Like a falling leaf

A view of the 2019 Collaborator Conference. Photo: Phuong Thao

Throughout the 28 years of Quang Nam Newspaper, I was fortunate to be a part of it for six years. But in fact, I've been connected to the newspaper for much longer than that.

Those were the days when I was nine or ten, on a peaceful summer afternoon, watching my father intently scrutinizing the local newspaper filled me with curiosity and wonder. I don't remember exactly what interesting news articles I read for him during those innocent years, but a vague wish began to sprout in my heart.

Then, fifteen years later, my first article was accepted by the Quang Nam newspaper. Even after all this time, the joy of that day will remain intact. Being in a distant southern city, thousands of kilometers away, seeing my words appear in my hometown newspaper felt like I had returned home.

Knowing that far away, relatives, loved ones, and acquaintances have all "seen" me. Seeing my name is like meeting a person, reading the newspaper is like seeing my homeland. Quang Nam Newspaper is a bridge connecting two shores of longing, a place to hold onto old memories, a place to follow the changes in my hometown, and a steadfast source of love and faith in the hearts of those who are far from home.

How precious those times the ladies at the editorial office sent me images of articles and shared their thoughts, offering guidance on writing techniques, topic selection, and content. Sometimes it was a late-night text message, other times we chatted via email, and sometimes we even spoke in person. All those heartfelt words were filled with love.

Then, upon my return, I attended a meeting with the contributors, meeting many of the staff members – the people who had nurtured the clumsy writing of a young child just beginning to dream. The meeting was so warm and friendly, it felt like I was part of the family. I listened to their sharing, encouragement, and sincere feedback. I laughed heartily, spoke honestly, and even received… gifts to take home.

That day, Mr. Nguyen Huu Dong, the Deputy Editor-in-Chief, patted me on the shoulder and said something that felt both strange and familiar. It was a vague feeling. It wasn't until the third sentence that I was truly astonished. It was a surprise! And I quickly tried to hide my embarrassment. I myself had even forgotten my own "intellectual offspring," yet he remembered every single naive sentence in a tiny article. That's when I truly understood the dedication of journalists, those who "hold the scales of justice" at a prestigious newsroom. Along with the feeling of happiness at being remembered, I was also deeply moved and grateful. It will forever remain one of the most beautiful memories in my arduous literary journey.

Amidst the still-warm feelings of love, separation arrived like a gust of wind, swift and decisive. It wasn't just a farewell to a newspaper, but also a farewell to a brilliant period of life, a period of love to which one had given their all. Both those staying and those leaving felt an overwhelming sense of loss. Even so, everyone agreed that they had to accept the parting. The good times they had shared, the path they had walked together, would become eternal memories for both of them.

Because of the unwavering affection and the long-preparedness, the farewell felt as light as a falling leaf. Yet, my heart was heavy with unspoken feelings. Is there any leaf that falls without the branch feeling sorrow and regret? Well, so be it…

Because, it seems everyone understands, no matter what wind blows, the leaves will eventually fall back to their roots, waiting for a day of rebirth in a new life. Saying goodbye today is so that we may meet again tomorrow, in the same place we once cherished so deeply.

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/nhu-chiec-la-roi-3199967.html