May month

I returned to my old school after many years away from home, stepped onto the podium, and felt the faint sound of my homeroom teacher's lecture. The whole class pulled each other to open each page of the class diary, in which there were promises, jokes, and the innocence of school days back then. The old poinciana tree quietly bloomed yellow flowers, welcoming the old students of the school. The desk still engraved the secret feelings of that time, even now looking back, I still feel shy, smiling "I was so naive back then".

Báo Đồng Nai•24/05/2025

Teachers are certainly people who never forget their students from each school year. With squinting eyes behind thick glasses, teachers will name each student. This student used to be a wiggler, that student was quiet but had a talent for literature, or that student almost made teachers cry with surprises from their birthdays to Vietnamese Teachers' Day. All of it seems like it was just yesterday, reminding us of so many beautiful memories, appearing as the years go by.

Sending the sweetness of May, loving more the memories and moments of the season. Outside, the figure of a bent-backed mother is carrying a load of goods through the small path, longingly calling May to the porch...

In May, on the dike, the children chased each other after colorful kites in the windy afternoon. The sound of the kites whistled, bringing peace into the memories of the early days, some followed the big kites and ran with their pants down, some waded in the river to catch some perch to fry in fish sauce and chili. The crabs looked at the golden sunlight on the fields full of branches, predicting a promising bumper crop. Dad still diligently carried his hoe to the fields every day, visiting the rice fields from the greenest days to the days of harvest, his eyes sparkling with joy when this year, after many years, saw a bumper crop. The fruit trees in the home garden were watered with the clear sounds of summer, the chirping of each other in the neighbor's garden. The "festival" season of the children had begun like that.

I followed the long corridor, endlessly remembering the path full of yellow trumpet flowers, leading to the bend with many wild tamarinds. I remember the time when May came, I also quietly went there, sometimes to escape the frustrations of school, sometimes to happily pick up sour tamarinds for my mother to cook a pot of soup to cool down the summer. The chattering of my friends kept appearing and disappearing in my mind, this place where little Minh was angry with his father also sat here sobbing with me. There, little Quan picked young star fruit to dip in shrimp paste, the images of that day always made my heart beat with affection.

Swiss

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/dong-nai-cuoi-tuan/202505/thenh-thang-thang-5-1dd1e30/