Summer in memory

The sun and heat kept pouring down, dazzling the whole summer. The city lacked shade from trees and cool breezes from the riverbank in the summer. So my heart yearned to search for memories of the old summers of my childhood.

You know summer is filled with longing and anticipation in the hearts of children. The relentless, relentless heat cannot compare to the joy of the noontimes when you skip naps, the afternoons when you spend time watching the vast sunset, or the long nights when the moon is shining and the wind is cool. The summer accidentally lights up a red fire, drenching the sweat on mother’s forehead, on father’s shoulder early in the morning when mother is busy cutting vegetables, pedaling her bike to the market, when father is carefully pushing the saw to cut each piece of wood.

We children, on the other hand, were compensated by the occasional cool shower. We could bathe freely, run out into the pouring rain to play, forgetting all the scorching hot days. We ran out into the yard, laughing, splashing water on each other. The sound of pouring rain or the sound of innocent, childish laughter cooled the whole vast summer.

And the movie about the old summer was filled with so many memorable memories that when they grew up, they just had to flip through it like flipping through a notebook, letting the memories just flow freely. That is a precious legacy that now the children have become adults, and even though their parents want to, they cannot afford to buy it for their children to experience every day. So looking at the children today, we can only feel sad and sorry.

There are summers that remain in a distant memory. Sometimes you think or secretly wish you could reach out and catch the hesitant midday sun under the jackfruit tree next to your house. Where the neighborhood kids meet up to hide from their mothers and play all kinds of games just like adults. A few old bricks put together, some leaves, vegetables from the garden, a few dry branches gathered, and then there is a whole fire, a meal prepared as if it were real for a whole family in a game where the kids assign roles, with parents and children. You are absent-mindedly missing the shimmering sunlight when you look up at the rare yard in the middle of the city, your heart swaying on the boat wanting to go back in time.

That summer was busier for the children because their father made them kites and taught them how to fly kites in the gentle sunset. They painstakingly cut out old newspapers, asked their mother for some cold rice, added curved ribs that their father bent, meticulously cut and pasted them to create simple but beautiful kites. The sky, the fields, the fields, the cool wind connected together, opening up an endless space. There were so many kites flying in the wind, so many bright, vibrant summer days, filling the children's eyes with happiness. Simple happiness filled their luggage on the road to becoming adults, and even if they later became successful in the city, it would be difficult for them to find such clear, peaceful memories for their children.

In the summer of the countryside, the clear voice of calling out in the midday sun "who wants ice cream" awakens the children's cravings. The ice cream seller carries with him the anticipation in the children's eyes. The children run into the house to find and ask their mother for even a pair of torn plastic sandals, a punctured aluminum pot, a worn basin, a bunch of chicken and duck feathers that can be used now... Just by exchanging for a green bean or red bean ice cream stick... the summer suddenly becomes cool and spacious. Sometimes, there is not much to exchange at home, the two brothers only have one ice cream stick to share but happiness is so full.

Summer has stayed with the once-famous movies. We only waited for summer to come so we could watch our favorite movies like "Journey to the West", the cartoon "Sailor Moon"... Whenever the familiar music played, we all quickly gathered at Huong's house. The tiny black and white TV back then seemed to contain thousands of wonders, like Doraemon's bag that opened to reveal any gift the kids wished for. The movies and programs were small flowers that connected the endless summer, sweet as a cool glass of lemonade.

However, all summers eventually come to an end. Children eventually grow up and become adults. Perhaps, occasionally, you and I, we allow ourselves to wander back to the vast fields of old summer memories…!