Patches of color from memories...

(Baonghean.vn) - Nguyen Nhat Anh has a story titled "Give me a ticket to childhood." If that train truly existed, I would find a ticket for myself to return to my memories. If I could board that train, I would choose a destination called Phan Dang Luu High School (Yen Thanh, Nghe An).

Sunshine in the schoolyard. Artist: Hong Toai

The season has arrived. It's the season of sunshine, the season of wind...

I fell in love with Phan Dang Luu High School from the very first moment I arrived. I remember a sunny August day… A honey-colored sun that bathed the space in golden light. Sunlight streamed down the corridors in long streaks. Sunlight filtered through the ancient trees in shimmering, romantic beams of light. And the schoolyard was also dappled with the color of sunlight…

It's the season of sudden, unexpected rain showers…

Every ordinary image becomes a memory. Source: Phan Dang Luu High School

I love rainy days too… Sometimes the rain is a playful drizzle, sometimes a fierce downpour. But what does it matter, because whenever it rains, the students enjoy getting soaked. I love the rain even more than the sun. Because the sun is sometimes too harsh, making sweat soak through the teachers' clothes. The rain soothes the atmosphere. The light drizzle stirs the heart. How can I forget those rainy days, when all the girls and boys rolled up their pants and ran across the schoolyard, laughing heartily… How can I forget those rainy days, when someone waited for someone else, letting their clothes get wet just to “Give you my raincoat, because I’m afraid you’ll get wet”?

It's the season of leaves...

Three years of schooling, five seasons of changing leaves. Usually, the mahogany trees shed their leaves all at once around the beginning of summer and the end of autumn. The year I entered the school, it was also the season of falling leaves… The leaves gradually changed color, shifting from green to yellow. The leaves didn't all turn yellow at once. They slowly colored each leaf, one by one, until sections of the tree turned yellow one after another until the entire tree was covered in yellow, only then did the leaves begin to fall.

Perhaps never, and never will in my life, have I witnessed such a beautiful sight! When the leaves are ready to fall from the branches, even a gentle breeze is enough to send them cascading down like a waterfall.

I absolutely love the feeling of leaves rustling all around me. I often go to school early, tiptoeing across the quiet schoolyard just to hear the sound of the leaves. Dry leaves rustling underfoot. I can't explain why, but I love that feeling, that sound…

As the yellow leaves fall, new green buds appear, like tiny flames illuminating the branches… Student life is like a leaf. Yellow leaves fall, and green leaves appear. One graduating class is followed by another. And so it goes, the school has seen countless seasons of changing leaves, and now the 53rd graduating class is about to leave. All I can do is hold a leaf in my hand and think, and wish vaguely that time wouldn't pass so quickly…

A weekly flag-raising ceremony. Source: Phan Dang Luu High School

And it is also the season of farewells…

It was under the roof of that school that I first learned to love.

I love my teacher – the one who diligently works on her lesson plans every day… She’s always there for me when I’m sad and lifts me up when I feel like I’m about to collapse. From the bottom of my heart, I want to say thank you…

I love my class – forty-two people. There were arguments, there were disagreements, but when faced with the brink of separation, we always stood together to reflect, to realize that we loved each other even more than we thought. They taught me that "Some feelings are fleeting, some loves last forever"...

My heart sinks at the thought of the day we part. Who dares say time is invisible? My memories will be yellow: the color of sunshine, of leaves, of walls still smelling of fresh lime. Those memories will also be green: the color of the sky, of lush foliage, of verdant grass. And those memories are intertwined with the wistful red of the flamboyant tree, the dreamy purple of the crape myrtle, the graceful, pristine white of my high school ao dai…

Ngo Viet Anh

K55 Law, Vinh University