School years

Someone once said that summer is the season of farewells. The pages of yearbooks began to be passed around under the chirping of cicadas calling for summer. Hugs and tears fell silently as the graduation day approached. In that moment, the royal poinciana flowers were like silent witnesses to countless unnamed emotions of student life.

I still remember clearly the afternoons at the end of grade 12, the whole class sat together in the school yard, under the canopy of old royal poinciana trees. The red petals fell on our hair, on our shoulders, as gently as fleeting memories. Teachers still talked and laughed, friends still chattered, but everyone understood that our time together was gradually coming to an end. Each fallen royal poinciana petal was like a farewell.

Royal poinciana is not only a flower but also a memory, an image associated with the most beautiful years of one's life. Under that royal poinciana tree, it could be the place where we once secretly loved a classmate; the place where our hearts first fluttered when we caught a glance; the place where hastily written letters were hidden under the desk; the place where we once failed, were angry, and then laughed as if nothing had happened.

Perhaps that is why the Royal Poinciana is called “student flower”. Not because it blooms during exam season, but because it carries within it the soul of youth. A pure soul, full of enthusiasm and dreams. The way the flower blooms brightly across the sky, despite the harsh sunlight and early summer rains, is like the youth living life to the fullest.

The day I left school, I brought a small bunch of royal poinciana flowers, pressed them into my notebook as if I wanted to preserve the beautiful memories of my student days. Over time, the notebook pages turned yellow, and the petals faded. However, the memories of my student days never faded. Every time I saw the red royal poinciana flowers, my heart fluttered as if I had returned to the old schoolyard - where there was cheerful laughter, the first glance that moved me, and feelings that I had not yet had time to express in words.

I have asked many friends what they remember most about their school days. Absolutely no one talked about their grades or exams, but only about the memories they spent together. Some talked about the rainy days when they still stood under the porch waiting for their friends, others recalled the afternoon when they skipped school to eat sweet soup, and some remembered a look that they never dared to call out.

And especially, everyone mentions the royal poinciana flower as an indispensable part of their memories. Perhaps, when we were young, we did not fully understand the meaning of a falling petal. But when we grow up, we realize that: there are things that only come once, then go forever. School age is the same, fragile, beautiful and never to return.

So, dear students, cherish every day you can sit under the school roof, watch the royal poinciana flowers bloom, and hear the cicadas calling for summer. Because one day, you will miss those days, miss the gentle yet profound feeling, the innocent yet lingering feeling that touches your heart...

Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/nam-thang-hoc-tro-post323852.html