Where love is kept

For many people, cooking is a hard job, a matter of thinking about what to eat today and what to cook tomorrow. But for me, cooking is a joy every day. I love the feeling of standing in a familiar kitchen, listening to the sound of boiling rice, the smell of fried onions spreading throughout the house, mixed with the smell of braised meat and fried fish. Those seemingly simple things make me feel strangely peaceful, because I know that this meal will bring the taste of love to the whole family.

I still remember the first feeling of becoming a mother and from that moment on, all priorities in life suddenly changed. I became more meticulous, more patient and more sensitive to every gesture of my child. After a long time taking care of my child, I went to work and always tried to finish my work early to come home, just hoping to hear the call "Mom, what are we eating today?". Just a small question, but for me it was a great happiness.

There are days when I finish work late, I still stop by the market at the end of the alley, pick up a bunch of green vegetables, a bunch of shrimp, and fish to cook a family-flavored meal. Just thinking about the whole family gathering around the dinner table, listening to the children's laughter, all my fatigue seems to disappear. My small kitchen then suddenly turns into a place filled with love - where I put all my care and heart as a mother and a wife.

When I was young, I used to think that happiness had to be something big. But then as I grew older, I realized: happiness is actually very simple, it could be a hot meal in a small kitchen, the sound of my husband softly praising "the soup is so delicious today", the sparkling eyes of my child when his mother gave him an extra piece of meat, the moment the whole family sat together happily...

My kitchen is not big, nor is it luxurious, but it is a place that witnesses so much love being nurtured every day. I love the feeling of washing each bunch of vegetables, seasoning, watching the pot of soup simmering... In the sound of oil sizzling in the pan, in the aroma of fried onions just cooked, I feel my heart calm down. In the midst of pressure, deadlines, and stressful meetings, just hearing the sound of rice boiling is enough to know that I have returned to a loving home.

Now, as a mother, I understand more the hardships and simple joys my mother used to gather every day. Every time I cook, I remember my mother's figure hunched over the stove, her hands thin but skillful, her voice gently instructing: "Whatever you cook, you must put your heart into it, my child. Delicious food is not only about the taste, but also because it has love in it." That saying has followed me to this day. Perhaps that is why every dish I cook is a way for me to express my love - not only for my husband and children, but also for myself.

Many people ask me: “You are so busy, why do you still like to cook?” and I just smile. Because for me, cooking is not a job, but a way to love, to keep the family fire burning. When the children grow up, when the husband is sometimes tired from work, the home meal is still the place where everyone comes back, where worries are washed away, where we can be ourselves, without having to hide our smiles or tears.

Once, my daughter wrote in her little diary: “What I like most is the smell of my mother’s cooking, because it makes me feel safe.” I read it with tears in my eyes. It turns out, happiness is not far away, as long as the people you love feel at peace in this very house, that is enough.

At night, the kitchen was quiet, only the yellow light on the wall was shimmering. I poured a cup of tea, listening to the house in the breath of the late night. Out there, life was still bustling, there were still many things I had not had time to do, but in this moment, I felt so rich. Rich because I was still loved, cared for, and could cook hot meals for the people I loved. Rich because my mother was far away in the countryside, and every time she called, she still reminded me: "Take care of your health, don't work too much, remember to eat on time, okay?"

It turns out that being a mother is like that, busy but happy, hard but full of love, when we find joy in the most simple things. Amidst the constant cycle of life, the small kitchen is still the place to keep the fire burning, where happiness is ignited from a pot of soup, a bowl of rice, from laughter spreading throughout the house.

Because after all, a mother's happiness is sometimes simply seeing her family sitting together, eating, laughing and hearing her child softly say:
"Mom, our rice is so delicious."

Thanh Thao

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/van-hoa/dieu-gian-di/202510/noi-giu-lua-yeu-thuong-18b1abb/