The day I came back to my hometown, I saw the pictures of children bringing small hands to catch the rain drops from the porch, I suddenly recalled my childhood days with so many memories with my friends. neighbors ...
That day, we were all children of the same age, living in the same neighborhood and having been close since childhood. Every time the school year ends, when I see the dazzling sun and hear the cicadas in the wind, my friends and I jubilantly "plan" for the summer days. The summer in the countryside was peaceful, but the day-to-day laughter of our children kept on laughing.
I remember the hands that were covered with kitchen ash when we fought over each baked potato before it was fully cooked. Everyone's face is dirty, but their eyes are full of joy, enjoying the sweetness of each piece of potato.
Then in the afternoons, the wind blew loudly, and the wind shook every branch of the mango, which was full of ripe fruits. Nearby, at the shady yard of the almond tree in front of my house, my friends and I were drunk with colorful marbles. Each little hand cradling marbles as a valuable asset. Suddenly all stopped the fun and scrambled to run when listening to the sound of mango falling "thud" on the ground. Those who collected it before were overjoyed, but before they could eat anything, they were chased by the remaining guys. Moments have turned into a vibrant "battle". After all, when no longer had the strength to "fight", everyone sat flat on the ground, their faces flushed and gasping for breath. But as usual, we shared the mango equally, each of us with our share. Hands of mud and dirt wiped their clothes into hastily, held them out to receive each ripe piece of mango and devour it.
On rainy days, we all have the opportunity to gather to go to the garden to "hunt" each toad to bring my mother to congee. The image of the pot of porridge cooked with delicious smoky green beans makes everyone craving and determined to go on a mission. Each one throws a small sack on his shoulder to hold his "achievements". It rained heavily, each flock came out from inside the cave, every one looked round and plump. We continued to compete against each other to catch more toads. Sometimes too "aggressive", fighting for a toad that all fell, and then laugh again because the whole body is covered with mud, everyone looks like a "bugaboo". Sometimes I was engrossed in playing and I almost came home to the rain.
After gathering the "loot" we just earned, while waiting for my mother and the sisters to make the toads, we also started to make our own favorite food, the toasted grill. At the time of making toad meat, we were told by adults very carefully to remove skin, remove all organs and wash thoroughly because the toad liver is very poisonous. Each one cares for his "product". Then all gathered around the fire, the hands were rubbing with cold, just turning the island back and forth on the charcoal to cook quickly. The smell of roasted toad smells from the smoke of the kitchen, making them feel ravenous. In just a few moments, the toad meat was fully browned, we squatted on the ground around the charcoal stove, tearing the toad with dots and sweet salt. And at last the important moment has come, the pot of porridge cooked to reach my cheeks lifted down, scooped out a cup and sprinkle a little more pepper on, looks delicious. We passed each other hot soup porridge, our eyes looked at each other, eating and laughing happily.
The small hands that once shared sweetness with each other now have to worry about family life or are struggling in the land. But perhaps no one can forget the smooth memories of a childhood gone.
Sometimes craving for mangoes, I just need to drive to the market to buy, but why not find as sweet as the mangoes that we used to fight in the old days ...
