The story of the envelope
(Baonghean) - When we were kids, the hottest topic for us on the first days back to school after Tet was always "How much lucky money did we get this Tet?". With plenty of money in our pockets, we'd all sit around in the yogurt shop in front of the school gate, ordering one cup after another just to show off how "rich" we were. It was unclear who won, but we all knew that the next day we'd all have sore throats and could barely speak.
But that was just a "pretend move" to show off to everyone; the truth is, right after the Lunar New Year holiday, all our New Year's money was collected in one place: Mom's wallet. For stubborn kids like my older brother, the answer was "coercive measures." And frankly, what's the point of keeping so much money if it'll just be squandered on game arcades or similar things anyway? As for me, I was very smart. Right after the holiday, I voluntarily calculated and compiled a precise statistical table of my "income" and handed over both the written and physical amounts to Mom. To commend my self-discipline, Mom always gave me the extra change, and honestly, that was more than enough for a primary or secondary school kid. Perhaps that was much more comfortable than hoarding a pile of money when your needs were negligible. And sooner or later, that excitement mixed with a touch of apprehension will be forgotten somewhere by the absent-mindedness and love of fun of childhood. In a comic book store, a game arcade, an expensive toy,...
I've long since passed the age of receiving Lunar New Year lucky money, and I've reluctantly accepted the fact that I have to use my own money to give lucky money to my younger siblings and nieces and nephews. In the final days of the Lunar New Year, my friends and I met at a coffee shop, and without any prompting, we all complained about our empty wallets after the holiday. One of us said, "It's so unfair! When we were kids, we never got to keep our lucky money for ourselves. What about the kids these days?" As if to prove her point, she gestured for us to look around the shop. It was full of… kids! Well, not quite, but the clientele at the coffee shop has noticeably become younger these days.
From what I understand, kids usually eat snacks at roadside stalls and eateries, rarely frequenting cafes like this. Another friend whispered, "The other day I was sitting at a pub-cafe, the kind that sells alcoholic drinks, and I ran into a group of elementary school students. I was startled; I thought I'd gone to the wrong place. There were even groups of students playing cards for money inside, arguing loudly and gambling like a real gambling den. The owner warned them, but after a while they were back to their old ways. Some of them even argued back, saying they were just playing for fun, that it would be a waste not to spend their New Year's money..."
Hearing that broke my heart. Seeing those faces, still bearing traces of childhood, those small hands effortlessly and skillfully pulling money out of their wallets, I felt something inside me shattering, something weeping. Memories of cherishing those bright red envelopes of lucky money, the excitement of opening them and pulling out crisp new bills, the satisfaction and a touch of solemnity and reverence when counting the money during Tet. And what I remember most, what haunts me the most, is seeing the somewhat weary and tired faces of my parents after each Tet holiday expense.
It would be far more meaningful to keep just a symbolic amount for ourselves. Have we ever considered giving the rest as a "New Year's gift" to our grandparents and parents, acknowledging their tireless efforts throughout the year? Adults give children lucky money to wish them a new year filled with good fortune and health, but children truly grow up when they receive these wishes with gratitude and a desire to reciprocate. Living according to their age and being responsible for what their loved ones give them, so that the New Year's lucky money envelopes truly bring joy to everyone.
Hai Trieu
