Do you remember, Ha?

That summer, the flamboyant tree was not just a flower, but a witness to a pure, innocent, and carefree friendship, filled only with infectious laughter and tight handshakes.

As summer arrives, the sunlight bathes each flower petal in gold, painting the sky a vibrant red with longing. Oh, flamboyant tree, why do you burn so brightly amidst this season of farewells, etching into the hearts of graduating students an unceasing sense of sorrow? That month is not just a transitional moment between seasons, but also the sound that heralds the end of a school journey filled with unforgettable memories.

My beloved school, where countless mischievous and foolish antics were recorded. My respected teachers, their warm voices still echoing in my ears. And my close friends, their radiant faces now scattered across the world. All of it, like an old film reel, vividly and painfully replayed, rushes back, haunting my mind. Though many seasons of blooming flamboyant trees have faded, those sweet and profound echoes still linger, stirring a restless longing in my heart.

I remember, oh summer, I remember with a pang of longing those sweltering May afternoons. The heat was scorching, yet we all hid from our naps, huddled under the gnarled branches of the old flame tree. The cicadas' incessant chirping seemed to deliberately lull us into a deep slumber, but how could they drown out the mischievousness and the burning desire for exploration of those seventeen-year-olds, ready to break any buffalo's horns?

We shared sips of cool water, sweet ice cream cones, sketching out lofty dreams and far-fetched plans, as if we held the entire future in our hands. The red blossoms of the flamboyant tree gently fell on our notebooks, unintentionally imprinting hurried handwriting and naive promises about a tomorrow when we would conquer the peak together.

A corner of the schoolyard.

That summer, the flamboyant tree was not just a flower, but a witness to a pure, innocent, and selfless friendship, devoid of any ulterior motives, filled only with infectious laughter and firm handshakes.

Then the summer of the final year arrived. The last classes were heavy with emotions that were difficult to name. The teachers' voices choked with emotion, trembling as they delivered heartfelt words, their eyes shining with hope and nostalgia.

We, once mischievous children, suddenly fell silent, each glance seemingly wanting to engrave every moment. Tight, suffocating hugs, choked-up farewells, hot tears streaming down our cheeks.

That summer, the red blossoms of the flamboyant tree burned like a fire, igniting regrets and deep feelings for the school, for the teachers, and for the friends. That red color is now tinged with a lingering sadness.

Time flows relentlessly. Each summer brings another milestone of maturity, but also deepens the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia.

We are all in different places, busy with the worries of life. But no matter where we are, just a glimpse of the vibrant red of the flamboyant tree blossoms fills my heart with a deep, poignant longing for the familiar faces of yesteryear.

I remember the familiar paths we walked to school together, the late nights we stayed up solving difficult math problems, the sweet and bitter moments we shared during our innocent school days. Summer, no matter how many seasons of red flamboyant flowers have passed since we last saw each other, the invisible thread of our friendship still silently connects us, even if sometimes it's just a hurried text message or a brief phone call.

And how could I forget the image of those dedicated teachers, like second parents? Under the shade of the flamboyant trees, they nurtured and gave wings to our young dreams, allowing them to soar high and far.

Their lectures were not just dry academic knowledge, but also heartfelt guidance, and eyes filled with affection and compassion. They not only imparted literacy but also shaped moral character.

Each falling red phoenix flower petal is like a silent tribute, a profound expression of gratitude to the unsung heroes who have carried generations of students across the river of life. Oh, summer, after so many seasons of red phoenix flowers without us, do our teachers still remember those mischievous students who perhaps caused them quite a bit of trouble?

There are summers when I return, trying to cling to the lingering echoes of the past. The flame trees still stand tall, the cicadas still chirp familiarly, but the schoolyard is eerily silent, lacking the laughter and playful banter of a bygone era.

Meeting my former teachers again, their hair had turned even whiter, but their eyes still shone with the same warmth and affection. The firm handshakes and kind words soothed my longing, making me feel even more deeply the sacredness of the teacher-student relationship, a bond that will never fade despite the harsh passage of time.

Summer, how many seasons of red flamboyant flowers have passed since we parted? Does anyone still remember? Although each of us has our own life, with its own worries and concerns, the memories of the beautiful teacher-student relationship and the pure friendship under the old school roof will always be precious treasures that will accompany me throughout my life.

The vibrant red of the flamboyant tree each summer remains an invisible thread connecting the past and the present, reminding each person of genuine feelings and enduring spiritual values.

This summer, the flamboyant trees still silently blaze red across a corner of the sky. I stand here, amidst the hurried flow of life, my heart overflowing with profound gratitude. Thank you, summer, thank you to the teachers and friends who helped me create beautiful memories, indelible imprints of my school days.

No matter how many more seasons of blooming flamboyant trees we are apart, our friendship and the bond between teacher and student will forever remain invaluable spiritual values, precious assets that will accompany me throughout my long journey ahead.

Mai Thao

Source: https://baotayninh.vn/ha-oi-co-nho-a191308.html