A Special Day

Today is Vietnam teacher’s day. I’ve been waiting for this since the beginning of the year because it is just so special. On this day every year, teachers are commemorated by millions of Vietnamese.

In schools, people usually hang good wishes on the wall engulfing the school’s premises, classes’ walls and even on trees and pillars. Every school celebrates it by organizing a ceremony. It’s accompanied by students’ performances which are carefully selected days before. All the retired teachers are invited to return to the school to be honored and remembered. The principal comes up the stage, gives out a speech about the days and its special meaning. After all, students will be released to express their appreciation to their beloved teachers.

Joining the flow of students, I also returned to my secondary school on this special day. Many of them were smiling and laughing. They really enjoyed it. To them, it is like a chance to escape school pressure, to have a date with friends or simply to go off with family on a picnic to the peaceful countryside. However, to me, it is really a day I had been waiting for to meet my old teachers, give them a hug and tell them I had been living and how much I missed and loved them.

Walking along the corridor on the second floor, I stopped, tiptoed and pulled a leaf off the tree in front of my classroom. I never know its name but we used to call it, “Big Brother.” Its shade spread and covered enough for us in every P.E. periods. My classroom was a bit darker. The school didn’t use it anymore. Dusting off the dust-covered decks, I could feel as if I was standing here not as a stranger but as a student of this class where I used to write, sit and even stand and walk on these desks. Memories I have not sensed for a long time flashed through my mind. Feelings blocked my senses. I have returned finally. All but the old happy days has returned finally.

I cried. A tear dropped, spreading slowly on the dusty desk.