Late winter

Seasons connect with each other through tiny signs that can only be detected by careful observation. For example, the church bells ring at 4am, which are usually crisp and clear, but now become a little lower, perhaps due to the thick morning fog.

The closer it gets to Christmas, the colder it gets. The wind is already biting the skin in the middle of the afternoon. The TV reports that the weather in the North is getting colder, with some places dropping to 0 ^° C. So there are places where it will snow. Hopefully all the poor children in the highlands have warm clothes to wear, and don't have to huddle in corners because of the cold and sit and wish like the match girl in Andersen's fairy tale of the same name. I remember one year there was a severe cold spell that killed cattle, cows, and crops en masse. People could only look up to the sky and cry. I hope this year the snow will only fall for a few days to welcome Christmas, like a gift from God, and then stop falling, so that everyone can welcome the new year in warmth and prosperity.

The bustling Christmas atmosphere is taking place everywhere in the Catholic neighborhood. Photo: D.Hoa

My house is not in the Catholic neighborhood but it is not far away. If you climb up the three tamarind trees next to the pond, you can easily see the church bell tower standing tall. Every morning at 4 o'clock and in the afternoon around 6 o'clock, the bell rings a familiar melody. Sometimes during the day, the bell rings suddenly, signaling that a lamb has just left this world for the land of God.

We often flock to the church on Christmas to stroll, take pictures and watch performances. A month before Christmas, the Catholic community is bustling with decorating the streets and houses. Colorful lights are strung all over the church and the nearby road. In front of each house, there is a nativity scene, a Christmas tree with colorful balls, and on the door, people hang a green pine wreath with a small bell to signal that the family has finished preparing for the Advent season.

The best thing is to walk around the Catholic neighborhood in the days before Christmas. The streets are sparkling with so many colors, like a beautiful ribbon of light. The music is melodious and cheerful everywhere. People flock here in large numbers, to the point that there are traffic jams that require moving little by little. Young men and women dress up and pose for photos. Everyone tries to smile, hoping to have impressive photos to post on Facebook. Some families have invested in a sophisticated model of Santa Claus that can turn around or wave to visitors thanks to the motor inside. So the children gather around, excitedly shouting and asking to take photos with Santa Claus. Seeing people gathering at the door of their house to take photos, the homeowner also smiles with satisfaction, pleased that their efforts are appreciated by everyone.

Perhaps the most enjoyable thing about Christmas is the shivering cold. In this country where it is hot all year round, cold is a specialty. Thanks to the cold wind, young girls have the opportunity to wear bright red velvet dresses, highlighting their porcelain white skin. Thanks to the cold, people can huddle closer to each other, hand in hand, eye in eye. The cold urges people to move closer to each other. The cold urges people to hug each other to spread warmth. The most enjoyable thing about the cold is probably the boys, who have the opportunity to gallantly take off their coats and put them on their girlfriends' shoulders like in Korean movies.

I don’t know why, but every time Christmas comes, I suddenly feel a strange feeling. Perhaps it’s because it signals the end of the old year and the beginning of a new year. Or maybe it’s because on this day, families gather together, party, and wish each other well, making those far from home feel nostalgic for their homeland.

No matter how far away the parishioners are, they still try to come home for Christmas, attend church services, and gather with their families to celebrate the New Year. It seems that the church bells ring louder than usual on Christmas, or the bells try to move closer together to ward off the cold. Or perhaps the bells are earnestly calling the parishioners far from home to quickly return home for a reunion.

Waking up early in the morning, I also imitated my mother by gathering a pile of dry leaves from the garden to burn to warm up. I warmed my hands and then my feet. In a moment, my body was warm. Back then, my sisters and I often buried sweet potatoes or jackfruit seeds under the pile of leaves, waiting for the aroma to waft up before taking them out to eat. My mother kept scolding me, saying, “Why do you make the smoke so irritating to my eyes, it’s like I’m craving it so much?” Oh my, I’m really craving it now. I just wish I had some buried sweet potatoes or some roasted jackfruit seeds to sniff at because of the heat while chewing noisily, afraid that someone else would snatch them away. After eating, we looked at each other and burst out laughing because everyone’s faces were covered with soot.

A late winter day filled with nostalgia, sadness, and a burning desire: Tet will come quickly so I can come back to Mom, to my home…

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