1. The church bells rang out sweetly, and Mom sent Tin to the garden to pick chili peppers so Dad would enjoy his meal later. Tin waited until the bells had finished ringing before going, and Mom looked at him with a loving smile. She knew Tin loved listening to the bells.
Ever since Tin was a tiny child, whenever the church bells rang, he would freeze in place, whether playing or even dozing off, to listen. After each chime, he would sometimes grin, saliva dripping down his chin and neck.
Once he could walk, Tin would toddle along with his father to church several times a day. It was during the church bells that his father would ring. The first time Tin saw his father ring the bell, he was very surprised! He watched intently as his father slowly grasped the rope from the base of the bell tower and pulled hard. With each pull, the bell rang out melodiously, like a beautiful piece of music. The sound of the bell held a magical quality for the three-year-old boy.
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Sometimes, Tin's father wouldn't let him go because it was midday and the sun was blazing. The church was only a short distance from Tin's house, but Tin's short, childlike feet seemed to take forever to reach it. His father used crutches, but he walked very quickly.
Once, Tin told his mother that he wished he could walk as fast as his father. His mother stroked his head and said softly, "When you grow up, you will take long strides and walk as fast as your father."
2. When Tin was born, an accident took away his father's legs. During those desperate days, touching his child's innocent hand, he knew he had to get back on his feet. He gave up his previous job that required him to travel, and chose his former side hustle as his main profession: tutoring at home. His students were poor, studious children from the neighborhood.
Outside of teaching hours, my father often visited the church near our house. Sometimes he would pray, sometimes he would bring some leftover food for the birds, or he would swoop down into the churchyard to find food. One time, the parish priest approached where my father was feeding the birds and asked him to help the parish with the church bell, and he readily agreed.
Ba Tin grew up in this place, from the time when the church was just a makeshift thatched hut. Much later, parishioners contributed their labor and bricks to build a spacious church. Ba Tin's childhood was closely associated with this church. Every morning, as the first rays of dawn appeared behind the rows of betel trees, his grandmother would take him to leave with the nun before going to work in the fields, only to pick him up late in the evening.
It was also in this place that Tin's father was taught to play musical instruments, sing, arrange flowers, and write beautifully by the nuns. He spent his entire childhood here, though impoverished, filled with love. As he grew up, many of his peers left their hometown for the city, but Tin's father chose to stay.
Many people hinted, both indirectly and directly, to my father, urging him to move to the city so his children could have a brighter future. They said that in this swampy area, life was the same year-round; how could they ever rise above their circumstances? My father, however, believed there was no better choice, only what suited them. And so he married a woman from this vast, waterlogged region, inextricably linked to the river and its ebb and flow each year. He loved this place.
Therefore, the opportunity to contribute to the church made Tin's father very happy, and he immediately accepted. From then on, Tin's father became the church bell keeper.
Tin was very proud. His kindergarten class was not too far from the church, close enough for the church bells to reach him and his friends. He would excitedly boast, "My dad rang the bells, isn't that great?" But none of the other children responded.
3. In kindergarten today, the teacher asked each child if they had a dream, and what it was. When it was Tin's turn, Tin confidently said, "I want to become a bell ringer like my dad." Loud, unrestrained laughter erupted, along with disapproving glances from the younger children who didn't understand. The kind teacher said, "That's a beautiful dream!"
Then the teacher asked another student. It was Hai – the boy with the fancy car that all the other students envied, bought for him by his father. Hai confidently said, "I want to be a director like my dad." Unexpectedly, from then on, every student the teacher asked said the same thing: "I want to be a director like Hai's dad." Tin felt bewildered and confused. What was so great about being a director? Why didn't anyone want to be a bell ringer like Tin's dad?
That thought followed Tin home. Seeing her son's downcast face, unlike his usual cheerful self, his mother pressed him for an answer. After a while, Tin finally asked, "Why doesn't Dad become a director like Hai's dad, Mom?" His mother was utterly surprised. She turned to see if his father was there and had heard what Tin had said. Luckily, his father was in the garden. She pulled Tin into her arms, trying to figure out the most understandable and persuasive way to explain it to him.
"Tin, being a director is great, but it's a personal preference. When you grow up, you'll have your own interests, no two people are alike." "But my friends say being a director like my dad Hai is much better, because Hai gets lots of fancy toys, nice clothes, and delicious food. I want my dad to be a director too!"
"So, Tin, do you still like listening to the church bells?" "Yes, I do!" "So, if your dad becomes a director, who will ring the church bells?" Tin thought for a moment, then nodded: "Oh right! Then I don't want Dad to be a director anymore." Mom stroked Tin's head: "Everyone gets into different jobs when they grow up. As long as it's a legitimate job, it's something worth doing, my child!"
4. Christmas Day. The churchyard was bustling with activity. In the twinkling colored lights, a tall, strong young man with fair skin, slightly wavy curly hair, and sparkling white glasses strode into the churchyard. From a distance, a woman with graying hair ran towards him. The young man embraced his mother in the middle of the churchyard.
Many eyes turned towards them, smiling as if sharing in their joy. “My little Tin has grown so tall!” The boy loosened his embrace, looking closely at his mother with loving eyes: “I really like it when you call me Tin, just like before.” At this moment, the mother suddenly remembered her son had grown up: “You, you came home without even telling me! I could have prepared your favorite dishes!” “I told you I’d be home for Christmas! Every year!” The mother, small in her son’s arms, tears of happiness welled up.
The young man glanced at the clock on the bell tower. In just a few minutes, the bells would ring, signaling the start of Christmas Mass. He strode gracefully toward the bell tower. It was there that he met the figure of his deceased father. He touched the bell rope and whispered, "Today, I will take your place in this meaningful task, Father."
Each chime of the bells resonated like a prayer for happiness for all and peace for the world !
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