In my childhood memories, my hometown appears as a peaceful countryside painting, with soft rice fields stretching out, embracing the gentle and winding Cau Da stream. The clear stream water flows day and night, the source of life that nourishes many generations growing up. And in that stream of memories, my heart is deeply engraved with the image of my old father.
I remember the sunset afternoons, after a hard day in the fields, my father quietly carried a bamboo basket down to Cau Da stream to untangle the net. Almost every house in my neighborhood had a few nets to improve the family's meals. It could be a bunch of fresh perch, a few golden catfish or a heavy snakehead fish. My father was very good at casting nets, often knowing where there were many fish and where there were few entanglements in the thorny reeds. The May rains were also the time when Cau Da stream became fuller and had more fish.
It was getting dark when my father returned home with a basket full of fish. The fire was lit. My small kitchen was busier than ever. My father and mother were cooking together. The sound of knives and chopping boards, the sound of oil boiling in the pan, the fresh fish were marinated with spices, added with a little spicy green pepper, then simmered on a small fire. The aroma spread, awakening all the senses, making our stomachs growl with hunger. My brothers and I were all eagerly waiting for the moment to scoop up a bowl of hot rice, pick up a piece of braised fish, and pour in a little thick braised sauce.
How warm and happy that simple family meal was! The cheerful laughter echoed in the small house, my father's gentle eyes watched each child pick up food, that was a simple moment that I cherished all my life. I understood that in each rustic dish there was not only the flavor of the countryside, of the cool stream, but also the salty taste of my father's sweat falling on the fields, on the stream banks every day.
After dinner, my father often sat on the porch and told my brothers and I stories of the past - the days when we first arrived in the sunny and windy land of Tay Ninh . The reclaimed land still smelled of rotten leaves, muddy and muddy; about the hometown stream full of freshwater fish with the simple name - Cau Da; about the gentle people in the village... My father's deep voice was still in my dreams.
Time passed quietly, Cau Da stream still flowed, the rice fields were still green... I grew up, left my father's arms, brought with me the dreams and ambitions of youth to the city to make a living. But wherever I went, my father's image was always in my mind. Whenever I missed my hometown, I imagined my father's thin figure, the old bamboo basket in his hand, his gentle eyes following my every step. I understood that my father was not only the one who brought me warm meals but also the one who planted in my heart the love for my homeland, with the simplest things. My father taught me the value of labor, of perseverance and deep love for family. Cau Da stream is not only the stream that nourishes people but also the flow of sacred paternal love that silently nourishes my soul.
May still comes regularly every year, as a silent reminder of the place where I grew up, of the father who devoted his whole life to taking care of the family, the one who lit the fire of dreams in me with his hard work and boundless love. Time may erase many precious things, but the small stream, the curved Da Bridge and my father's figure will forever be the place for me to return to whenever my heart is wavering between the crossroads of life.
Hello love, season 4, theme "Father" officially launched from December 27, 2024 on four types of press and digital infrastructure of Radio - Television and Binh Phuoc Newspaper (BPTV), promising to bring to the public the wonderful values of sacred and noble fatherly love. |
Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/19/172397/thang-nam-thuong-nho
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