Oh, Mother, pay attention to the cattle, they are experiencing another round of snowfall!

Mom, I want to tell you: I dislike snowfall, never liked it, even if one day you don't have to raise cattle anymore.

The bone-chilling cold in this capital city makes me reminisce about you and Dad. Despite the biting cold here, I know it's much colder back home. I vividly remember those bone-chilling winter days, where many houses in the neighborhood lost their most valuable possession, also my dearest friend, the buffalo.

And that winter, how could I forget the tears that shattered your heart when the cold heartlessly took away our only buffalo. Today, sitting in this small corner where the city is chilling to the bone, even terrifyingly colder than the weather, I feel empathy for the people in the remote highlands. They endure the most dreadful cold air and happen to be the most intriguing places for the younger generation. They flock there – to see – to laugh – to take photos, fulfilling the dream they've longed for, seen in romantic movies on the internet and TV with the most dreamy setting: snowfall.

I can imagine the scene of 'some cry – some laugh' there, Mom. I envision babies shivering by the fireside, lips turning purple from the cold. Then I see your image: eyes gone wild from the cold, the most valuable possession at risk due to the natural disasters from Mother Nature; because of the snowfall...

And then, I see a more 'vibrant' picture from them – those people called 'travel enthusiasts' that you've never heard of, interesting and knowledgeable. They wear outfits cozier than ever, laughing, happy to witness the snowflakes unintentionally covering your house; they take photos and they're content. But that's not enough, Mom, they want more, even wish for snow to cover your cattle shed all year round; they want to turn your village into a 'snow paradise,' a place where learning can come freely – to see – to laugh and take photos.

Feeling deep empathy for my mother and those struggling with this 'double chill.' The first lessons my mother taught me included the wisdom of 'one horse in pain, the whole carriage abandons the grass.' In school, I encountered similar lessons. I learned not to laugh when a friend or someone was going through hardship, not to find joy in others' pain. Yet, they...

And I know, beyond them, there are many others yearning to be like them, praying day and night for snowfall, wishing the sky to be as cold as London, as Moscow... And I know who they are, Mom!

I appreciate my mother for instilling in me the lesson of love and sharing, allowing me to sit here at this moment and write these lines for her. The final thing I want to say to my mother is that I don't like snowfall, never liked it, even if one day my mother no longer has to raise cattle.

Oh, Mom, pay attention to the herd, 'they' are still expecting more snowfall!

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Source: Travel guide Mytour – By Cao Dao Viet