Vietnamese people love each other.

The rain lashed against our faces, the water reaching our knees, but no one slowed down, only fearing that our fellow villagers would go hungry for another meal. And at that moment, we understood that: even if the signal is lost, Vietnamese people still find each other through compassion, something that never loses its connection...

1. During the days when Central and Central Highlands regions of Vietnam were struggling under the devastating floods, many images circulated on social media that moved millions of Vietnamese people to tears. Beneath the roofs submerged in water, under the flickering flashlights of rescue workers working through the night, under the trucks carrying relief supplies traveling long distances… one thing stood out most clearly: the spirit of brotherhood never wavered. In times of hardship, Vietnamese people reached out to each other, supporting one another, as if by an age-old instinct: as long as there are people, there is hope.

Content creator Le Phong recounts the days he lost contact with his hometown of Dong Hoa, Phu Yen . The feeling of seeing a black screen indicating "no connection" was heartbreaking. Meanwhile, back home, his 91-year-old grandmother calmly prepared, drawing on her lifelong experience in navigating the floodwaters: a ladder tied to the ceiling, styrofoam bags for buoyancy, and pre-cut banana trunks for floats. Then came the moments when the signal died, the electricity went out, and all that remained was the sound of water hitting the corrugated iron walls. But in that darkness, rescue lights illuminated every rooftop. Soldiers, police, and militia waded against the strong current to evacuate people from the deep water.

In the neighborhood, any house that wasn't flooded immediately turned into a "communal kitchen." Some people cooked fish, others prepared hot meals, and still others carried boxes of food to isolated houses. The rain lashed their faces, the water reached their knees, but no one slowed down, only fearing that their neighbors would go hungry for another meal. And at that moment, we understood that: even without a signal, Vietnamese people still find each other through compassion, something that never loses its connection.

In the "People of Phu Yen" (formerly) group, Ms. My Tien's post touched the hearts of many. Each word of thanks, each sincere apology sent to the benefactors who traveled thousands of kilometers into the heart of the flood zone, the truck drivers who stayed up all night, the elderly people who silently wrapped sticky rice cakes, boiled eggs, and carefully saved every kilogram of rice and bottle of water to send to the affected people… is the clearest evidence of the spirit of "mutual support and solidarity."

She recounted that in some places where gifts were distributed, there was pushing and shoving, with people jostling each other out of fear of "not getting any." But instead of blaming them, she bowed her head and apologized on behalf of the people: "That's life, everyone has their own personality." In that moment, compassion truly grew, enough to understand that amidst the raging currents, everyone only wanted to preserve a glimmer of hope for their family.

And she was touched when, even though her own house wasn't flooded, she still received a share of the gifts she had received. A small gift, yet overflowing with kindness. Looking at the bag of rice, the packet of noodles, and the bottled water, she wrote: "I am deeply moved and appreciate these acts of mutual support and compassion." Because each gift is not just food, but a token of human kindness.

That is the meaning of brotherhood: giving not because we need to be remembered, receiving not because we expect anything in return, but because we are Vietnamese, sharing the same roots.

2. On his personal page "Huy Nguyen" (weather expert Nguyen Ngoc Huy), he is known by the community as "the storm and flood chaser," regularly posting warnings at 1-2 AM. For 33 days, he has been closely monitoring the water levels and every change in flood levels in Hue, Quang Nam ( Da Nang ), Binh Dinh (Gia Lai), Phu Yen, etc., almost without sleep. Not because anyone asked him to, but because he knows that every timely warning can save a life.

There were nights when he was so stressed that he trembled, like the night of November 19th, when the Ba River released a historic flood of over 16,000 m³/s. When many places lost power and signal, and hundreds of distress messages poured in, all he could do was reply: "Break through the roof to get out." That's advice that sends chills down one's spine, but sometimes it's the only option.

Friends asked how he managed it. He simply said, "The line between warnings and misinformation is very thin." Therefore, he tried to keep a cool head despite his exhaustion. At times, he wouldn't sleep for 48 hours, turning off his computer for a night to sleep, but would wake up again just a few hours later thinking about the severely damaged schools that needed rebuilding.

Thanks to his tireless efforts and those of many other volunteer groups, over 60 tons of relief supplies from Quang Ngai , Quy Nhon, Nha Trang, and other provinces were delivered directly to the people of Phu Yen immediately after the floods. He expressed his gratitude to many canoe teams who, after four days immersed in floodwaters, had received messages of thanks. Some had caught colds, others had returned home to attend funerals of loved ones… but all did their best for a common cause: for their fellow countrymen.

It also embodies the spirit of brotherhood, the silent sharing between people who are not related but share the same Vietnamese blood.

"Oh gourd, have pity on the pumpkin," "When one horse is sick, the whole herd stops eating," or "Many troubles cover the mirror frame," these ancient folk songs remind us that national solidarity and brotherhood are the roots of Vietnam's strength.

Tens of thousands of officers and soldiers were present in the heart of the flooded area from the very first hours, knocking on every door, wading through every meter of water, carrying every elderly person, and evacuating every child to safety. Amidst the cold rain and muddy water, the colors of soldiers' uniforms, youth union members' green uniforms, and police uniforms shone like warm, bright lights. This was not just a duty; it was humanity. Wherever Vietnamese people are in distress, there is a Vietnamese hand to help.

There are elderly people who personally pack gift bags to send to Central Vietnam. There are students who donate their breakfast money to support their friends in the flood-stricken areas. There are artists and businesspeople who quietly mobilize donations totaling billions of dong. There are convoys of vehicles traveling through the night carrying rice, water, and life jackets. Each action, big or small, contributes a note to the symphony of "compatriot solidarity," a strength that the whole world admires.

The rain and floods will eventually recede. Houses will be rebuilt. Fields and gardens will be green again. But the bonds of compassion will last forever. In times of hardship, people don't ask each other how much wealth they have, but rather, "Are there still people left?", because as long as there are people, as long as there is compassion, everything can begin anew. No matter how devastating the storms may be, as long as there are people, we will rebuild with the love of our fellow countrymen. And when the dark clouds dissipate, the sky after the rain will be clear again, as proof that compassion is always a more powerful light than ever before...

Source: https://baophapluat.vn/nguoi-viet-thuong-nhau.html