The place where our roots await our return.

Whenever the chilly monsoon winds sweep through the city, a feeling of longing arises in the heart of a person far from home like me.

Offering tray for Tet (Lunar New Year) - Photo: Provided by the author

I remember the old, dilapidated one-story house at the end of the dead-end road in the white sand dunes of Binh Sa, where the handshakes of three generations remained warm amidst the ups and downs of a family stained with mud.

The three-room house is a relic left behind by my great-grandfather, standing strong through countless storms with its rough, laterite brick walls. I often touch those tiny holes in the stone, feeling as if I'm touching the eyes of time, silently watching its descendants grow up.

The central room houses the ancestral altar – the heart of the family, a reminder to descendants of the principle of "drinking water, remembering the source." The house sits quietly, with a murmuring stream on one side and the tranquility of the burial mounds in the Dong Do area on the other. Stepping through the gate with its two towering coconut trees, all the hustle and bustle of the city is left behind, leaving only the connection to one's roots.

Under the golden spring sunshine, the ancestral shrine of my grandfather's siblings—those who fell at a very young age due to the war—lies peacefully beneath the shade of a starfruit tree and an acacia tree.

My grandfather said those were "living relics" so that his descendants would never forget where they grew up. Next to them stood an old apricot tree, bending under the weight of the branches, waiting for Tet (Lunar New Year).

In the old days, my siblings and I used to compete to pluck the leaves from the apricot blossom tree around Tet (Lunar New Year), our laughter echoing throughout the garden. Now, each of us has gone our separate ways: one is in the army, another is working far from home, and I am engrossed in my studies. Only Grandpa remains, quietly plucking each apricot blossom leaf, as if counting the days until his grandchildren return.

Apricot blossom trees in full bloom during Tet (Lunar New Year) - Photo: Provided by the author

My memories often linger for a long time in the kitchen, with its blackened rafters stained with soot and smoke. Grandma Bay was my grandfather's sister, and she lived with our family from the time I was a baby. She never married or had children, dedicating her entire life to caring for my father, my aunts, and my siblings alongside my grandparents.

Beneath the dark, time-worn tiled roof, Grandma used to sit by the crackling fire, fanning herself and softly singing, "The wind carries the mustard greens to heaven, the coriander remains to endure the bitterness of life…" Grandma passed away four months ago. This spring, the kitchen is still here, but the lullaby has faded away. The old bamboo fan still lies beside the stove, its worn bamboo slats still tinged with the warmth of Grandma's thin hands.

I suddenly realized that the warmth of a home doesn't lie in its walls, but in the presence of its people. When people leave, the kitchen is left with only cold ashes, reminding me that it is people who truly keep the fire warm in a place to return to.

The longing and anticipation felt every time the year ends and Tet (Lunar New Year) approaches - Photo: Provided by the author

The small hamlet by the dead end is now quiet. The neighboring houses are empty as the elderly have passed away and their children have moved far away to start their own businesses. But in my grandparents' yard, the Tet atmosphere still stirs beside the golden pile of straw and the rows of coriander and cabbage blooming with vibrant yellow flowers.

I crave the pungent taste of pickled shallots, the savory flavor of salted pork with fish sauce, a taste that, no matter how many magnificent buildings I pass by, I can't find. The simple joys of children back then were sitting on a small ox cart, savoring a piece of rich dried coconut sandwiched between crispy rice crackers.

I remember those late afternoons at the end of the year, going with my grandfather to dig sand to replace the incense burners. We dug deep to find the cleanest, purest sand to offer to our ancestors. He said, "If the sand is clean, then our hearts must also be clean when we invite our ancestors to come and celebrate Tet." The meal on the 30th of Tet was laid out in solemn silence, a sacred invitation for our ancestors to return and reunite.

I carried with me the hopes and expectations of my family when I left my hometown for the city. The adults often advised me: "Study hard so you can have a better life, don't end up working in the fields like we did back home." But paradoxically, every time I returned home, I didn't want to leave. I always chose the last bus, just to breathe in a little more of the scent of burning palm leaves on those late afternoons at the end of the year.

The further I travel, the more I realize: there are places I miss more and more the further I leave, and the more I miss them, the more I want to return. Even if old age takes my grandparents away, my parents will be the ones to continue carrying on the family lineage on this land.

The house may be old, the surroundings may be quiet, but it has never lost its warmth. Because it is the source, the place that always welcomes back the sparrows that have "grown their wings."

Amidst the towering buildings, I know I am fortunate to still have a handful of white sand to be proud of, a warm fire to comfort my soul, and a roof over my head where I can forever feel like a loved child.

We invite readers to participate in the "Springtime Home" writing contest.

As a source of spiritual nourishment during the Lunar New Year season, newspapers Youth Together with our partner, INSEE Cement Company, we continue to invite readers to participate in the "Springtime Home" writing contest to share and introduce your home – your warm and cozy haven, its features, and unforgettable memories.

The house where your grandparents, parents, and you were born and raised; the house you built yourself; the house where you celebrated your first Tet (Lunar New Year) with your small family... all can be submitted to the competition to introduce to readers nationwide.

The article "A Warm Home in Spring" must not have previously participated in any writing competition or been published in any media or social networks. The author is responsible for copyright, and the organizing committee has the right to edit the article if it is selected for publication in publications. Youth They will receive royalties.

The competition will take place from December 1, 2025 to January 15, 2026, and all Vietnamese people, regardless of age or profession, are welcome to participate.

The article "A Warm Home on a Spring Day" in Vietnamese should be a maximum of 1,000 words. Including photos and videos is encouraged (photos and videos taken from social media without copyright will not be accepted). Entries will only be accepted via email; postal mail will not be accepted to avoid loss.

Entries should be sent to the email address maiamngayxuan@tuoitre.com.vn.

Authors must provide their address, phone number, email address, bank account number, and citizen identification number so that the organizers can contact them and send royalties or prizes.

Newspaper staff Youth Family members may participate in the "Springtime Warmth" writing contest but will not be considered for prizes. The organizing committee's decision is final.

The Springtime Shelter Award Ceremony and the Launch of the Youth Spring Special Edition

The judging panel included renowned journalists, cultural figures, and representatives from the press. Youth The judging panel will review the entries that have passed the preliminary round and select winners.

The awards ceremony and launch of the Tuoi Tre Spring special issue are scheduled to be held at Nguyen Van Binh Book Street, Ho Chi Minh City, at the end of January 2026.

Prize:

1st prize: 10 million VND + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue;

1 second prize: 7 million VND + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue;

1 third prize: 5 million VND + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue;

5 consolation prizes: 2 million VND each + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring issue.

10 Readers' Choice Awards: 1 million VND each + certificate, Tuoi Tre Spring Edition.

The voting points are calculated based on interaction with the post, where 1 star = 15 points, 1 heart = 3 points, and 1 like = 2 points.

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TRINH QUOC VIET

Source: https://tuoitre.vn/noi-nguon-coi-doi-ta-ve-20260112150408674.htm