Báo An Giang•25/04/2026I paused, took the calendar from her tiny hands, and smiled softly: "Tomorrow is Hung Kings' Commemoration Day, my child. It's a day for the whole country to remember the Hung Kings—the first people who contributed to building our nation as we know it today."
The little girl was silent for a moment, her eyes dreamy as if trying to imagine a distant fairyland. Then she looked up again and whispered, "So, Mom, are we going to visit the kings tomorrow?"
The procession of palanquins from communes, wards, and towns in the surrounding areas to the Hung Temple National Special Historical Relic Site. Photo: VNA.
I laughed: "The Hung Temple will be very crowded these days, with everyone coming to light incense and pay their respects. As for us, even though we're far away, as long as we always remember our roots, even the kings would feel warm inside."
The little girl nodded, but her eyes still sparkled with distant thoughts, as if her small soul had just touched something sacred. Children often ask naive questions, but it is this very innocence that sometimes acts like a gentle bell, reminding adults of things that have become so familiar that they have been forgotten.
That evening, after dinner, my daughter and I sat together watching television. The screen was showing a documentary about Hung Temple. Silent lines of people followed one another up the moss-covered stone steps, incense smoke wafted through the mist, and in the distance, the deep green forest embraced the majestic mountains. My daughter fell silent, her round eyes fixed intently on the screen without blinking. Perhaps in her little soul, the fragments of the story I told were gradually blending with the misty images, weaving an invisible thread connecting her to the distant past.
Childhood memories suddenly flooded my mind. Back then, under the eaves of our old house, my grandmother would often whisper stories to me about Father Lac Long Quan, Mother Au Co, and the hundred eggs that hatched into a hundred children. As a child, I thought of it as just a magical fairy tale, but as I grew older, I understood that this legend contained something even more sacred. It's like an invisible thread, silently binding millions of Vietnamese hearts together. Perhaps that's why the Ancestor Commemoration Day always has a very unique flavor. It's not a holiday for fun or excitement, but a necessary moment of quiet amidst the hustle and bustle of life, allowing each person to slow down and turn their hearts towards a common origin.
I also realized that there are sacred values that don't need grand pronouncements, but lie within the fragrant incense, in my grandmother's old stories, or simply in a bright red calendar on the wall. It is these small things that quietly keep the stream of memories flowing uninterrupted. And then, two familiar folk verses resonate in my mind: "No matter where you go, remember the Ancestor Commemoration Day on the tenth day of the third lunar month." These reminders, passed down through generations, make each of us realize that behind us there is always a source to look to, a support to cherish.
When they grow up, these children will tell this story to future generations. That is when the soul of the nation is inherited, like the lifeblood silently flowing through every heartbeat, like rivers yearning to reach the vast ocean.
According to the People's Army
Source: https://baoangiang.com.vn/nho-ve-ngay-gio-to-a483840.html
![[Photo] Prime Minister Le Minh Hung presides over the thematic session on promoting science and technology development and innovation.](https://vphoto.vietnam.vn/thumb/1200x675/vietnam/resource/IMAGE/2026/06/23/1782207872934_ndo_br_dsc-1724-jpg.webp)
