The old Mid-Autumn Festivals

When the August moon is full, when children start whispering to ask for money to buy lanterns of all shapes, adults start to recall the Mid-Autumn seasons in their memories...

Walking among the hustle and bustle of the city, I was filled with nostalgia for the old Mid-Autumn Festivals in my hometown. It all seemed like just yesterday... Perhaps the 7x and 8x generations will never forget those simple Mid-Autumn Festivals.

Our lanterns are sometimes just bamboo sticks arranged in the shape of a star... Photo from the internet

It was the excitement of making our own lovely lanterns from natural materials. Our lanterns were sometimes just bamboo sticks arranged in the shape of stars, covered with colorful handmade paper; sometimes they were just damaged household items that had been redecorated; sometimes they were elaborately cut lanterns from illustrated magazines... We prepared them a month in advance, stored them carefully, and waited for the day to show them off to our friends, then gasped, admired, and felt proud.

The old Mid-Autumn Festivals

A corner of the old Mid-Autumn Festival market... Photo from the internet

There is a memory that brings tears to my eyes when I think about it. During those famine years, most of us waited for the Mid-Autumn Festival meal cooked for the children by the organizations. It was a bowl of white sticky rice, some spring rolls, and fatty boiled meat that we could only eat during the holidays. So, from early morning on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month, we children eagerly prepared a bowl each, waiting for the gong to ring so we could run quickly to the village common area to receive that wonderful thing. The feeling of eating a piece of white rice, biting into a piece of fatty meat... is an unforgettable memory for life.

After dinner, the children returned home to prepare to go on a lantern procession. Under the clear sky of the countryside, Uncle Cuoi and Sister Hang were very close, just somewhere on a clump of trees, on a bamboo shoot. We played folk games such as hide and seek, catching fireflies to make lanterns, cats chasing mice, then sang and danced together and finally broke the feast. I still remember clearly the feeling when I held the red and green candies when breaking the feast, how excited I was. Sometimes I kept them until the moon was waning and still hadn't eaten them. Perhaps it was those simple, rustic things that bathed my soul, creating the range of emotions so that later, when I went to school, went to work, when I left my hometown, wherever I was, I could easily feel, easily receive and accept the changes of life in a calm, gentle way...

The old Mid-Autumn Festivals

Rural children in the past often set up moon-watching tables on the porch... Internet photo

The old Mid-Autumn seasons have drifted into my memory, interacting with my new experiences, so that from the hardships, the overwhelm, the confusion, the happiness, the suffering, I can easily name the things I have experienced in the special language of poetry.

Whenever new poetic ideas come to mind, I am grateful for the memories of my childhood. Especially the light of the full moon in August, the clear sounds of my friends in the bamboo hedges of my village, and the aroma of the Mid-Autumn Festival dinner without sweet potatoes or cassava back then...

The old Mid-Autumn Festivals

Homemade star lanterns were always a gift that adults gave to children in the past. Photo from the internet

This morning, walking through the street selling Mid-Autumn Festival goods, toys, and cakes have all but disappeared. Surely, they have followed the buses back to their villages and hamlets. And I am sure that, although rural children are no longer in need like we were in the past, their excitement is still intact. I imagine that tonight, in the bamboo hedges of my village, the children will have another memorable Mid-Autumn Festival night. And, they will have memorable memories in their own way, so that no matter how Mid-Autumn Festival is celebrated, with whatever colors, it will still sparkle in the hearts of children...

Nguyen My Hanh

Source