The garden of love carries dreams.

1. My friend is a nature lover, especially of flowers and plants. Therefore, she dedicated a plot of land to growing flowers, each season bringing its own fragrant, sweet blossoms. For her, this garden is filled with love, carrying her childhood dreams. She often recounts that, in the past, her family also had a garden that was lush and green all year round, full of sweet flowers and fruits. In her free time, she would often go to the garden to help her mother, watering, weeding, cutting flowers, and picking fruit.

Walking through the garden in the early mornings, hearing the chirping of sparrows or gazing at the golden rays of sunlight just beginning to peek through the treetops, filled her heart with so much faith and love for life. Watching her parents toil diligently, their faces always bright with sweat, she always dreamed of one day becoming a kind-hearted gardener like them, or at least saving up to buy a plot of land to plant trees. And then, that dream came true, as beautiful as her flower-filled garden today.

Each time I visit her, strolling leisurely through her fragrant garden, I feel so small in the tranquil, slow pace of life. Sometimes, people need moments like these to find peace amidst serenity. These days, as the cool breeze blows in gusts, the garden remains verdant, silently nurturing the new season's blossoms. In the slanting afternoon sun, my heart sparkles with a poetic thought: "In silence, I sit blending crimson dreams / painting old dreams on each canvas / my heart still remembers days long, long ago / days of flowers, of dreams. And you."

2. Suddenly, I remembered the garden filled with childhood memories and the clear, innocent laughter of friends. It was my grandparents' lush green tea garden. There were ancient tea bushes, their trunks dark gray, their branches reaching high, painting a vibrant tapestry against the blue sky. During each harvest, my grandmother would often have to climb onto a tall stool to reach the furthest-reaching branches.

We children would often choose the two tallest, closest tea trees to build our "house" for playing pretend. We'd use the two tea tree trunks as front posts, and two pieces of bamboo nailed securely to the garden for the back. The roof was made of old banana leaves, and the floor was covered with an old mat. Our pretend playthings were bunches of figs and mulberries we'd gathered together, or a few bananas and grapefruit segments our grandmother gave us. We'd play until we were completely engrossed, our laughter and chatter filling the sunny garden with joy.

When I was alone, I would still go to the garden to play. After a while of buying and selling by myself, I would get bored, so I would make a place to lie down, gaze at the clouds in the sky, and softly sing the folk songs my grandmother had taught me. Looking up at the lush green tea branches with their intertwined leaves, I would let my mind wander. The seven-year-old girl at that time couldn't stop thinking about her grandmother and her teacher with love and admiration. I dreamed that when I grew up, I would be gentle, capable, and able to do anything like my grandmother; and beautiful, kind, and knowledgeable about everything like my teacher.

When I confided these things to her, she would often hug me, gently stroke my head, and say, "Then you must study hard, my child. When you grow up, you'll become as accomplished as your teacher." Her words resonated deeply in my heart, igniting a life aspiration in a young soul brimming with dreams and aspirations.

3. On a leisurely weekend, I took my daughter to visit my friend's garden. This season, the garden has new friends: a few clumps of white wildflowers brought from Da Lat. Several rose bushes, including the old-fashioned Sa Pa roses and the old-fashioned Van Khoi roses, are peeking out with buds. The chrysanthemum beds are turning yellow in the sunlight. Next to them, a patch of pristine white heather is interspersed with gentle purple hues, blending harmoniously with the breeze.

The little girl skipped along, her laughter and chatter filling the air with the fragrance of flowers. “This garden is so beautiful! When I grow up, I’ll buy a garden and be the one to grow all these fragrant flowers!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy. Watching her play amidst the peaceful greenery and expansive space, my heart was filled with love for life.

Suddenly, my daughter ran towards me, grabbed my hand, and asked a question I already knew the answer to: "Mom, what was your dream when you were little?" I can't remember how many times she's asked me that. Each time I hear her ask, memories flood back. And I feel even more affection for the dreams that were nurtured in my grandmother's small garden, in the peaceful countryside, filled with warmth and family love.

Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/vuon-thuong-cho-nhung-uoc-mo-post573801.html