For Ms. Phuong, a good art program is more complete when familiar faces are seated together in the audience, listening, enjoying, and leaving happy together.
Therefore, whenever an event is organized and an invitation is given, Ms. Phuong invites many others to go along. She carefully calls each person to ask if they can arrange their time to attend. Only those who agree do she register for an invitation. She advises: "Don't let the invitation go to waste. If you can't go, give the opportunity to someone else."
That time, the province organized an elaborate art program, bringing together many dedicated artists. Ms. Phuong excitedly sent out the announcement to her group of friends, and in less than a day, many people had registered to attend. The messages in the group were buzzing with activity:
- I'll definitely go, it's such a great show.
- Let's go even in the rain and cold, everyone!
- Let's take a group photo before going into the theater...
Ms. Phuong carefully recorded the names on the list, assigned seats, and counted the invitations repeatedly. She messaged the group: "I'll be waiting for everyone in the lobby outside the theater. Remember to arrive a little early so we can chat!!!"
Then the evening art performance arrived. Since the afternoon, it had been drizzling, and a biting north wind was blowing. The cold was persistent and deeply penetrating. I hesitated a little, but still cooked dinner early, preparing for the performance.
I arrived at the performance venue 30 minutes early and saw Mrs. Phuong standing under the theater's awning, clutching a stack of invitations carefully wrapped in a plastic bag. The yellow light shone down on the wet cement courtyard, making her look tiny in the vast space.
Initially, a few friends showed up. Mrs. Phuong was delighted, handing out invitations, chatting and laughing merrily. But then the rain intensified. Time passed, and the familiar names on the list still hadn't appeared.
I noticed Ms. Phuong occasionally glancing at her watch, looking out at the street, and checking her phone. There was no call to inform me of her absence, no apology message. Just her absence, her silence, and her coldness.
I understand your feelings right now. Surely, you don't regret the effort you put into getting invitations and calling everyone individually, but rather the sadness that your enthusiasm wasn't reciprocated; the regret of having "taken" away the opportunity to experience someone else's culture; the reproach for someone who carelessly disregarded their promise and belittled the efforts of their friends…
When it was time for the show to begin, the ticket checker gently reminded Mrs. Phuong to leave her seat and go inside the theater. Seeing her gray hair dotted with raindrops and her shoulders trembling slightly from the cold, I felt immense pity for her.
The rain continued to fall after the performance. We left in silence. It was then that a few messages appeared in the group chat: "It's too cold and rainy, so I don't want to go," "I have an unexpected errand," "I have to go back to my hometown urgently, so…".
Ms. Phuong read the message, but didn't reply, not a single word of reproach. However, after that, I didn't see her join the group to invite anyone to watch the show together anymore. When I asked her about it, Ms. Phuong smiled kindly and said, "Perhaps what I'm doing isn't suitable. Let whoever wants to come on their own. Things that come too easily sometimes aren't appreciated."
That statement made me think for a long time.
I think about the casual appointments, the perfunctory nods, the silences that serve as a formal request. I think about the invitations that were "reserved" for friends and relatives, only to be wasted. If I pause and look deeper, I will see the effort of the organizers and the actors who put into this show. How sad they must be to see the empty seats, while so many people want to see it.
I was thinking about similar things. Like trips , class reunions, visiting friends and family. You register, the organizers arrange accommodation and meals, and then suddenly you're absent. There are so many reasons: some people suddenly feel "reluctant," afraid of "spending money," afraid of "rain," afraid of "being tired"... and countless excuses to back out, leaving the remaining people to bear all the costs and other inconveniences.
Our ancestors had a saying: "One act of dishonesty leads to countless acts of distrust." Great trust in a person is built on their ability to keep even small promises. A tea date, a trip, a helping hand… if promised, they should be kept. If circumstances are unavoidable, a satisfactory explanation is necessary, and the situation should not be repeated.
Life goes on, and the story of Mrs. Phuong's undelivered invitations will become a thing of the past. But surely, Mrs. Phuong's behavior towards some of her friends will be different, and I will think differently about them as well.
Source: https://baothainguyen.vn/van-hoa/202604/nhung-loi-hua-nhe-tenh-262142b/
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