificed so that their descendants today can live in peace and independence."
The whole family nodded in agreement. That meal, everyone seemed to slow down, as if absorbing every word my father said. I looked around and saw that our house was now spacious and comfortable, our lives were fulfilling, and all our children and grandchildren were receiving a good education. All these simple things were achieved thanks to the great sacrifices of our forefathers – including my father.
I secretly thought to myself, being the child of a soldier, a Party member with 50 years of Party membership, is both a source of pride and a great responsibility. We no longer have to carry guns to the battlefield, but we must still live worthy lives, appreciating and preserving what our ancestors sacrificed their blood and flesh for.
This year's National Day will forever be a special memory for me. Because amidst the joy of the nation, I also have my own family happiness: seeing my father honored, seeing his children and grandchildren gathered around him, and seeing old stories being recounted once again, filling us with even more pride and gratitude.
Ha Linh
Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/van-hoa/202509/bo-la-niem-tu-hao-cua-con-a49174a/
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