The peaceful sky in my heart is the childhood days in my maternal hometown. There are rice fields with heavy flowers under the sunset, the sound of kite flutes and fat buffaloes lying leisurely beside bamboo hedges. My childhood was full of running around the countryside, chasing grasshoppers and locusts, sweating profusely but still not forgetting to inhale the scent of new rice.
I remember the days when I followed him to pull the net, covered in mud, but still excitedly looking forward to each time he lifted the net to see his "spoils of war". There were fish, shrimps, big and small, jumping around in the net. So every evening when I returned, he would treat me to a sumptuous meal.
Illustration photo: baolongan.vn
My childhood memories include peaceful days with my grandmother, with simple meals that are so engraved in my mind that even when I grow up, I still cannot forget the delicious, cool taste of those meals.
My grandmother was very skillful, she always made sure we had a complete meal. When I was sent back to the countryside to live with my grandmother, our childhood meals did not have many dishes like now, just a bowl of plain soup, a few shrimps, a few dried fish or a few pieces of tofu, but through my grandmother's hands, that flavor followed me until my hair turned gray.
I often look back to the memories of when I was with my grandmother. The meals with her on the mat in front of the house, she would always serve me whatever she had, and while serving, she would always say, “Eat, my child!”. She knew that I had to be far from home, far from my parents, so perhaps she pampered me more than my uncles and aunts. When there was a sweet potato or cassava buried in the ground, she would always give me the first portion.
After going to college, my sisters and I still often cycled back to our hometown. Sometimes my aunt would give us some potatoes, sometimes my uncle would give us some fish, a few kilos of rice, and that helped us overcome many difficulties and shortages, "nurturing" the memories of my hometown in me.
The sweet scent of the countryside makes people who live in a busy life want to return more and more. There is a peaceful sky with green rice fields, and when the rice flowers bloom, the whole countryside is dyed golden yellow.
The afternoon rice fields in the blue smoke of the afternoon become the scent of the homeland in the mind. After many years away from home, every time I see the vast fields, the scent of the homeland returns, creeping into the "nooks and crannies" of my memory. I suddenly realize that the years of childhood are the peaceful stopover in each person...
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