The children gave their new school bags to their friends after the flood.

In the school located in the flood-affected area, I asked, "If I only had one or two gifts for the students in the class, who would feel they needed a new schoolbag the most today?" Almost all the children simultaneously pointed to one student...

The joy of the students after receiving their new school bags - Photo: THUY DIEM

The bus departing Tuy Hoa (formerly Phu Yen province ) at 5 am carried me, a child far from home, through the land of my childhood after days of devastating floods. Gifts from teachers and alumni of Fulbright University had already been sent to schools beforehand so the children could return to class after the floods, but my heart urged me to personally deliver those gifts of love to the children here.

Tiny feet and oversized sandals

That morning, the more than 70km road seemed even longer because of the fresh wounds on the path that had once been connected to my childhood. The ditches were torn apart, the fields were left with only gray mud, and the rooftops still bore the marks of the floodwaters.

Occasionally, I would come across a few vehicles carrying charitable supplies going in the opposite direction. That quiet stream of people warmed my heart, even though the surroundings were still desolate.

The first school in Song Hinh greeted me with the familiar sound of the Monday morning flag-raising ceremony. The school has over 700 students, divided into three branches covering both primary and secondary levels. Hundreds of bright black eyes followed the fluttering red flag, but what made me stop and stare for a long time were the sandals the children were wearing.

Their tiny feet were lost in the oversized sandals, the heels sticking out almost half a handspan at the back. That awkwardness made a mother's heart ache, as I felt the deprivation these children carried with them to school every day.

When interacting with the children, I asked, "If I only had one or two gifts for the class today, who would feel they needed the newest school bag the most?" Almost all the children simultaneously pointed to one of their classmates.

No one was arguing or snatching. These young children were surprisingly understanding, knowing their friends needed more, lacked more, so they naturally yielded to each other without hesitation. That moment brought tears to my eyes. Even in hardship, children in the highlands maintain their kindness instinctively.

One child, clutching a new pen, whispered, "Thank goodness, teacher, my pen just ran out of ink." The words were quiet, but they silenced me and everyone else standing nearby. It turns out that for a child after a flood, sometimes happiness is simply having a pen again to continue writing.

Joy in a child's eyes

The second school in Son Hoa, also located in a mountainous area, broke my heart even more. Many children came to class wearing their home clothes because their uniforms had been swept away by the floodwaters.

The teacher recounted that the uniform tailoring facility near the school was also severely affected, and the teachers had to go around asking for mud-stained clothes, wash them one by one, and then distribute them to the students.

There are few clothes, many students, and if they have a uniform today, they might wear their home clothes tomorrow. In other places, what to wear to school is considered normal, but here it has become a source of worry.

The teachers didn't wear their usual traditional dresses to school; instead, they donned simple clothes and rolled up their trousers to tidy up each desk and chair. The school had just been temporarily cleaned up after the flood; the floors were still damp, and the smell of mud lingered, but the teachers' eyes lit up with joy at seeing their students able to return to class.

When the new schoolbags and notebooks, still smelling of fresh paper, were handed to the children, I saw joy clearly reflected in their eyes. It was a pure, genuine joy that made the adults feel as if they had done something truly kind. The flood may have swept away many things, but it couldn't take away the smiles of the children.

On the bus from Cung Son to Tuy Hoa, I happened to overhear a story from an elderly man, nearly 70 years old. He had traveled all the way from Ho Chi Minh City to the mountainous region of Son Hoa just to find a university friend he had lost contact with for over 20 years.

He didn't have a phone number, an address, or even been there before. But when he heard that your hometown was submerged in floods, he still decided to come. "As long as I know you're safe, I'll be at peace," he said. His story is quiet yet moving, a reminder that human kindness shines brightest in times of hardship.

A warm handshake

As the bus passed through sugarcane fields still stained with mud, I thought about the word "compatriots." The schoolbags, pens, and uniforms, washed clean of mud, were not merely material possessions for children going to school. They represented sharing from countless hearts, a warm handshake amidst the chaos after the flood, and a message that in times of hardship, compatriots always reach out to each other and no one is left behind.

And amidst those losses, the eyes of the children in the highlands that day were so pure, polite, considerate of their friends, and appreciative of every gift, making me believe that the people would soon return to their normal lives. The floodwaters receded, but people's hearts remained full. And from these children after the flood, I saw a season of sowing hope beginning.

Back to the topic

DANG THI THUY DIEM

Source: https://tuoitre.vn/nhung-dua-tre-nhuong-cap-moi-cho-ban-sau-lu-20251211094504617.htm