I was able to return to the familiar three-room tiled house. The house had a large brick yard, and every morning my grandmother swept the fallen leaves from the custard apple tree next to the yard. The alley was also very long, with rows of hibiscus on both sides, making the borders bright red. During my childhood, I often hung around with my friends in the village. The house was a beautiful memory built by my parents when they were young. From the time the house was a thatched roof, the walls were covered with mud and straw to the time it was replaced by a small and cozy three-room tiled house.
The house, though simple, was always filled with laughter. I still remember the hot June afternoons, when the whole family waited for the sun to set before going out to the garden, sitting on the small bed, watching the sunlight glisten through the bars of the window and chatting animatedly. There were days when the power went out, my mother used a bamboo fan to fan her children when the wind outside died down. There was a day when my mother went into the kitchen to cook a big pot of black bean sweet soup. The original black bean sweet soup my mother made only had black beans with a little sugar, and a few ice cubes, and it became an unforgettable delicacy. At that time, I thought that because of the lack of food, everything tasted delicious, but when I grew up and matured, I realized that the best food is when we gather around to enjoy it with our loved ones.
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| Illustration: Tra My |
Coming home in June, although the weather was hot, everything was peaceful and gentle as if my soul had been washed away all worries and sorrows. In the morning, I did not have to rush around to prepare everything to go out to earn money, but leisurely lay down by the bed listening to the birds chirping. I put my feet up on the window bars and watched time pass slowly. I listened to all the sounds outside the garden. There were sounds that I thought were monotonous over the years, but at this moment they were so melodious and beautiful. The sparrows chirped to each other, perhaps they wanted to play on the star fruit branches. The sound of the thrush was surprisingly clear and pure. The sound of the leaves rustling and the sound of the cicadas chirping continuously.
In June, when I returned home, I had the opportunity to return to my rustic farming roots. When I was young, I often followed my parents to plow, plant, harvest, and pick. I thought I would forget those things after days of wandering around the city, but no, I still did them skillfully as if farming was ingrained in my blood and flesh and could never fade away. I held a sickle to cut the rustling bundles of rice, and also guessed the rice varieties by looking at the round or long grain shape. People looked at me and laughed, joking that "city people" were so good. I followed my parents to the fields to harvest each cassava root, ran down to the river to scoop each bucket of water to irrigate the vegetable fields. Only when I became a farmer could I see the hard work of my parents, how much sweat and effort it took to produce fragrant rice grains and clean green vegetables.
Coming home in June, I feel like I am reliving my childhood, even though many years have passed, even though the paper kites no longer fly in the windy sky. But the dike is still there, the footprints of me and my friends are still there. I sit on the dike listening to the June wind caressing me, hearing the laughter of me and my friends from the past lingering here. The canal leading the water is so green, we kids used to show off our swimming skills, reminding me of my “glorious” time. I used to be a village swimming superstar. That title made me happy throughout the memorable summer of my childhood.
Coming home in June, I can’t tell you all the love and old memories. I’m like a happy baby bird returning to a home full of love and protection. There I am myself, comfortably returning to my consciousness and roots.
Source: https://baodaklak.vn/van-hoa-du-lich-van-hoc-nghe-thuat/van-hoc-nghe-thuat/202506/thang-sau-ve-nha-39a03f4/
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