Meals were mixed with cassava and sweet potatoes, sometimes just a pot of thin porridge with a little fish sauce, but the whole family still gathered together. In that difficult time, my mother's love for us was always the warmest fire, so that every time I remember it, I still feel tears in my eyes...

In those days, having a piece of meat, a fish or anything delicious was rare. Whenever there was a “luxury” dish in the house, we kids would jump up and down with joy. I still remember clearly one time when my dad came back from a long business trip, bringing with him some dried fish. My mom prepared the food, skillfully stewed the fish with the remaining fat in a tall earthenware jar, the aroma spreading throughout the poor kitchen. We kids just stood around waiting, eyes wide open. When the tray was cleared, the fish was divided into each child’s bowl. As for my mom’s bowl, there was only rice and boiled vegetables.

Illustration photo: vinhlong.edu.vn

At that time, I wondered why my mother didn’t eat fish. She just smiled, patted my head and said: “Mom doesn’t like to eat, you guys eat.” When I was little, I believed that my mother didn’t like it. But as I grew older and understood more, I realized that my mother’s words were a sky full of sacrifice. During those difficult days, my mother always gave us the best and most delicious things.

Mother took joy from her children's innocent eyes and full smiles to forget her own deprivation. One time, after a morning of shopping, she bought some fried cakes. When she got home, she called us together and carefully divided them. I noticed that her hands were still covered in fried flour, but her mouth was still smiling, urging her children to eat while they were hot. I asked her why she didn't eat, and she replied: "I avoid eating too much oil, it will make me full, you guys eat." Then I nonchalantly picked up the cake and ate it deliciously.

Those memories piled up over the years, forming a never-ending nostalgia. Perhaps in this whole life, Mom has never really “disliked eating” as she said. She just likes to see her children grow up, likes to hear the crisp laughter after meals, likes the feeling of the whole family being full during the days of famine. Mom always keeps that simple happiness in her heart and calls it “dislike”.

Now, life is better than before, family meals are always full of meat and fish. Every time I sit down to eat with my mother, I often give her the best dishes. She just smiles gently and says: "I'm old now, I can't eat much, you children just eat." Hearing that, I feel both pity and pity. I understand that over the years, my mother has become accustomed to sacrifice, to give in, to putting her children's happiness above her own.

Nowadays, the economy is better, but my mother can no longer eat as much as before. The memory of those years of poverty and the image of my mother always giving her portion of food to her children will forever be the most profound lesson in my life. It reminds me to live kindly, to appreciate what I have, and above all, to love and respect my parents more. Because behind the light words “I don’t like to eat” is a vast, quiet and enduring love that cannot be compared to anything.

Every time I remember, my heart is filled with infinite gratitude. My mother raised us, not only with food and clothing, but also with silent, simple yet profound love. And perhaps for the rest of my life, I will carry her gentle voice like a sweet lullaby, to love, to remember, and to remind myself to live worthy of my parents' love.

NGOC LAM

    Source: https://www.qdnd.vn/van-hoa/doi-song/tu-trong-ky-uc-mieng-ngon-me-danh-cho-con-848070