My childhood was peaceful days living with my grandmother in the countryside. Back then, I was still tiny, having just started first grade, when my mother “specially” allowed me to go to the countryside to live with Grandma. My grandfather passed away early, and both my mother and aunt went to Hanoi for university and started families there, so only Grandma was left in our hometown.
My childhood was peaceful days living with my beloved grandmother
I still remember many times when my mother offered to bring Grandma to Hanoi to live with our family, but she firmly refused. She said she wanted to stay in this house, and if she moved to Hanoi, there would be no one left to look after the incense and offerings for Grandfather. My mother felt sorry for her but did not know how to persuade her, so she had to send me from Hanoi to live with her so that the two of us could keep each other company morning and evening to ease the loneliness.
I lived with my grandmother from the age of 6. Apart from holidays, Tet, or weekends when my parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins came to visit, most of the time it was just the two of us living together. In my mind, she was like a second mother; every aspect of my daily eating, living, and studying was cared for by her. I was extremely attached to her; wherever she went, I demanded to follow, to the point where the whole village and neighborhood called me 'Grandma's tail'. I still remember, when I was little and followed Grandma to the market, the snack I liked most was bánh cốm, so whenever we passed by the stall selling 'bánh cốm' (green rice cake) run by the kind old lady wearing a crow-beak scarf, Grandma would immediately buy me a few. I still remember that the 'bánh cốm' from the flat basket back then was very simple; it was not packed in a beautiful cardboard box like now but was only wrapped on the outside by a thin layer of nylon. However, the flavor of that 'bánh cốm' was truly delicious; it was both gently fragrant with the scent of new green rice and sweet and nutty with mung bean mixed with sugar, plus a bit of crunchiness from thinly shaved fresh coconut, making me crave it deeply every time I remembered it.
The special birthday gift when I was 6 years old was the simple nylon-wrapped 'bánh cốm' my grandmother bought for me
Time flies like a shuttle; many people might not remember what their 6th birthday gift was, but I remember it as vividly as if it were yesterday—it was that simple 'bánh cốm' wrapped in banana leaves from my grandmother. That year, my birthday coincided with my parents having to go on a long business trip, so they could not pick me up to Hanoi, only sending a letter and a birthday gift box for me. I felt incredibly lonely, sneakily crawling into the kitchen to sob quietly. Grandmother went looking for me, calling me again and again, but I just sat stubbornly in the kitchen refusing to come out. Then she found her way down to the kitchen, saw me sitting with my knees pulled up, my mouth pouting, and my eyes red, but she did not scold or punish me at all; she just sat down silently and hugged me. Then she slowly pulled out of her pocket a simple nylon-wrapped 'bánh cốm'—the one I loved to eat most—telling me it was my birthday present. I hugged my grandmother tightly and cried out loud... That birthday gift of hers, though just a simple 'bánh cốm', left a deep mark in my mind, so that even now, despite having gone through many birthdays and receiving gifts much more valuable than that, I still feel it is the most meaningful and special gift—a sweet gift filled with the love between a grandmother and her grandchild.
On my 25th birthday, Grandmother still gave me the simple gift I had loved all those years...
Now I am a 25-year-old girl, and Grandma is over 70, her health has declined, and her memory is not as sharp as before. My mother, my aunt, and I had to persuade her for a long time before she agreed to move to Hanoi to live with us. Because of her old age, she forgets many things, but she never forgets my birthday. She still diligently carries her basket to go find and buy me the 'bánh cốm' that I have loved all these years. Bao Minh Receiving the small, pretty, square, green 'bánh cốm' wrapped in a transparent layer of nylon from Grandma's hands, my tears suddenly welled up. I cherished and inhaled the scent of the pretty 'bánh cốm' in Grandma's eyes, which were overflowing with love. To me, a birthday gift does not need to be expensive; just a simple 'bánh cốm' filled with Grandma's love, that is enough!
