Old town in winter

My family moved to the city to live for almost a year now to make it more convenient for my mother's work. The old house had to be sold. The house in the small town that had been part of my siblings' childhood for so many years had become a part of my memories, a part of my flesh and blood that I was very attached to and regretful about having to leave. My parents had to sell that two-story house to have enough money to buy a new house. The old house with its year-round brilliant bougainvillea trellis still flickered in my sleep. I missed it so much, even the familiar small street that every morning and every afternoon had imprinted my footsteps on the way to school and back home...

Today, after school, I was invited by a classmate to go to a friend's house in town to attend a birthday party. Mom happily allowed me to go. It's been a long time since I've been able to slowly cycle down a familiar street. The rows of old banyan trees on both sides have been cleared to widen the street. But Uncle Sau's sidewalk barber shop is still quietly nestled under the shade of the ancient tree. I know that Dad still comes here to get his hair cut from time to time. He's used to getting his hair cut there. Dad complimented Uncle Sau on his beautiful haircut, which suits him. Once, Dad went to a hair salon in the city to get his hair cut, but when he came back, he looked in the mirror and frowned, shaking his head: "This hairstyle is like a kid's. Only Uncle Sau in the old street where we used to live can cut it well."

From then on, my father wished his hair would grow long so he could return to the old shop and meet acquaintances. At times like that, he learned more about the old town and the old neighbors. Whether the business was going well or not, whether the children were successful in their studies, whether the sick and the injured were sick... my father still cared and followed closely. My mother often joked, saying that my father was a "heavy-hearted" person. Little did she know that I also loved the old town more than the new town now. Although the new town was spacious, the lights were bright, and everyone was bustling, the hurried pace of life, with little concern for each other, almost like each family knew its own, made me crave "slow living". I craved the feeling of cycling slowly, watching the peaceful old town in the middle of winter, watching the leaves rustle and land on the sidewalk.

Under an old tamarind tree, the corn seller sat with her knees drawn up to a pot of steaming boiled corn, the roasted corn giving off a warm aroma. The gift from the old town was not a delicacy but a rich rustic flavor. I stopped the car, bought some roasted corn, to bring home for my mother. She would probably love it. My friend was surprised:

- You live in the city but like this country gift?

I laughed:

- My house used to be on this street, but now I sold it. What a pity... I wish I could get it back later - I suddenly said what I had been wishing for all this time.

I stopped at a souvenir shop. The owner recognized me right away because I used to come here to buy birthday gifts for relatives and friends:

- What do you want to buy, sister? It's been a long time since I've seen you. Have you gone to town yet?

- Yes, ma'am! I want to buy that teddy bear! The white one! - I pointed up to the shelf.

The shop owner skillfully wrapped the gift for me. So I had a gift for my friend's birthday.

Passing by the old house, I stopped the car and looked at the beautiful red and white bougainvillea trellis. I remember that balcony every time I brought a chair out to read a book or sit and enjoy the breeze, looking at the peaceful town in its slow pace of life. I wish... I could be attached to this place forever, to the beloved street, to the house of memories.

All that is left is just a memory. But I still see my hometown, my relatives, and the beautiful memories of my childhood around me. My friend probably guessed my nostalgic mood so she smiled:

- Don't regret too much, boy! Look forward. When you have free time, come ride your bike back to the old town to play with me.

I nodded, promised you. I told myself that I would keep in my heart a part of the beautiful memory of this beloved old street. I miss it so much, the house of my childhood, I miss the old street in winter but still warm and familiar.