My childhood was as pleasant as many other children born after the Vietnamese war. It pertained to small thatched houses, where my father, mother, and siblings gathered around in a small room. It was a fresh, lovely house although it was not the most comfortable as the five of us didn’t have much living space.
At that time, our family earned money from growing beds of vegetables, raising cattle, and especially from my mother’s garden of flowers which would be sold at Tet – the traditional holiday of Vietnam. I can never forget the New Year’s Eve, when the spirit of Tet spread throughout the people, making the streets more and more packed as the night went on. But our Tet only began as the flowers were all sold, usually by the end of the 30th when the freeze of the night came.