My grandfather was a car mechanic.

My grandfather's repair shop and my grandmother's vegetable stall raised my father and uncles... Family is the entirety of everyone's childhood, a place for nostalgia, and most importantly, it's where you find people who always stand behind you, supporting you and giving you wings to soar higher and further.

"Hey, little Hom, where's your bike? You're so funny, pumping up my tires for free every morning. Patch up my inner tube so I can earn some money to buy tea," my grandfather said with a mischievous smile, teasing little Hom, his hands nimbly pumping up the tires so he could get to school on time. Turning to Mrs. Nu, he chuckled, "You're patching another inner tube? This is the ninth time, it's a mess, like a leech's nest. Change the inner tube, help me out with some money for tobacco." The scrap metal dealer sitting next to him also smiled, because my grandfather's repair shop was always bustling like a village market in the early morning, and even better, he would get a bag of scrap metal from him at a friendly price.

My grandfather said, "This job is so much fun, son!" And I really do find it fun. From early morning until late at night, there's never a break from customers; sometimes they even have to queue. From children going to school, young people going to work, elderly women going to the market, old men going for a stroll, uncles and aunts going to play sports —no matter what kind of bike is broken, my grandfather can fix it. What I admire most is that he can even "cure" those fancy, high-end mountain bikes.

Getting my motorbike repaired at his shop meant enjoying delicious tea, sitting under a cool fan, and always having tobacco readily available. He also had a knack for telling funny stories, keeping customers entertained all day long. With nearly 30 years of experience as a motorbike repairman, he had the art of creating irresistible promotions: free tire inflation, discounted tire repairs, tire replacements with promotions, wheel balancing with cheap brake pads... Each item cost only five or ten thousand dong, yet he was so incredibly thrifty. When I first got into university, he secretly gave me 5 million dong, insisting I keep it and "don't brag about it, use it to improve your health, son. Being far from home is tough, I know"...

Every morning, after finishing her housework, my grandmother would sit and learn the bicycle repair trade from my grandfather. He would say, "You're an excellent apprentice, you can patch tires so quickly now." One day, she even rolled up her sleeves to balance the rims for our neighbor's son, Tũn. The story goes that Tũn came home from school, excitedly showing off his new, awesome kite, when he crashed his bike into a rice field. His clothes were muddy, the rim bent, but Tũn's face was still beaming as if he were imagining his kite soaring in the sky. My grandmother felt so sorry for him that she balanced the rims for free and even lent him her lilac-colored shirt to wear home so he wouldn't get wet.

Many rainy days, little Hoa from the beginning of the village would pass by, adjusting her short raincoat while scraping her foot on the road as if braking. Seeing how pitiful and dangerous it was for her, the old man called Hoa down, only to find out her brakes were worn out. He immediately installed a new pair of brakes, saying, "You owe me the money; pay me back when the account holder has the funds."

One day, before he even had a chance to open his shop, he was inside enjoying tea and smoking a pipe to stay alert when Mr. Sinh next door started banging on the door: "Help, help, Mr. Van! Please pump up my tire, I need to take my grandson to the exam!" The tire was completely flat and wouldn't hold up no matter how hard he tried, so my grandfather lent Mr. Sinh his electric scooter to take his grandson to school.

Everyone in the village loved "Mr. Van the mechanic," not only because he was kind and enthusiastic, but also because they admired him immensely for the treasure trove of jokes he had collected over the years. As he told his stories, customers burst into laughter, while the woman would give him a long, disapproving glare before secretly turning away and giggling to herself. He would then chuckle, making the whole shop livelier than a fresh shrimp stall.

He said, "Young people do small jobs, old people earn money at home," so as long as he has his health and can do useful things, he will try his best, earning some extra money to help his wife buy rice and fish sauce, while also helping others and finding joy for himself. "If you want to learn car repair, I'll teach you for free, guaranteeing you'll be skilled enough to repair cars for your husband someday, but on the condition that you present your university diploma as collateral," he said with a cheerful smile.

My grandfather's auto repair shop and my grandmother's vegetable stall raised my father and uncles. When my father went to university, they still frugally sent him money every month to help him cover his living expenses as a student away from home.

Family is the entirety of everyone's childhood, a place for nostalgia, and most importantly, it's where you find people who always stand behind you, supporting you and giving you wings to soar higher and further. As summer arrives and Tet (Lunar New Year) approaches, my family excitedly returns to the realm of our childhood – the place where our parents raised us and where we were given wings to fly. That place is filled with the warmth of unconditional love.

Source: https://baolaocai.vn/ong-toi-lam-nghe-sua-xe-post890509.html