By the star fruit flower porch

The pale purple star fruit petals fall all over the porch, covering the red brick floor in a dreamy color, reminding me of my childhood memories. Every time March comes, the old star fruit tree in front of the house blooms, the small clusters of pretty flowers quietly showing off their colors in the blue sky. Under the shade of that tree, I have had many peaceful summers, sitting with my grandmother picking flowers, listening to old stories, or simply watching the petals falling in the wind.

Star fruit flower.

I was born and raised in a peaceful countryside. My house is a bungalow with a large yard, where an old star fruit tree stands tall. My grandmother said that the star fruit tree has been there since my grandfather was young. Every March, the star fruit flowers bloom, filling the sky with purple. My childhood is closely associated with that star fruit tree. On hot summer days, my friends and I often played hide and seek under the green canopy, feeling the coolness of the shade and listening to the birds chirping on the branches. Sometimes, we climbed up the low branches to pick bunches of ripe star fruit, dipped them in salt and chili, and grimaced at the sourness. But perhaps what I like best are the late afternoons when my grandmother sits on the steps picking up each fallen star fruit flower, fingering her rosary, and softly telling stories of the past.

She often told me that when she was little, she also picked star fruit flowers like me. Back then, our family was very poor, and our frugal meals consisted only of boiled water spinach and a bowl of sour star fruit juice with fish sauce. Yet everyone was happy and loved life. Her voice was deep and warm, as if carrying the scent of time, making me love these little flowers even more each time I heard her tell the story.

Years passed, I grew up, the games of my childhood gradually gave way to books and distant dreams. I went to the city to study at university, then got busy with work and long trips. The star fruit tree still bloomed every March, but I no longer went home to admire it often.

Every time I return to my hometown, I still like to sit on the porch, watching the star fruit petals fall, inhaling the familiar scent. But now, there is no longer a figure of my grandmother on the porch. She passed away after a serious illness. The day she passed away, I did not have time to go back to see her one last time. Only when I returned did I feel my heart ache when I saw the star fruit tree in the front yard still blooming like every season before. But now, there is no one to pick up the fallen petals, no one to tell me old stories.

One morning, I returned to my hometown, stood silently in front of my house, watching the star fruit flowers fall all over the yard. I slowly picked up each flower, just like I used to do with my grandmother when I was a child. Suddenly, a strange feeling of warmth rose in my heart, as if my grandmother were still here, watching me, smiling kindly.

The star fruit flowers are small and fragile, but they contain so many memories and so much love. No matter how much time passes, no matter how far I go, every time the star fruit flowers bloom, I always remember my old home, my beloved grandmother and my childhood days filled with laughter.

By the star fruit flower porch, I understand that there are things, no matter how small, that will forever stay in my heart, like a corner of memory that never fades.

TUONG FUTURE

Source: https://baokhanhhoa.vn/van-hoa/sang-tac/202503/ben-them-hoa-khe-6c1550c/