Essay by PaperNerd ContributorCollege, Undergraduate September 2001

download word file, 2 pages 0.0

Downloaded 22 times

The flower garden of Mr. Nam was the largest and most beautiful garden in Duc Tai Commune. Every night the fragrance of flowers spread all over the place: gladioli, roses, sunflowers, violets and this one that is known only to a handful of people, because it is so small, the plant is just about a span height, this has uneven colour, this one would give you some violets, that one would sprout white in white or yellow bloom. These tiny buds have a special scent of confectionery and fruit. Phuong nodded his agreement: Yes, confectionery and fruit. These are things about my happiest days. How precious it is when the fragrance of flowers arouses human memories. Is this why westerners call this flower "forget-me-not?" Away month after month on one business trip after another, Phuong would go to see Mr. Nam whenever he came home, and potter around the flower plants and trees.

The strange flowers had entered his soul, creating a gentle, relieving and confused feeling.

Phuong followed his parents when the whole clan moved to Phan Thiet. He missed Ha Noi very much. Particularly after he joined the army, every night there appeared in his mind the sight of the flower blossoming and his maternal grandfather absorbed in tending the flower garden. This was not done just to make money. The money earned from selling the flowers was kept by mother. Grandfather did not know anything about what was being sold or bought. The house was there, and he was comfortable, and did not demand anything more. His life was simple. No alcohol, or tea or cigarettes. Every morning when he picked flowers for mother to go to the market, he sat admiring them for a long time, and then entreated her, "If someone takes great interest in...