My family was not well-off at that time, even poor, with the four walls of the house made of planks and the floor made of red soil. People in the house or visitors wore slippers to avoid getting dirty. My parents worked hard all year round in the rice fields, coffee plantations, and then worked hard with all kinds of hired jobs to earn a living. Yet those difficulties did not deter my father from helping others.
In the scorching heat of noon, I was sitting on the steps plucking out my father's grey hair when suddenly I heard the sound of a stick clacking from the end of the alley. My father squinted his eyes slightly towards the sunlit road, then called me to quickly go into the house to get a can of rice to give to the blind old man who often begged in the neighborhood. Waiting for the old man's thin figure to disappear at the top of the hill after bowing his head in gratitude, my father affectionately stroked my head, his voice warm: "My daughter, always remember "The good leaves cover the torn leaves", okay?"
On another rainy night, when the whole family was fast asleep, suddenly from outside the door, the sound of a black dog barking was heard. Immediately after that, there were urgent knocks on the door. The neighbor Uncle Tu ran over, soaked, in a panic, asking my father to help pull the tractor that was stuck deep in the field. My father hurriedly put on his faded shirt, grabbed a flashlight, a chain, and started the tractor to take Uncle Tu along. Although my mother grumbled that my father had left the house in the middle of the night, she still managed to make a pot of hot tea for my father to drink to warm himself up. My mother said that was my father's personality, whenever he heard that someone had a broken vehicle or was stuck in the mud in the field, he was ready to help regardless of day or night. In my fitful sleep, I could still feel my mother's restlessness through the soft sound of her turning over. It was not until dawn, when my father returned, covered in mud, that the anxiety disappeared from my mother's face. Although his face was clearly tired after a sleepless night, when he sat down to eat, his eyes lit up with joy as he told about the journey of struggling through the mud to pull Uncle Tu's tractor to the shore. He said that love is important for people to live together. Especially in the farming profession, which has been around the fields for many years, he would help anyone he could with all his heart, because he understood that growing rice and coffee beans was not easy.
The way my father showed his love was also the way he often helped dig graves for the deceased. Some people suggested that doing these things was hard and could easily bring bad luck because the deceased carried a lot of negative energy. But he quietly ignored them, without even thinking about it, he used his own money to buy measuring tapes, hoes, shovels, and even sturdy iron stakes to ensure the grave digging job was done properly. Whenever he heard that someone had passed away, regardless of whether it was when the morning dew was still hanging or when it was late at night, he would quickly pack up his tools and go to the funeral. Only when the deceased's coffin was placed neatly in the ground could he return home with peace of mind. I still remember when I was in high school, a relative died of old age. Even though that person had caused my family to fall into a deadlock. However, my father still picked up the tools and dug the grave without mentioning the past. When someone couldn't help but wonder why people treated him so badly, he still wholeheartedly helped. Ba Chi slightly frowned and looked into the distance, then slowly said: "A duty to a dead person is a duty to the end. When someone has passed away, it is only right to send them off on their final journey."
Until now, seeing my father still busy with the "home-cooked meals and the village's daily chores" makes me feel warm. Like when he hurriedly took the injured to the emergency room at night, when he silently dug graves under the pitying gazes of the world, or even when he did not mind getting dirty with mud to pull the cart to help the neighbors. Witnessing those things from childhood until now, I understand that it was my father's joy because he always lived with a warm and sincere heart. And more than all the things he did, it was the priceless lesson of compassion and sharing that he silently planted in my heart.
Hello love, season 4, theme "Father" officially launched from December 27, 2024 on four types of press and digital infrastructure of Radio - Television and Binh Phuoc Newspaper (BPTV), promising to bring to the public the wonderful values of sacred and noble fatherly love. |
Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/19/171955/nguoi-vac-tu-va-hang-tong
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