Mother's feet

On days when she wasn't tending the ducks, my mother would go searching for shrimp and fish. She was very good at catching them. When the water in the ditch receded, she would bite the handle of her basket, her hands sweeping back and forth to catch shrimp, prawns, small fish... Even though she toiled tirelessly, running back and forth, doing all sorts of things, it was never enough to feed the four of us siblings, whose mouths were always gaping open, waiting to eat like little birds still in their nest.

My mother's feet were always tied to the fields. During the planting season, she would go wherever she was hired, and during the harvest season, she never refused anyone's call. After the planting and harvesting seasons were over, she would take on any job offered to her, as long as it provided money to buy rice for my siblings and me to eat.

Once, my mother went out to weed for hire. My siblings and I were at home when an aunt from afar came to visit and asked me to call her back. The sun was blazing hot, so I went down to the patch of land where my mother was weeding. There, I found her standing with her back exposed to the sun, bent over, pulling out each blade of grass. I got very close, but she didn't see me. Suddenly, I wanted to call out to her and run to hug her, but for some reason, I just stood there, rooted to the spot, tears streaming down my face…

My grandfather owned a plot of land planted with nipa palms right by the river. They harvested them once a year. The nipa palm leaves were used for roofing. They would cut down the old fronds, tear them apart, and dry them on the spot before bringing them home to use as roofing or wall coverings. The locals called it… torn leaves! To make woven leaves, they would gather the leaves into bundles, transport them home, and use cuttings (from the trunk of the nipa palm) and strips (taken from the young trunk of the nipa palm, also called bamboo) to weave them into individual sheets. My mother would gather the leaves, row the boat home, and weave them herself. In the end, she'd get a few hundred leaves, which she sold to buy clothes and books for my older brother.

And so, the four seasons cycled on. My mother's feet, inextricably linked to muddy soil, alluvial soil, and acidic water… My mother's feet traveled "thousands of miles," but ultimately remained in the impoverished area to raise my siblings and me. Her feet, calloused and cracked from a lifetime of never knowing the scent of nail polish. Her toes, perpetually stained a yellowish-brown from the acidic and salty soils she had walked on. Those toes, though unsightly, were precious to my siblings and me. Because throughout her life, she always took on the hardships herself, so that we could receive the most complete and unconditional love!

TRAN THANH NGHIA

Source: https://www.baotravinh.vn/van-hoa-the-thao/doi-ban-chan-cua-me-36050.html