Sweet fruit of love

(Baonghean) - Accidentally on Facebook, I found my old school page. I was moved to the core when I saw the classrooms, desks, rows of classrooms, the banyan and royal poinciana trees that I was attached to during my high school years. Even though more than 15 years have passed.

More than 15 years ago, like it was yesterday, I still remember the feeling of shame when someone asked: "Which school are you from?". Sometimes I ignored it and didn't answer. Because studying at a private school is nothing to brag about. It was the misplaced pride of a kid who was considered a good student but failed the high school entrance exam and entered a private school. It seemed like half of my class at that time felt the same way.

But then, that feeling never existed, when...

My homeroom teacher at that time, Mr. Hoang Tru, immediately understood every defeated look of those proud students. He often recited the poem: "If you don't eat chili, it's still spicy" by Tu Xuong to remind those "defeated" students to remember the pain of failing the exam and try harder. Until now, I still remember every single tone of his accent (he was really profound). But besides that sentence, he also often told his students: "Failure is the mother of success".

My homeroom teacher was always like that. He never had the attitude of "putting down" any student. No matter how bad they were, how bad they were at studying or how disruptive they were. On the contrary, he never praised any good student to the skies with compliments. Thanks to that, no one in our class was arrogant nor did anyone have to feel inferior. A girl who helped her mother sell vegetables every day but did not study as well as her classmates was reminded by the teacher: "You must learn from T. because T. knows how to share the family burden with her father and mother. But T. must also learn from her classmates to try to get better academic results. Only by studying can we escape poverty."

Every Tet, the teacher would go to each student’s house, visit the study corner and tell them that this corner was dark, that corner was messy and needed to be fixed. Any poor student would receive a little money from the teacher to buy books. The teacher had collected books all his life, and students could borrow them freely “to save their parents money”. It seemed that in my whole life, I had only met one teacher who visited his students during Tet and always thought about saving money for their parents – that teacher.

The teacher always had a deep gaze as if he understood the hearts of his students. Just by looking at his serious but sincere eyes, no one could lie more than two sentences. During high school, we students still did not understand why he had such authority. Only when we had many obstacles, far from school and far from the teacher, did we understand that, simply, the teacher loved and understood the students, was strict like a father but close like a mother, so how could the students not be afraid?

In addition to the homeroom teacher, my high school vice principal was also quite special. Mr. Hoang Ky had a rather “strange” appearance that always reminded me of the principal who walked around the schoolyard of Tomoya in the work “Toto-chan, the little girl at the window” that I loved. He would stop to chat and smile with any student who wanted to talk to him. Or sometimes, he would conveniently pick up the trash that students had “forgotten” in the hallway to throw in the trash can.

The time my teacher called me to his office for tea was because I had a poem that was 80% similar to someone else's published in the newspaper. To put it in a flowery way, it's called "rehashing", to put it bluntly, it's plagiarism. At that time, because I liked the poem so much, I "rehashed" it and thought no one knew because it had been published in the newspaper a long time ago. Yet someone still informed my teacher. If it wasn't Mr. Ky but some other rigid principal, it could have been a terrible scenario like this: I would have been exposed in front of the flag during the flag-raising ceremony. After that, I would have felt humiliated forever and never dared to pick up a pen again.

But luckily for me, he very gently met me privately and said: "I don't need you to explain. Everyone has times when they make mistakes and are thoughtless. I just want to say that you are very capable, so you should do what you have. I hope that you will succeed." And I am extremely grateful for that, especially since I can still make a living as a writer. That was the only time I "rehashed" and will definitely remember it for the rest of my life. He also gave me a lesson in behavior that will last a lifetime: When you truly trust and love someone, that person will not let you down.

Our class that year, although we were students who failed the public high school entrance exam, all passed the university entrance exam, went to work and established stable careers in many big cities. And you know, for some reason, later, when many people met me and asked: "Did Huong study at Phan Boi Chau High School in high school?", I immediately answered: "No, I studied at Nguyen Truong To Private High School" with very honest pride.

I know that right now, in the place where I used to study, there are still stubborn new students like me, carrying the sadness of “taking the exam without eating chili but it was still spicy”. But, my dear, there will definitely be unexpected sweet things waiting for you ahead.

For me, it was a very proud school where I met teachers and friends that, when I think back to them, I still feel sweet and warm. I still remember the words of my homeroom teacher as if it were yesterday: "In the most unexpected place, if you sow faith, love and sincerity, there will always be sweet fruit."

Vo Thu Huong