Holding a pair of broken sandals, about to throw them away, I heard my father teach me a sentence, I still remember it until now.

On the weekend, my son and I were cleaning up the trash around the house. He picked up a pair of broken flip-flops and was about to throw them in the trash when I raised my hand to stop him. He looked at me in surprise and asked, “Why don’t you throw them away? What can you do with broken flip-flops?” His question reminded me of when I was a kid and asked my dad the exact same question.

At that time, I was about to throw the thin-soled sandals that my father had worn for years into the river that was raging in front of the house. My father's calloused, veined hand quickly grabbed my hand to stop me. I asked him the same question. He kindly replied: "Just put it in a corner of the house. Sometimes, things that seem to be thrown away still have value."

When my friends in the neighborhood came to visit, they burst out laughing in surprise when they saw the broken sandals still being carefully kept by my father. I still stood up to defend the words my father had taught me, even though I and my friends did not understand anything.

Until one day, the summer sun was so hot that it seemed to burn everything. My friends and I climbed a big tree in front of our house to get some fresh air, looking far away at the dry grass that was sunburned and red at the roots. A jingling sound echoed from afar, accompanied by a call: “Whoever has broken sandals, broken pots or pans, please exchange them for ice cream…!”

A man walked through the alleys and approached. My father called him in and offered me a pair of broken sandals in exchange for an ice cream that emitted a cool, smoky mist. Looking at me enjoying the refreshing taste of the fatty, sweet, cold ice cream, the dark eyes of the father from the poor coastal region lit up with happiness.

Seeing that, our friends immediately jumped down the tree as fast as lightning, ransacked every corner of the house to look for broken sandals, hoping that there might be some left. And from that day on, every time we picked up a broken sandal on the roadside or floating in the river, we would treasure it and wait for the ice cream seller to come and exchange it.

Cầm đôi dép đứt định quăng bỏ, nghe cha dạy một câu, tới giờ tôi vẫn nhớ - Ảnh 2. — My father's old slippers helped me exchange for a cool ice cream in the middle of summer. Illustration photo: Lao Dong Newspaper

Since then, I have learned to appreciate everything and not waste it. My father's frugal lifestyle and his poor life in the past have always permeated me.

That lifestyle was also very useful to me in college. Student life was difficult, I collected every penny. Whenever a note was torn, I carefully fixed it with transparent tape, and put all the money I had in a cloth bag in the trunk of my car. It always accompanied me on every trip to school.

One time, my car broke down and I stopped to get it fixed. When I was paying, I realized I had forgotten my wallet. While staring blankly at the shop owner, I suddenly remembered the cloth bag in the trunk. I happily counted it and found nearly 300,000 VND, just enough to pay for the repair.

That day, driving home, I couldn't forget to look up at the blue sky and secretly thought that perhaps in the distant world , my father was always watching and reminding me of that valuable lesson in life.

Young people like my children and grandchildren now have quite a lot to live on, sometimes they even refuse cakes and fruits. The cry of selling broken sandals in exchange for ice cream has also entered my memory. Sometimes broken sandals are given to scrap collectors, but they still refuse. But its spiritual value has never faded in me. My father's words still hold true.

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