The lamp awakens the season of reunion.

Looking at the warm yellow streetlights at the end of the night, I suddenly felt a touch of the old spring, like the hand of memory gently resting on my shoulder. In the midst of the vast city, that light awakened things that I thought had long been dormant.

These are the types of fruits commonly chosen for offering to ancestors during Tet (Lunar New Year) - Illustration: HOAI PHUONG

A turbulent year is drawing to a close, like the surface of water after a strong wind. The economy has slowed, and natural disasters have swept through rural areas, leaving people's hearts heavy. In my work in communications, I'm caught up in a whirlwind of deadlines and bills, and the more I rush, the more I feel trapped in an invisible vortex.

Last weekend, when I submitted the final plan, it was almost one in the morning. The city felt as light as a breath. I took a short walk to clear my mind; the early morning breeze carried the scent of damp earth and a hint of the last flowers of the season still lingering on the trees.

The pale yellow streetlights cast a soft glow on the dew-covered pavement, stretching my shadow long like a solitary sketch. It had been a long time since I'd remembered the quietness of the streetlights, the silent companions of the city.

They stand still, patiently and persistently, preserving a peaceful space for anyone weary from their journey. It sounds ordinary, but perhaps it is precisely that silence that sustains people the most.

I don't know when it started, but whenever I'm exhausted, I instinctively reach for this small yellow light. And at that very moment, memories from long ago flood back; I remember the old lamp on the porch of my house.

Back then, my family was poor. My father hammered a small wooden beam in front of the porch to hang a weak, yellowish light bulb. The light was only enough to illuminate a small part of the yard, but for a child like me, it was the whole world , with dust clinging to the red earth glistening under that simple golden light.

The scent of dried peppercorns wafting from in front of the house, mingled with the smell of smoke from the neighbor's kitchen, made the border monsoon wind feel strangely warm.

Every evening, after dinner, I and the neighborhood kids would gather under the eaves. Some would read comic books, others would play hacky sack, and still others would busily fold paper airplanes and release them into the air, their wings fluttering, their laughter echoing across the yard.

My father would often sit on the doorstep, leaning against the house pillar, meticulously repairing his old motorbike so he could get to the fields the next morning. My mother would sift through the freshly dried peppercorns, her hands diligently picking out each tiny grain under the lamplight. In the days leading up to Tet (Lunar New Year), the lamps would be lit even earlier due to the busy trading. The yellow light shone on the dew-covered branches of the apricot blossoms, revealing plump, round buds like the eyes of a child, making me so excited that I couldn't sleep.

That light embraced my childhood, bright enough to see the one I loved, yet dim enough to hold the tender secrets of memory. Growing up, I thought I was mature enough not to bother with those little things. But standing in the vast city, under those unfamiliar lights, I suddenly found myself no different from the child I once was, seeking out that small patch of light to lessen my fear of the darkness.

The period leading up to Tet (Lunar New Year) leaves many memories in everyone's mind - Illustration photo: CHI CONG

Adults spend their days burdened with the worries of daily life, financial anxieties, endless meetings, declining health, and the unpredictable changes in their hearts. But memories remain gentle. Home, whether far away or just a few rides, remains an invisible support, softly placing a hand on our backs whenever we are weary.

I stood under the lamp for quite a while, until I realized my eyes were moist, not from sadness, but because my heart suddenly felt lighter. All my worries were still there, but I knew I wasn't entirely alone. Amidst layers of memories, the lamp on the porch still shone, it's just that it had been too long since I'd looked back.

That night, I decided that this Tet holiday I would go back to my hometown earlier. I would sit on the porch with my parents, listening to the insects and the wind rustling through the trees in the garden.

I'll wake up early to go to the market, to hear the lively calls of people. I'll tell my parents that I'm doing well, not because life is going smoothly, but because I still have a place to return to.

The last days of the year flew by. Each time the car dropped me off at the edge of the village, it was already getting dark. From afar, I could see the lamp in front of the house still burning, its familiar yellow light signaling that the season of reunion was drawing near. Dad opened the door, Mom followed. The call, "You're home, my child?" echoed in the cool breeze, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the smoke from someone's newly lit field.

I stood silently. The light shone on my parents' faces, highlighting the wrinkles of time but also illuminating their eyes, filled with a joy I hadn't had the chance to see clearly before. I understood that no matter what happened outside, there would always be a warm light here for me.

I stepped onto the porch, my heart feeling light. And I knew that from now on, whenever I saw the lamp in the dead of night, I would no longer feel lost. Because deep within each person, there is always a small, persistent lamp that illuminates our path, and the path of anyone who needs a light to return to.

We invite readers to participate in the "Springtime Home" writing contest.

As a source of spiritual nourishment during the Lunar New Year season, newspapers Youth Together with our partner, INSEE Cement Company, we continue to invite readers to participate in the "Springtime Home" writing contest to share and introduce your home – your warm and cozy haven, its features, and unforgettable memories.

The house where your grandparents, parents, and you were born and raised; the house you built yourself; the house where you celebrated your first Tet (Lunar New Year) with your small family... all can be submitted to the competition to introduce to readers nationwide.

The article "A Warm Home in Spring" must not have previously participated in any writing competition or been published in any media or social networks. The author is responsible for copyright, and the organizing committee has the right to edit the article when selecting it for publication. Youth They will receive royalties.

The competition will take place from December 1, 2025 to January 15, 2026, and all Vietnamese people, regardless of age or profession, are welcome to participate.

The article "A Warm Home on a Spring Day" in Vietnamese should be a maximum of 1,000 words. Including photos and videos is encouraged (photos and videos taken from social media without copyright will not be accepted). Entries will only be accepted via email; postal mail will not be accepted to avoid loss.

Entries should be sent to the email address maiamngayxuan@tuoitre.com.vn.

Authors must provide their address, phone number, email address, bank account number, and citizen identification number so that the organizers can contact them and send royalties or prizes.

Newspaper staff Youth Family members may participate in the "Springtime Warmth" writing contest but will not be considered for prizes. The organizing committee's decision is final.

The Springtime Shelter Award Ceremony and the Launch of the Youth Spring Special Edition

The judging panel included renowned journalists, cultural figures, and representatives from the press. Youth The judging panel will review the entries that have passed the preliminary round and select winners.

The awards ceremony and launch of the Tuoi Tre Spring special issue are scheduled to be held at Nguyen Van Binh Book Street, Ho Chi Minh City, at the end of January 2026.

Prize:

1st prize: 10 million VND + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue;

1 second prize: 7 million VND + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue;

1 third prize: 5 million VND + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue;

5 consolation prizes: 2 million VND each + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue.

10 Readers' Choice Awards: 1 million VND each + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring Edition.

The voting points are calculated based on interaction with the post, where 1 star = 15 points, 1 heart = 3 points, and 1 like = 2 points.

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TRAN THI PHUONG

Source: https://tuoitre.vn/ngon-den-danh-thuc-mua-doan-vien-20260110171256117.htm