No matter how far you go, if you can come home and eat a meal cooked by your mother or grandmother, you will see that life is still beautiful.
Returning to the city to study, I still remember the summer days when my mother let me visit my grandmother. I was quite busy studying for the entrance exam so it had been a long time since I had been able to visit my grandmother. My heart was filled with excitement.
It was a very fresh and pleasant afternoon. The hot, sultry summer sun had gone, leaving the road covered in puddles left over from the rain. The sky was blue, the wind was cool and gentle, caressing my mother’s skin and long hair. My mother and I sat on the bench waiting for the bus to arrive. The familiar yellow bus stopped in front of us, and my sister and I happily got on, each with a bag of stuff.
The car started moving, my mother chatted with the people on the car, my younger brother struggled to assemble the new toy car that my mother had bought, and I silently watched the moving scenery. The rows of trees laden with rainwater gradually passed by, the scenery gradually blurred along the road, leaving only the smooth green of the grass. All blended together with the fresh, cool breeze that seemed to embrace my soul after days of stressful exams.
In a flash, we arrived at my grandmother's house. From afar, we saw the familiar gray iron gate with the chirping of sparrows on the gatepost. Pushing the iron gate, we entered the most peaceful, comfortable and beautiful place. My grandmother's gentle smile and her diligent and agile appearance: "Are you guys home? Are you carsick? What do you like to eat, I'll pick for you?" That beautiful place was not far away or majestic, it was my grandmother's lush green vegetable garden, the proud roses on the steps, the carpet of pink and purple spider lilies on the path. My grandfather was still working hard at the electronics repair table - the job he usually did. Seeing us coming home, he stood up to help my mother and I carry the things with a warm smile. Coming back to my hometown, seeing the peaceful and beautiful scenery, meeting loved ones, I cherished my beloved homeland even more.
She had almost finished preparing the meal, just waiting for us to come home. I followed her to the garden to pick raw vegetables, and some lemons. As we walked, she told us about growing vegetables and raising chickens. In the pond, the fish seemed to know that guests were coming, splashing around in the water, sometimes coming up to peck at food, then diving back down as if playing hide and seek. The scenery of my grandmother's house was still peaceful, still the sour star fruit tree hanging down by the pond, still the wooden bench where the whole family sat to eat in front of the porch, still the simple teapot of my grandfather, always with a pot of water. The scenery was still there, still intact as if always waiting for us to come home. The rustic dishes were so delicious, there was boiled chicken, crab soup with salt and chili, a plate of stir-fried gizzards and a plate of fresh green vegetables. The dishes were simple and familiar, but under her hands, the chickens she raised and the vegetables she grew became more attractive and of better quality. It had been a long time since I had such a delicious meal on the porch, smelling of the fields and wind, the gentle scent of home. We ate, confided in each other, and told many stories to my grandparents.
My grandmother cut open a fragrant ripe jackfruit, the whole family ate and peeled the jackfruit together, praising its deliciousness. But more radiant was my grandparents' bright smile, a smile that revealed crow's feet.
The modern, luxurious city cannot compare to the smiles of grandpa and grandma, the cool bowl of crab soup on the porch, the scent of ripe jackfruit, the fresh green vegetable garden, the happiness of this place.
And I know, no matter how far away I go, if I can come home and eat a meal cooked by my mother or grandmother, I will see that life is still beautiful.
PHAM PHUONG LINH (Grade 10 Literature, Nguyen Trai High School for the Gifted)