The blue bicycle

BPO - I remember that morning vividly, when I was 12 years old. I woke up after a good night's sleep in my mother's arms. My father woke me up earlier than usual, and my mother had already fried a pan of golden-brown rice in the kitchen, waiting for me to come down and eat before going to school. My father whistled loudly, winked, and said, "Guess what new treat I've made for you today, my 'sweetheart'?"

Then Dad gestured for me to be quiet and wait… I’ll probably never forget the look of joy and happiness in his eyes at that moment. Then, when Dad brought a bicycle from the backyard, I stared in disbelief, not recognizing it as the rickety old bike I used to ride to school. Dad had painted the entire bike blue, a sky-blue. He painted every spoke, every brake lever, everything blue. He patted the seat proudly:

- This is Dad's artwork, you know. Last night, while my darling daughter was asleep, Dad stayed up to repaint it so you could ride to school this morning. My daughter would look so cool riding this bike! Look, the paint's already dry.

In contrast to my father's cheerful expression, my face fell. I was shocked that he could make an already ugly bike even uglier. It was unrecognizable; it looked more like a moving block of blue. At that moment, I just wanted to cry out of anger. I said, "I'm going to get revenge, Dad! I'm not riding that ugly bike to school!" The joy in my father's eyes shattered…

More than 10 years have passed, filled with the ups and downs of life, but I still vividly remember that morning. I rode my blue bicycle to school, afraid to look up at my friends, fearing they would gang up on me and tease me. All the way to school, I was consumed by a gnawing fear that made my heart ache. I imagined that every gaze directed at me at that moment was meant to mock and ridicule me. Therefore, that school day was pure torture. I tried my best to avoid eye contact with the bicycle parked under the banyan tree. I just hoped it would be stolen so I wouldn't have to see everyone huddled together discussing it. At that moment, I thought I'd rather walk five kilometers home in the scorching sun than sit on that bicycle.

Finally, the grueling school day was over. Dad was waiting for me at the gate as usual, though he seemed sad. After helping me park my bike, he said:

- Go to the well, son, and let Dad fetch water for you to wash your face before coming in for dinner. The whole family is still waiting.

Dad wasn't laughing and talking as usual. He occasionally sighed during the meal. He put more food on my plate than usual, even though I didn't look up once throughout the meal. I knew he silently watched his little daughter eat many times. At the end of the meal, I mustered up the courage to tell my parents:

- I'm definitely not going to ride that bike to school tomorrow. It looks so ugly and run-down. I don't want to be laughed at.

It wasn't until much later, when I was older, that I realized it was the cruelest thing I'd ever heard, and it haunted me. I still vividly remember my father leaving his bowl of rice unfinished and getting up. I heard his sigh, but he still smiled and said, "Eat your fill and rest, son. Tomorrow you'll have another bike to ride to school. I promise." That day, he silently went in and out of the house alone, like a shadow. The next morning, the first thing I saw was my father's gentle smile. He was standing beside my bicycle, which was now in pristine condition. That morning, I rode to school singing... Little did I know that my father had stayed up all night meticulously scraping off layers of paint from the bicycle, until not a single trace of the blue paint remained.

The old bicycle that my parents bought for me to ride to school, bought with the money they saved from selling rice, is still parked in the corner of the kitchen. Sometimes I sit for hours beside it, trying to find any trace of that sky-blue color from those days. But I know that my thoughtless words back then caused my father to spend the whole night meticulously scraping away the blue of love, hope, and expectation. That very sky-blue color later inspired me to reach for the distant horizon, to spread my wings and fly far with my dreams. And everything I have today began with that loving blue that I carelessly rejected. Sometimes, amidst the bustling crowds, I suddenly encounter such a peaceful blue. And I remember so well, my father who toiled his whole life for me.

In my dreams, I see myself riding my sky-blue bicycle, singing loudly on the road to school, which is overgrown with wildflowers…

Hello, dear viewers! Season 4, themed "Father," officially launches on December 27, 2024, across four media platforms and digital infrastructures of Binh Phuoc Radio and Television and Newspaper (BPTV), promising to bring to the public the wonderful values ​​of sacred and beautiful fatherly love.
Please send your touching stories about fathers to BPTV by writing articles, personal reflections, poems, essays, video clips, songs (with audio recordings), etc., via email to chaonheyeuthuongbptv@gmail.com, Editorial Secretariat, Binh Phuoc Radio and Television and Newspaper Station, 228 Tran Hung Dao Street, Tan Phu Ward, Dong Xoai City, Binh Phuoc Province, phone number: 0271.3870403. The deadline for submissions is August 30, 2025.
High-quality articles will be published and shared widely, with payment for their contributions, and prizes will be awarded upon completion of the project, including one grand prize and ten outstanding prizes.
Let's continue writing the story of fathers with "Hello, My Love" Season 4, so that stories about fathers can spread and touch everyone's hearts!

Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/19/172770/chiec-xe-dap-mau-xanh-da-troi