Never give up hope...

Illustration by Le Hai Anh

Bong buried her face in her mother's long black hair, humming softly. Xuyen kissed her daughter's face, drawing on her sweet energy to begin another long, tiring day filled with worries. She gently massaged Bong's arms and legs, whispering, "Today, Bong, you have to be good at the hospital for leg exercises. Don't cry too much and tire Grandma out. Mommy will buy you some cream puffs tonight!" Bong snuggled into her mother's arms and nodded softly. Suddenly, the alarm clock blared loudly in the boarding house. As Xuyen opened the door, she saw a bag of fruit hanging outside. It must have been the weekend; the neighbors had gone back to their hometowns and given Bong some early-season lychees and a few crooked but ripe, fragrant mangoes.

Sometimes early in the morning, sometimes late in the afternoon, small gifts would often be hung in front of the house like that. Xuyen held the bunch of fruit in her hand, feeling as if she were holding a handful of the scorching May sunshine in her hometown garden, as if she could hear the cuckoo calling its mate on a summer afternoon. Xuyen turned to look at her elderly mother sitting and tying her granddaughter's hair, and her eyes welled up with tears. How long had it been since her mother had been home? Surely she missed her hometown very much. At her age, she should be enjoying her old age. But because of her children and grandchildren, she had to leave her hometown and come to the city, living in this cramped rented room for several years now. Xuyen was lost in thought when she heard her mother urging: "If you have laundry or vegetables to wash, do it quickly, or the whole neighborhood will wake up and there won't be any space. Everyone is in a hurry to go to work." From outside the gate, the cries of "Sticky rice with shredded chicken, steamed buns!" drifted in...

The boarding house has twelve rooms, divided into two rows facing each other. In the middle is a shared courtyard where the landlord grows a trellis of passion fruit laden with fruit. The entire boarding house shares a single toilet at the end of the row. The tenants here are all manual laborers. Some sell goods at the wholesale market, others are construction workers, scrap dealers, and a few are factory workers in a large industrial zone in the suburbs. Each person comes from a different hometown and has a different background, but they are all poor, so they get along well. In all the years she's lived here, Xuyen has never seen anyone raise their voice at anyone; everyone is considerate of each other. Motorcycles are always turned off at the gate and quietly wheeled inside so that those working shifts don't disturb their sleep. There's no sound of footsteps during lunchtime. Meals and singing usually end early. Here, people care for each other, from a bowl of porridge when someone is sick to helping out when someone is in need. Many days, returning home after work and seeing her child sleeping peacefully in the neighbor's arms, she silently thanks life so much.

Xuyen's daughter suffered cerebral palsy after a traffic accident. She's seven years old, and despite years of treatment, Bong still can't walk. Xuyen's hometown is poor, but hard work in the fields ensures they don't go hungry. If it weren't for their daughter's medical treatment, Xuyen and her husband wouldn't have moved to the city with their elderly mother. This rented room is far from their workplace but close to the hospital, convenient for their daughter's treatment. Later, as Xuyen jostled through the crowds to get to work, her husband returned home after a long night's work. He only had time to shower and quickly eat a handful of sticky rice before he and his mother took little Bong to the rehabilitation center. For years, he felt utterly exhausted. But seeing his daughter's innocent, carefree smile, he wouldn't allow himself to give up. He envisioned the day soon when little Bong would walk on her own two feet. Bong running in the village yard, chasing the golden-feathered chicks chirping. Bong would smile...

My company has been requiring overtime a lot lately. I'll probably be home late in the evenings. If you're working as a motorbike taxi driver, please try to come home early to help take care of Bong so Mom can prepare dinner. Just eat first at home, don't wait for me.

- It's alright, if there are guests, just take the opportunity to run errands. Mom can help out at home with the neighbors. Cooking the meal will be done in no time.

Mrs. Sau was always busy, nimbly chopping vegetables. She hardly ever rested. She only took her grandchild to the hospital, but as soon as she got back to the boarding house, she would look after the child while pickling vegetables to sell. Pickled onions, pickled shallots, pickled cabbage – she had them every day. She set up a wooden table right at the entrance to the boarding house, placing several jars of pickles there, along with some vermicelli, dried bamboo shoots, peanuts, beans… all things sent from her hometown to earn a little extra money. Those things were readily available at the market, but people still stopped by to support her and her grandchild. On busy days, she couldn't keep up with the demand. Xuyen and her husband felt sorry for their mother's hard work and often advised her not to overexert herself. She would laugh and say, "If I didn't sell things, I'd probably get sick just sitting around. Sitting at the gate, with people buying and selling, and chatting, it's less lonely." Her customers were mostly poor laborers living in the surrounding boarding houses. They always lingered, sharing stories from their hometowns, cuddling little Bong, and encouraging her to keep going. Sometimes, they would pull out from their worker's jacket pockets not just the loose change for the pickled vegetables, but also a lollipop, a pretty little hair clip, or a few ripe fruits to save for little Bong.

- Oh, my dear Bong, you have new shoes today? Those pink shoes are so pretty!

"Yes. My mother had to order new shoes for me to learn to walk in, ma'am," Mrs. Sau replied affectionately.

Instead of my grandson.

- Bong is doing so well, she's sitting so still now. Her arms and legs are much more flexible. She'll be able to walk around soon!

Right, ma'am?

- It still requires a lot of perseverance, miss. Every day I go to stretching exercises, I cry my eyes out. It's so tough! But as soon as I get back to my dorm, I'm cheerful again.

Of course I'm happy, because Bống is so loved by everyone. Every day, Ms. Hạnh rushes over to pinch Bống's cheeks and tickle her as soon as she gets home from work and puts down her motorbike. Ms. Hà is skillful with her hands and has a sweet tongue; Bống lets her massage her arms and legs every day. Ms. Thảo has a mini sewing machine, and whenever she finds a nice piece of fabric, she sews clothes for Bống to wear. Sometimes, when she's busy, the women in the boarding house help each other bathe and clean Bống, and feed her. Xuyên often comes home late from working overtime. On weekends, she does hourly house cleaning for several regular clients. After her shift, her husband often works as a motorbike taxi driver to earn extra money for medicine and treatment for their child. Without the neighbors, the two of them would struggle to make ends meet at home. Xuyên even considered finding a more spacious room. But her mother-in-law said:

- Even a tree that's planted here feels attached to the land, let alone a person. Having lived here for so many years, and being so close to everyone, I'm sure Bong would be very sad if we had to move.

- I don't want to leave either, Mom. Here, little Bong feels like she has many more mothers. But it's so cramped, and we feel awkward letting you sleep in someone else's room.

"Oh, don't be shy. Just let her sleep over. I live alone, and having her to sleep with and chat with will make me less lonely. I probably wouldn't be able to sleep without her. Renting a bigger room would cost a lot of money each month. You should save that money for Bong," the kind neighbor, who was hanging clothes on the porch, called out.

Ms. Ha also added her comments:

- But do you think moving to a new rented place is easy? Sometimes, changing places can cause so much disruption to life. And Grandma! Who knows if there will be places selling pickles, sauces, and condiments like this in another place, right?

Yes! And who knows when the grandmother and grandchildren will see each other again.

Just mentioning that made Mrs. Sau's eyes well up with tears. She still vividly remembers the first day she came here to rent a room. Every greeting felt familiar; the conversation between people from the countryside felt so close. Someone helped move her belongings. Someone comforted little Bong, who was struggling and crying. Someone cooked a feast for the whole neighborhood to welcome their new neighbor. It's been over four years since then. The journey of fighting cerebral palsy with little Bong still lies ahead, full of difficulties. Every positive change in Bong's condition has come at the cost of perseverance, pain, and countless tears over all those years. She remembers every hand reaching out to embrace her poor, precious grandchild. She remembers the radiant smiles of everyone when Bong learned to sit and grasp objects more easily. She remembers the happy eyes when Bong greeted her aunt and uncle, and when her affectionate calls of "grandma" and "mom" became clear and distinct. I remember when Bong was sick, how her hands would be placed on her forehead to check for a high fever. A glass of orange juice. A loving hug. A few heartfelt words of encouragement were enough to make her strong. For her children and grandchildren, she had to leave her hometown, her yard, her kitchen. Like an old tree uprooted from its familiar garden, it took so much effort to take root in a strange land. Now, having to move again, Mrs. Sau couldn't bear it.

- Why would we move? We have to stay here so that the aunts and uncles can still see the day Bong took her first steps. Right, Bong? So, who do you love most in the world?

- I love Mom. I love Dad. I love Grandma.

- So, who else is Bong in love with?

- I love Ms. Hanh, Ms. Ha, and Ms. Thao.

- Oh my goodness, look how clever my grandchild is! Soon he'll be able to walk and run.

Bong's smile was wide and sweet, like cotton candy. Many days, working overtime, standing for ten hours straight, her whole body aching and exhausted, Xuyen would think of her daughter's innocent smile. She knew her husband felt the same way, thinking of their child to get through all the hardships. So that one day, soon, Bong would lean on the hands of those she loved and stand up, taking her first tentative steps on the long and wide road of life. Xuyen was grateful to the poor laborers in this small neighborhood. Strangers became friends, distant people became close. Grateful because they had become a sweet part of the memories of an underprivileged child. Grateful because when they thought about Bong's future, they all never stopped hoping...

Short stories by Vu Thi Huyen Trang

Source: https://baothanhhoa.vn/khong-ngung-nbsp-hy-vong-288075.htm