New Year is here! The children shouted as my mother removed the last page of the old calendar. Taking down the old calendar, putting up the new one - it was a ritual in my family.
After removing the last calendar page, my mother always used a soft cloth to wipe off the dust on that wall. At that time, my father had finished assembling the new calendar on the cardboard, had removed the cover, revealing the first calendar page of the new year with the bright red words - New Year's Day.
I don’t remember how many years we’ve been performing that ritual together, I don’t remember how many years have passed on that wall, but I remember, my father always reminded me: You must know how to cherish time, you must use your time to do many good things. Now, there are many ways to look at the calendar, but my family still keeps the old way. We still hang the calendar, tear off the calendar every day, and still make notes on some calendar pages and put it in a paper bag.
There are many old calendars where Dad carefully recorded family events, such as the day Mom sowed the first row of cabbage... Photo: Internet
Sometimes it was the day my mother sowed the first row of mustard greens, the day the chickens hatched, the day my father grafted lemon or grapefruit branches, the day my grandchild got his first baby tooth, the day my father planted a certain flower in the garden... These were trivial things but full of joy. That's why my father always wrote very neatly. I always thought that a certain flower had bloomed fragrantly in each stroke of his handwriting.
- At this time, if he were still alive, the gladiolus and dahlias in my garden would have been blooming! - My father suddenly exclaimed as he flipped through the calendar pages with notes from the old year. My uncle was a person who loved flowers immensely. In the tiny garden in front of his house, in those long ago years, there was never a time when there were no flowers blooming. Sometimes it was cinnamon roses, sometimes violets, forget-me-nots, sometimes portulaca, sometimes marigolds. And during the traditional New Year, the gladiolus and dahlias were always bright in color.
Every spring, there are always flowers that announce spring, welcome spring, and celebrate spring blooming in the hands of the cultivator. Photo: Internet
There was no flower that did not bloom profusely under his care. We learned from him the love of flowers, so in front of our house, no matter how many times it changed, we always reserved a plot of land to plant flowers. So that every spring, there would always be flowers that herald spring, welcome spring, and celebrate spring blooming in the hands of the person who cultivated it.
The New Year has truly come! The children cheered again when they saw the first bud of marigold blooming on the marigold bush!
- Who taught you that?
- It's grandpa! It's grandpa! - each child answered in their own way and was engrossed in exploring the buds on the chrysanthemum bushes and peach trees that grandpa had planted to celebrate Tet! A peaceful day had begun again...
And this morning, when the first calendar page opened, I silently hummed that song - "Spring has just arrived, flowers are in my hands...". Photo: Internet
My father used to say that every day that passes, being able to tear off an old calendar page in peace is a great happiness. Perhaps my parents also secretly put many wishes into those pages. So that we always have peaceful days, always have the opportunity to live a decent life every day. And this morning, when the first calendar page opened, I silently hummed that song - "Spring has just come, flowers are coming to the hands..." when thinking about my uncle, my parents and the hands that are nurturing the buds to welcome the new year. Suddenly, I wanted to separate that song from its subject to write a poem for my own spring story...
Mr. Hoai
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