Casual Conversation: The Windows

Across from my house are two apartments that have been vacant for quite some time. Today, one of them unexpectedly lit up. A touch of curiosity kept me sitting quietly, enjoying the breeze and watching the new landlady busy with the curtains.

She hung it up and then took it down again, examining it very carefully. The smell of fresh paint, the sound of fabric rubbing against the window frame, the streaks of afternoon sunlight filtering through the glass… all reminded me of the windows I had passed through in my life.

I've lived in many different places, scattered throughout the bustling city. Each place marked a different stage in my journey of building my life. My first rented room was tiny, with a window even smaller than "tiny," requiring me to stand on tiptoe just to see a sliver of the roof next door. That room witnessed the tears of a young girl leaving home for the first time to embark on her university journey. Every time I looked out that small window, I felt like I saw a world outside, very unfamiliar but full of promise, and it was there that I learned how to stand on my own two feet.

I also haven't forgotten the room near the bus station, damp but spacious. The landlady had a small street vendor's stall. The aroma of porridge and onions wafted into the room through the blue windowpane on the breeze. Every afternoon, I could see her busily setting up her stall and taking care of her child. That diligence and dedication made me believe in the value of quiet but persistent effort.

Then there was another room, with two windows, one downstairs and one upstairs. It was there that I lived completely alone for the first time. Going to school alone, cooking alone, reading alone. I realized that it wasn't necessarily loneliness, but rather a quiet space to understand myself, listen to my soul, and nurture my aspirations.

Perhaps those windows were never just places to look outside, but also mirrors reflecting inward. Every time I stop in front of the window, I see more clearly the changes in myself, from an awkward student to someone building a home.

Today, my house has many large windows that open all the way to the floor. I can lie in bed, wrapped in blankets and pillows, watching the planes fly by each day, and seeing countless raindrops reflecting the sparkling lights. Strangely, I believe that these windows are witnesses to my journey of striving to see wider skies, and also a simple yet meaningful reward for me.

Out there, tens of thousands of different windows silently witness the relentless struggles of millions of people. Some study while working part-time, others balance family responsibilities with overtime work to make ends meet... Not everyone can quickly achieve their dream window of opportunity. It's a long process, a step-by-step search, a little building in a society full of pressure and competition.

They are busy with the daily grind of making a living, but they still find time for small joys. They place a beautiful flower in a blue ceramic vase, letting the delicate pink of the peony and the white and yellow of the daisy radiate by the window. Even as the days rush by, they patiently tend to their succulent plants basking in the sun on the wooden platform, just as they cherish their own dreams.

May each of us, in the years to come, by the window of our own happiness, be able to find peace and tranquility, leisurely and carefree, enjoying the refreshing skies. And whether that window is small or large today, remember that every effort expands the horizon we have, and every step brings us closer to a better version of ourselves.

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-nhung-o-cua-so-185251122173417458.htm