Explore the top 10 analytical essays on the scene where the two sisters, Lien, await the train in the short story "Hai đứa trẻ" by Thạch Lam

"Each story by Thạch Lam is like a lyrical poem, with a calm tone yet filled with love, sincerity, and the author's sensitivity to the subtle changes in nature and human hearts." Indeed, this is true. Thạch Lam's writing does not focus on dramatic events but delves deeply into the emotional landscapes of the characters. The scene where the two sisters, Liên and An, wait for the train is a perfect example of the author's keen ability to capture the most delicate shifts in their emotions.

Liên and An are children who once lived in the city but had to move to a poor rural town after their family faced hardships. Despite their young age, they contribute to their family's livelihood by managing a small shop in the market. Around them are other humble lives, such as chị Tí and her struggling child, and bác xẩm who adds a melancholic soundtrack with his guitar, all trying to survive. Life here is monotonous and unfulfilling, yet the people still cling to hopes of a brighter future: "Those people in the darkness are waiting for something better for their poor daily lives."

Every night, even when exhausted, both Liên and An stay awake to witness the last event of the day—the passing of the late-night train from Hanoi. Why do these innocent children struggle to stay awake to see the train? Is it because they follow their mother's instructions? Or do they want to sell more candy or cakes to the passing strangers? But it's not just that. "Liên and An stay awake for another reason, because they want to see the train as the final event of the night." In their waiting, there is a burning desire, an unconscious longing that is deeply felt in their hearts. Before going to sleep, An asks her sister: "When the train comes, wake me up." Their longing is intense, even if they don't fully understand it. The train brings with it a different world, a world of light and sound.

As they wait for the train, Liên lets her soul drift into the universe, absorbing the beauty of nature under the night sky. Through the gaps in the leaves, "thousands of stars still twinkle" in the sky, and the tiny flowers fall softly on her shoulders. Liên's mind floats with feelings she can't fully grasp. The sound of the district's drum and bác Siêu's announcement, "The light is out there," break the stillness of the night, preparing for the final event—the train from Hanoi gradually appears. First, there is the eerie blue flame, like a ghost light, followed by the white smoke rising from afar. Liên calls An awake, and together they carefully observe every movement of the train. Liên's voice calling out, "Wake up, An. The train is coming," is not just a wake-up call but a joyous exclamation, urging An to rise and experience the fleeting moment of the train passing by.

The moment the train arrives, both sisters feel an unusual joy, a sense of elation, even though it is only a brief passing. But that moment is enough for their sensitive hearts to capture every detail: "The well-lit train carriages illuminated the road. Liên briefly saw the luxurious upper-class carriages crowded with people, with golden coins and shiny windows." The train, in that brief moment, became a distant red dot, disappearing behind the bamboo grove. Little An innocently noticed that the train today seemed less crowded than usual. Liên, too, noticed the emptiness and dimness of the train: "Tonight's train is less crowded than usual, with fewer people, and it seems dimmer." Even though this train was less lively and dimmer than usual, it still came from Hanoi, bringing with it a world of light, joy, and happiness. Liên's heart swelled with joy, remembering the days when she drank cool, colorful drinks and thinking of a bright, sparkling Hanoi.

Every night, Liên and An wait for the train. Even when they are sleepy, they must wait for the train to pass before they can sleep. This is not a random or meaningless act, but rather a deep, essential need for them. Behind it lies a desire for a better life, a longing for a brighter, happier future. The image of the passing train, then vanishing, brings them back to their warm childhood memories. The longing for the train also reflects the children's intense desire for a change in their lives. Why do we place this yearning in Liên and An and not in chị Tí or bác Siêu? It is because they are children, the seedlings, the future of life. Thus, the expression of the desire for change is more meaningful and evocative when represented through these two characters.

Through the scene of waiting for the train, Thạch Lam also expresses his compassion for the humble and unfortunate lives, trapped in a monotonous and hopeless existence. At the same time, he cherishes and values the beautiful dreams and desires of Liên and An, and the people of the rural town. Moreover, through the night train scene, Thạch Lam sends a heartfelt call that stirs the reader's soul: change life to make it more beautiful, create a healthy environment for children to live happy lives.

With his skillful depiction of psychology and scenery, the train scene leaves a lasting impression on readers. As the book ends, readers are still moved by the destinies of those struggling in the rural town. At the same time, they honor the heartfelt dreams of a different life, of a change in fate.

"Within the Self-Strengthening Literary Group, Hoàng Đạo was the theorist, Nhất Linh was the practitioner, Khái Hưng challenged the old ways to move toward a new life... while Thạch Lam was a person who loved his people, deeply sympathetic to their suffering." Thạch Lam's writing style is gentle yet profound, and the characters in his works cannot escape the harsh reality of life. He shows an immense love for his fellow countrymen, and though his characters live in poverty, they continuously strive and hold on to a glimmer of hope. The short story "Hai đứa trẻ" (The Two Children), with the scene of the sisters Liên and An waiting for the train, is a testament to this.

Liên and An once lived in Hanoi - a bustling and lively city full of new experiences. There, their mother took them to West Lake, they enjoyed delicious foods, but when their father lost his job, the family had to move to the rural town, where life was tough and poverty-stricken. The people and the life there were completely different from Liên's past. Now, the two sisters are tasked with watching over a small convenience store, selling trivial items to contribute to the family income, though it hardly makes a difference. The environment here, from dusk to night, is gloomy, quiet, and depressing. The people around Liên also live in hardship, struggling just to get by. This causes Liên's mood to be perpetually sad, a melancholy that seeps deep into the sensitive heart of the young girl.

As night falls, when people long for rest after a tiring day, Liên, An, and the others try to stay awake to wait for the late train from Hanoi to pass by. Even though both girls are "so sleepy their eyes are closing" and An’s eyelids are about to fall, she still asks her sister, "When the train comes, please wake me up." While An naps, Liên gently fans her and lets her soul drift into nature. From above, she watches "thousands of stars still sparkling" in the sky, a firefly clinging to the leaves, and even notices the delicate fall of the flowers from the tree onto her shoulders. These small details leave Liên with a vague, inexplicable feeling. She is a person with keen and sensitive observations. She also watches the people around her; the silence is broken by the distant sounds of the town's night watch drum, adding to the stillness and quiet. People like Mother and Daughter Tí, the family of Uncle Siêu, and Uncle Xẩm... all stay awake waiting for the train.

But why? Why do they wait for the train to pass by? Is it for the chance to sell goods, as their mother suggested, "to sell something, maybe someone will buy?" No, Liên and An don’t expect much from that because they know the customers would only buy matches or cigarettes at most. They stay awake for another reason, they want to witness the train as the final event of the night, "those people in the dark are waiting for something bright to give them hope for their hard lives."

The train represents their hopes for the future. It brings something unfamiliar to Liên, An, and the people in the poor town, contrasting with the dim lights of Tí’s lamp, Siêu’s weak flame, and Liên's faint glimmer. The bright lights of the train, the gleam of bronze and silver, the red sparks floating in the air, all pierce the dark sky of the impoverished town. The sound of the train’s whistle from afar, the screeching of the wheels, and the noise from the passengers shatter the silence and sadness of the space. Liên, An, and the others stay awake for this. They eagerly await the train because it brings them a dream, a hope for a better life in the future.

On the other hand, the train brings Liên back to memories of old Hanoi, "the Hanoi of the past, bright, joyful, and lively"—a time when her family was well-off, and the two sisters could play freely. The train is both a beautiful memory of her childhood and a symbol of hope for tomorrow. Thạch Lam’s subtle and profound understanding of this longing, which is both pitiful and admirable, allows his characters to maintain hope despite their poverty, never giving up on their dreams. This detail evokes memories of "Vợ nhặt" (The Picked Wife) by Kim Lân, where the elderly woman comforts her son and daughter-in-law with hope for a brighter future. She simply says, "You two need to work hard, and then heaven will be kind to you. No one is rich forever, and no one is poor forever." Even in the harshest reality, where hunger and poverty shadow people’s lives and they are on the brink of despair, the old woman still has hope and reassures the young couple with faith. This humanistic value remains in the story, creating a lasting literary work.

Thạch Lam has a clear view of the purpose of literature: "To me, literature is not a way to escape or forget. On the contrary, it is a powerful and noble weapon we have, to expose and change a false and cruel world, while making the reader’s heart purer and more enriched." The scene of Liên and An waiting for the train illuminates his literary declaration. With his romantic writing style, lyrical narrative, and the skillful depiction of the characters' inner world, Thạch Lam successfully portrays the scene of the sisters waiting for the train with great detail and vitality, leaving the readers with deep thoughts and reflections on the importance of hope in life.

The story 'Hai đứa trẻ' is a classic example of Thạch Lam's writing style. Through seemingly trivial events, the author delicately addresses deep, meaningful issues concerning human life and society. Thạch Lam's pen is filled with empathy for those suffering in silence. A particularly poignant image is that of the night train passing through the village street, which symbolizes the hopes and desires of characters like Liên and An. Those who have read 'Hai đứa trẻ' will surely remember this image, as it captures the longing of the two children. The image of Liên and An staying up night after night, waiting for the train, becomes a haunting memory once the book is closed.

(Why do they stay awake waiting for the train?) The context for the night train is set against the backdrop of a quiet, desolate town as evening falls into night. From the melancholy of the evening, the surroundings fade into the oppressive darkness that weighs heavily on the unfortunate lives of the townspeople. Life here is dull and vague, filled with an intangible sadness that pervades everything.

– In the vast, dark emptiness of the station, the characters appear as small, silent figures. They move less and think more. Like shadows, they fade into the endless night. They emerge in the darkness of human existence, barely illuminated by faint lights. In this silent world, one wonders if anything can stir or hold them. It might just be the passing train! Against this backdrop, Thạch Lam masterfully depicts the restless anticipation of the children waiting for the night train.

– Liên and An once experienced happiness when their family was well-off in Hanoi. Now, their lives are devoid of light and joy. Day after day, they linger at the small shop, selling mundane items like matches, cigarettes, soap, thread, and needles. Every evening, as the twilight deepens, Liên counts the small coins collected during the day, amidst the incessant hum of mosquitoes. Their lives are monotonous, their spirits drained like the bamboo bench they sit on each evening, contemplating the dullness of life in their town. Every day, they repeat the same cycle, surrounded by the same unfortunate people.

The innocent children can do little to change their fate. All they can do is look around, gaze up at the sky, hoping for a glimmer of light that might make their world less bleak. Every source of light marks a moment in time, drawing them closer to what they yearn for most: the train from Hanoi, which stops for just a moment at the small station in their village. They have waited for the train throughout their dull day. The longing began as evening shadows fell, when the distant sound of drums filled the air and the western horizon glowed like red embers. They are delighted when they see chị Tí lighting the flower lantern on the water bench, the glow from bác Siêu's noodle stall, and the bustle of bác xẩm's family. These are the little steps that bring them closer to the train, to the joy they have been waiting for. Each night, there is only one train from Hanoi, and it stops at the station for only a few minutes... so they can't afford to miss it. Despite being sleepy, both Liên and An fight against the drowsiness that comes naturally to children, patiently waiting for the train. Their anticipation is heartfelt and moving.

There is a deep, unspoken reason behind the children's actions. Thạch Lam's empathy for their lives, his desire to connect with the characters, drives him to express their silent yearning with all the tenderness he can muster. This story is also a personal reflection for Thạch Lam, as he recounts memories of his own childhood: "I didn’t realize that my sister Sáu had such a sharp memory, like the story she wrote about the two sisters waiting for the night train and then going to bed. That year, I was only nine, and my sister was eight." Thạch Lam understood and cherished the children's longing, so he described the scene of the train in vivid detail. Although the train is still enveloped in darkness, its presence is announced by the distant sound of the whistle, carried on the wind.

– The train is first seen from afar, with the green light and the whistle echoing. Then the train 'rumbles towards them,' its whistle shrieking. The sound of the whistle, the squealing of the wheels on the tracks, and the noise of passengers drown out the monotonous, quiet rhythm of the town. The train makes a strong impression, lifting the village out of its dark, stagnant existence, even if only for a brief moment. Thus, the train becomes a symbol, a source of hope, a longing for the people of this poor town. When the train arrives, An "sits up" and Liên "helps her sister stand" to carefully observe every detail—"the thumping sound" of the train, the white smoke, and the glinting "cars," "people," and "coins". It seems as though the two sisters are trying to take in every image, sound, and light of the passing train. The children are mesmerized by it. As the train continues its journey, the children remain entranced, following the glowing embers of coal that scatter on the tracks, watching the faint glow of the green light on the last car fade behind the bamboo fence. Now, in contrast to the blazing train, the night and the monotonous life of the village seem even more desolate.

– From this glimpse and the dream-like following of the train, one wonders if the people of this village harbor a desire to escape the suffocating atmosphere, to yearn for something beyond the mundane. The train is like a flash of lightning. It comes and goes, belonging to a world full of light, sound, and movement. It is a distant dream, a symbol of hope, of aspiration. People may be poor, but they can never lose their dreams, their hopes, and their desires.

Thạch Lam not only captures the stark lives of the small characters in a dimly lit world but also emphasizes the intense longing of the two innocent souls. Liên struggles to stay awake, while An, having waited so long in the dull town, can no longer stay awake. She rests her head on Liên's arm, her eyes heavy with sleep, murmuring, "When the train arrives, wake me up." The longing to wait is profound. The author wants to show readers just how much these children long for light.

(The symbolic meaning of the train) – The train represents joy and anticipation in the village. It is the only joy they experience after a dull, tiresome day. The light, wealth, and excitement it brings symbolize a world of brightness, in stark contrast to the dark, backward life of the village. For the people of the village, the train is a glimmer of hope, a dream of a better life, filled with brightness, warmth, and prosperity. It stirs their imaginations and fills them with a longing for a different, brighter world.

The train is also a symbol of the past, a cherished memory. "Liên silently dreamed. Hanoi was far away, bright, lively, and noisy." Liên and An had once lived a life of comfort in Hanoi. The train is a symbol of the light of childhood memories, something that Liên holds dear. For the two sisters, it represents a comforting reminder of their happy life in Hanoi, a rare moment of solace in the hardships of their current life. The train connects the past, the present, and the future. It shows that, despite their poverty, the people of this village are genuine, they love life, and they dream of a better world. Thạch Lam deeply respects and cherishes their yearning to reach the light, to escape from the confines of their narrow, monotonous existence. He sends the message that we must never allow life to be drowned out by hardship. We must live fully, striving to build a better, happier world. This is the valuable, humanistic message of the story.

– Compared to the entire story, Thạch Lam dedicates only a few brief passages to describing the train. In fact, the lack of symmetry in the depiction emphasizes the story's message. The intense longing for the train reflects the people's monotonous, weary, and pitiable existence. This theme is also present in the works of Nam Cao. Perhaps they are all living in the same stagnant pond, moving in repetitive patterns, as in the poem by Huy Cận:

Forever circling between a few postures

Coming or going, the same faces again

So familiar that it becomes sadly amusing

Repeating the same old tales.

Fortunately, life still holds a little brightness, a little noise that brings joy. The people of the village still wait and hope that something will come, as we all do in life. Just as we all wait for the train of our own life, when we read 'Hai đứa trẻ,' we feel the lingering sorrow of Thạch Lam. This is his deep sympathy for the lives of those who will never know light or happiness. As for Liên, the author wants to tell us that the train will always awaken her soul, guiding her toward the future and helping her rise above the monotony of daily life to dream. This is the compassionate heart of the author, as if pleading to save human lives, especially the lives of children.

Through these lives and their longing for the train, Thạch Lam breathes life into the fates of a time. They are not necessarily the oppressed, exploited souls, but through their lives, Thạch Lam evokes empathy and respect for their hopes of a better life. Thus, the story holds both realistic and humanitarian value.

Childhood is filled with memories of waiting. Who hasn't eagerly awaited the summer vacation to play freely, the New Year's Eve to wear new clothes, or simply waited for a few candies when grandmother returns from the market? Through waiting, we understand the excitement, anxiety, and hope of the sisters Liên in the short story 'Hai đứa trẻ.' Thạch Lam captures all the joys and sorrows of childhood, and the ordinary dreams of life, within the scene of waiting for the midnight train from Hanoi to pass through the sisters’ poor town.

The story begins with the sound of a distant drumbeat and the image of a small town's market closing in the evening. The scene paints a narrow, confined space, populated by people who are lonely and pitiful. There, two sisters, Liên and An, sit daily by a small grocery store, waiting for their mother. Each evening, the dull croak of frogs and the buzzing of mosquitoes fill the air, sounds that seem small and insignificant but are swallowed up by the thick night. The darkness gradually envelops the space, becoming so dense that 'Liên’s eyes are gradually filled with darkness, and the melancholy of the rural evening seeps into her innocent soul.' The impoverished town momentarily shrinks next to the dim light of sister Tí’s shop, and neither the small oil lamp nor the fire in Siêu’s house can dispel the encompassing gloom.

The sisters sit there, huddled, eyes wet with anticipation, waiting for the train from Hanoi. Yes, Hanoi—the place where the sisters once had a comfortable life with their parents. The 'bright and sparkling region' in their memories feels golden, both real and elusive. Hanoi is beautiful and peaceful, unlike the dull life in their poor, isolated town. The repetitive monotony of their lives has turned them, once full of hope, into shadows hidden by the night.

Perhaps Liên is luckier than Tí, Xẩm, and Siêu because she still has a beautiful memory of the bright place, a memory that allows her moments of longing and dreaming. But this also brings her quiet sorrow. When one knows happiness, even the dullness of everyday life becomes harder to bear. The souls of these two sensitive, innocent children deserve to dream and yearn. The reason they wait for the train, even though their eyes are heavy with sleep, is not to sell more goods or hope for gifts from relatives. What Liên and An wait for is the light that the Hanoi train carries, the joyous past, and the childhood they should have had. For them, the train’s delay means that the day’s final activity has not yet ended.

Unlike her older sister, An is still an innocent child, though her excitement remains unwavering, even as the night grows late. An repeatedly reminds Liên to call her when the train arrives, and the moment 'An sits up, rubbing his eyes to wake himself' reveals the maturity of a child who has already had to leave the comforts of city life. An is not like the children who whine when awakened from sleep. For him, the train is more than a good night’s sleep. Only a deep passion can make a child wait with such hope. Understanding the psychology of the two sisters, Thạch Lam shows his sensitivity and ability to understand children's minds and characters.

The first sign of the train’s arrival is not the sound of the engine or the train’s horn, but a 'blue flame, close to the ground like a will-o’-the-wisp.' This is the light Liên has been longing for. Finally, the wait is over, and the sisters use all their senses to hear, see, and feel the approaching train. In response to their anticipation, the train seems to understand the feelings of the people in the small town, moving slowly and gently. The train, like the heart of the writer, breathes compassion into the lives of the small people. The train comes into view, its lights shining brightly, illuminating the road. Liên catches a fleeting glimpse of the luxurious first-class cars, filled with people whose gold and silver shine. Until the train appears, the only light in the story is the dim oil lamp and the fire. But when the train arrives, a dazzling light finally breaks through the gloom, even if only for a brief moment.

For a moment, the entire town is not only brightened but also filled with the lively sounds from the train’s carriages—'the whistle’s shrill cry, the passengers’ chatter.' The noise from the train contrasts sharply with the silent, monotonous life of the poor town. 'In the darkness, these people hope for something bright to lift their lives.' When the train finally fades behind the bamboo grove, leaving only small points of light, the day comes to a close. All the waiting, regrets, and hopes leave with that light.

Thạch Lam skillfully portrays the psychological state of the two children through their wait for the midnight train. Combined with his gentle, poetic writing style, the story paints a picture of two children and the small people of the poor town, silently submerged in darkness. The image of the train bringing light from Hanoi represents the writer’s compassion for forgotten lives. The author wishes that all they hope for is to escape the dull and gloomy existence. Through the detail of waiting for the train, Thạch Lam aims to awaken the desire to live in souls weary from the times. The real fear is not the absence of hope but the lack of courage to hope and wait.

Although written during the romantic literary movement, Thạch Lam focuses on the small, isolated people. By successfully constructing the characters Liên and An in the scene of waiting for the midnight train, the writer expresses his humanist thoughts and compassion. Though Liên and An, along with the train, are no longer present, the message Thạch Lam imparts remains vital in life: 'Light the flame of hope for every life, even if it is just a small light in the moment.'

The two children is one of the most remarkable and representative works of Thach Lam. It is a lyrical short story without a plot. The characters are lyrical figures, and the entire story revolves around the emotions of two sisters, Liên being the main character. Thach Lam's characters are typically not deep thinkers; they merely express emotions or fleeting moments of joy or sadness. They often sit quietly, listening to their inner thoughts without analyzing or presenting philosophical ideas, unlike characters in Nam Cao's works.

However, behind the world of characters and their emotions, one can subtly perceive the author-narrator figure. This figure is thoughtful and expresses profound humanitarian ideas with a soft and gentle voice. The work is divided into three sections: Section one: Liên's mood as she observes the late afternoon scene in the village.

Section two: Liên's mood as she faces the nightfall in the village. Section three: Liên and her sister’s longing to witness the train pass through the village. It is in the third section that the work’s theme is fully expressed and deeply felt. This theme answers the question: "Why do Liên and her sister stay awake every night to watch the train pass?"

However, literature is a whole. To answer the question above, one must connect the third section with the first and second sections. These three parts are interconnected through Liên’s emotional progression, ultimately emphasizing the story’s message in the conclusion. The first section portrays Liên’s sadness as she faces the fading beauty of nature and the declining lives of the villagers at twilight. The mood is clearly expressed in the lines: "Liên sat quietly beside a few black-tinted trees; her eyes slowly filled with darkness, and the melancholy of the rural evening seeped into her innocent soul. Liên didn’t know why, but she felt a vague sadness at the hour of day’s end."

The evening's end is first signaled by the distant sound of a drum calling the afternoon to a close. Though the western sky glows red like burning fire, it is merely the pink hue of "an ember on the verge of extinction." Darkness gradually encroaches... Looking down at the ground, one sees the empty market, where there is no joy like during the busy daytime, but nothing more sorrowful than the deserted market.

From the distant sound of the village to the quiet evening market. The poem from Huy Cận’s *Tràng giang* feels so sad. Sad because all the people have gone, and the noise has ceased. Life seems to wither. The poverty is openly displayed in the waste left behind, while the poor children scavenge through the leftover goods from the vendors...

The familiar people in Liên’s life, too, reflect a decaying existence: Mrs. Tí’s tea stall is empty of customers ("Oh my, does it matter whether it’s early or late?") while Liên’s family’s shop is also struggling (“Today’s market day, but we haven’t sold anything”). The image of the crazy old man walking unsteadily adds to the hopeless scene: "He staggered into the darkness, his laughter echoing faintly toward the village." The second section conveys Liên’s sadness and frustration with the monotonous, bleak lives of the villagers.

Everything repeats like the nights before, just as it always has. The streets and alleys are filled with darkness. The houses are shut tight, except for a few shops still open, with narrow streams of light peeking through. After Mrs. Tí’s tea stall comes a noodle stall, and Liên and her sister recognize it from afar as a tiny, flickering light "floating in the night, disappearing, then reappearing." Then, there is Mr. Xẩm’s family with their empty tin basin and the child playing in the sand, picking up dirty rubbish. These people seem to live in perpetual hardship, their future uncertain. Their existence seems merely to wait for something lucky that will never come: "Those people in the darkness await something brighter for their miserable everyday lives."

The most striking image in this section is the portrayal of dark, hopeless lives. What is remarkable here is that the darkness is described through light—the dim light from Mrs. Tí’s stall flickering weakly, contrasting feebly against the vast, dark universe covering the desolate village. It’s no coincidence that this short story, though just a few pages long, repeatedly mentions the light from Mrs. Tí’s stall, seven times in total. It becomes a symbol of the dim, struggling lives of the poor villagers, seemingly destined to be buried in the darkness of the dying village, forgotten by life.

The first two sections set the stage for the third. Disheartened by the village’s grim existence, Liên and her sister find a fleeting escape: they eagerly await a train passing through the village. This escape exists not in reality but in their imagination. The train represents a different world—a world bright, noisy, joyous, and luxurious. "It is the world they have always dreamed of." Suddenly, they live in that world, meaning they escape the dark, silent, desolate, monotonous, and hopeless life of the village. But even this escape, though only imaginary, is short-lived. The night and its boundless silence soon embrace everything again. The melancholy returns with the dim light of Mrs. Tí’s lamp flickering in the dark. "Liên lay down beside her sister, resting her head on her arm and closing her eyes (...) Liên felt herself living among so many distant things, like the dim light of Mrs. Tí’s lamp, which only illuminated a small patch of earth."

Through Liên’s emotional journey, what message does the author convey to the reader? Thach Lam’s message, as always, is subtle, gentle, yet deeply impactful, leaving a lasting impression: it is a voice full of compassion for the small, suffering lives, trapped in endless, stagnant, unhappy, and hopeless cycles, their existence seemingly lost in the shadows of a forgotten society. In that old society, so many people lived like this—never knowing light or happiness, never dreaming of anything more than a train passing through a desolate village marking their life’s end.

This is a new aspect of humanitarianism in Vietnamese literature from the period around 1930-1945 when writers began to awaken to individual consciousness and the meaningful existence of each person. They became highly sensitive to the plight of those who lived in perpetual darkness, never knowing the joy of life.

Thanh Lam is one of the outstanding short story writers in modern Vietnamese prose. He was a member of the Self-Reliant Literary Group, but his style stands out as distinct from the other writers in the group. While the works of the Self-Reliant group often carry a sense of romantic sorrow, Thanh Lam's writing is infused with a realistic sadness, like a ‘fragrance of the yellow apricot flower’ drawn from life's woes.

The short story “Hai đứa trẻ” (Two Children), published in the collection *Nắng trong vườn* (1938), is a representative work of Thanh Lam’s style. It is a melancholic and lyrical short story, reflecting deep emotion. This style is particularly evident in the depiction of the rural town setting and the character Liên’s mood as she waits for the train. Thanh Lam’s short stories are lyrical, realistic, and emotional, with no complex plot but filled with gentle, poignant moments, like a poem. The portrayal of the rural town unfolds with the passage of time, from late afternoon to evening and through the late-night train scene.

The scene in the rural town at night, as Liên waits for the train, is described in a way that reflects the monotony and poverty of her life. Liên, a young girl whose family had to move from Hanoi to a poor rural town after her father lost his job, shows resilience and responsibility. Despite her young age, Liên helps her mother manage a small grocery store and cares for her little sister An. Liên is gentle, compassionate, and sentimental, and her feelings are conveyed through four scenes in the rural town, representing different emotional stages: late afternoon, nightfall, waiting for the train, and the late-night train.

The natural scene of the rural town at dusk is depicted through Liên's sensitive and delicate perspective. It is described as “a calm evening like a lullaby, with the sound of frogs croaking and the scent of the fields carried in by the light breeze. Inside the shop, mosquitoes began to buzz.” In this scene, there is a mixture of romantic serenity and a sense of poverty and hardship. The image of the evening evokes Liên’s sadness: “Liên sat quietly beside a few black lacquered boxes; her eyes filled with the growing darkness, and the sorrow of the rural evening soaked into her innocent soul. Liên didn’t know why, but she felt a deep sadness as the day came to an end.” It is hard to distinguish whether the external sadness influences Liên’s internal world or if her own sadness pervades the surroundings.

The sadness here is deep in Liên’s heart, and only someone as sensitive as her can truly feel it. Though Liên doesn’t live a life as harsh as others, her fate is perhaps the most tragic. The bright past of Liên and her sister has faded, while the present is dull, dark, and hopeless. Life in the rural town is slowly decaying, consumed by poverty and hopelessness. How can the young hearts of Liên and her sister not feel sorrow when witnessing such scenes? However, the sorrow is only vaguely reflected in Liên’s eyes, “gradually filled with darkness,” soaking into her soul. The rural town, like a stage, only performs a monotonous, sorrowful scene with no change in either the people or the environment. This life continues to “decay, erode, and rot away” with no escape.

It evokes the image of “a calm pond of life.” The writer does not directly describe Liên’s emotional state, but through her perspective of the surroundings and the life around her, we see the sadness she feels. In such circumstances, how could Liên and her sister not yearn for something, even if it is vague? The sorrow becomes more poignant. But without hope, how can one live? The late-night train brings a glimmer of hope. The train scene and Liên’s mixed emotions of sadness and joy offer a rare joy for the two sisters. Every night, they eagerly wait for the train.

They do not wait for the train to sell goods, but for the emotional joy it brings. When the train arrives, Liên and An stand up, looking toward the train, and once it passes, “Liên remains silently lost in her thoughts.” The train comes and quickly departs, leaving behind a sense of sorrow. After the train has passed, the rural town returns to the quiet night, even heavier with silence. The joy of the two children flares up and then fades away like a burning coal that ignites and then dwindles in the night. The waiting begins with the evening, continues through the night, and lingers as the town enters the early hours.

The two children await each passing moment, each approaching step of the train: the train is coming, it passes by, and after it leaves, only the red light fades into the distance, disappearing behind the bamboo grove. The darkness once again envelops the town. The portrayal of the rural town—its poverty, monotony, and hopelessness—along with the emotional states of the children, especially Liên, is both direct and indirect. Through the blending of reality and memories, described in a gentle, poetic tone, the writer expresses a deep sympathy for the poor, struggling lives of those trapped in an oppressive, stagnant society.

Through this, the author seems to seek to awaken the lethargic souls, who are fading away, and to spark in them the desire to live a better, more meaningful life, to escape the dark life that buries them. The short story “Hai đứa trẻ” powerfully reflects both the talent and heart of Thạch Lam.

Although Thạch Lam's literary career lasted only five years, he quickly established himself as a unique short story writer. He once said, "Beauty is scattered throughout the universe, hidden in every corner and alley, concealed in the most ordinary things. A writer's job is to discover beauty in unexpected places, to uncover the subtle and hidden beauty of things, so that readers can see and appreciate it." From his short story collection "Sunshine in the Garden," "Two Children" stands out as a typical example of Thạch Lam's distinctive style. In "Two Children," the train-waiting scene symbolizes the pinnacle of Thạch Lam's writing.

Although he was a member of the Tự Lực Văn Đoàn group and the younger brother of Nhất Linh and Hoàng Đạo, Thạch Lam's works followed a unique and fresh path. He showed compassion for the poor classes of society during that time. His writing often delves into the vague, subtle emotions of people. "Two Children" is a story without a plot. The entire narrative unfolds like a slow-moving film of a poor rural town where the two sisters, Liên and An, wait on a summer evening. There are no twists or resolutions, but the story easily touches the reader with a deep, beautiful sadness—the beauty of an ordinary life that Thạch Lam discovered. The train-waiting scene is especially poignant in the short story.

Although Liên and An were exhausted from sleepiness, they always stayed awake to wait for the late-night train from Hanoi. Why? Was it to sell goods, as their mother instructed? Not at all. The two sisters weren't waiting to open their shop for customers like other vendors at the station. Instead, they waited for the train for another reason. So, what was it? Perhaps it was because they wanted to see the train—the last activity of the night. Maybe, because the train brought with it a different world, one very different from the light of Sister Tý's lamp and the flame of Bác Siêu's fire.

The town lay in the dark, deteriorating, poor, and weary, while the train seemed to bring with it a bright, wealthy, joyful, and noisy world. The train represented a different world for the sisters. Liên and An quietly awaited the train, filled with feelings of longing and excitement. They awaited the train as one would eagerly anticipate the sacred moment of New Year's Eve. An, struggling to stay awake, his eyelids heavy, still asked his sister, "When the train arrives, wake me up!" Liên sat still, gazing at the twinkling stars and the falling flowers, her mind alert, filled with a vague, inexplicable feeling. It seemed as though she had detached herself from the harsh reality of daily life and immersed herself in a magical, dreamy world.

Upon seeing the distant light and hearing the train's whistle, Liên quickly woke her brother: "Wake up, An! The train is coming!" Her urgent, excited call was like a joyful shout. The train's whistle echoed, and the train rumbled by. The whole town was illuminated, bright and lively, as Liên helped An stand to watch the train pass. The two sisters eagerly wanted to join the bustling, noisy world of the train. The more excited they were, the more bewildered they became as the train passed them. The train disappeared into the dark night, and the two sisters watched the small light of the last car fade away, disappearing behind the bamboo grove. The train from Hanoi had truly captivated their hearts. After the train passed, An wondered, "Wasn't the train less crowded today, sister?" Liên, still lost in thought, felt a vague sense of wonder. Though the train was quieter and seemed dimmer than usual, Liên felt a joy from the arrival of the train from Hanoi. It took her back to her childhood, to the sweet memories of her early years, and awakened within her a belief in a brighter future.

Every night, Liên and An waited anxiously for the train. To many, it seemed like a trivial, almost meaningless ritual. However, with his deep empathy, Thạch Lam uncovered the hidden emotions and romantic desires of the two sisters. Waiting for the train became a way of life, an essential spiritual need. They waited for the train to return to the sweet, innocent past of childhood. They waited for the train to ignite their intense, bold dreams—the desire to change their lives. This desire was like a fresh young sprout growing from barren soil, like a small star shining brightly in the vast, endless night sky.

Through the train-waiting scene, Thạch Lam expresses both sorrow for the difficult, stagnant lives of the poor, especially the children, and admiration for their yearning for a brighter future. From the lives of the people in the small town, Thạch Lam's writing rings out a heartfelt plea, calling readers to act: Save the children! Change this stagnant life! How can we allow children to live with hope, like fresh green shoots full of life, instead of merely existing and withering away in a dead land? "Two Children" is a vivid, realistic short story filled with noble human emotion and a romantic, poetic quality. Reading "Two Children" by Thạch Lam, one is reminded of Hans Christian Andersen's "The Little Match Girl." Though they come from different countries and eras, both writers share a deep, empathetic love for children.

The train-waiting scene also marks the end of Thạch Lam's delicate, reflective story. It is an image that will forever linger in the reader's mind. As the story concludes, we are left with an infinite feeling of warmth and depth from a heartfelt connection to the homeland and a deep, compassionate love. "Two Children" truly fulfills the mission of true literature by stirring pure emotions and rich humanistic meaning in the reader's heart.

Thạch Lam, a renowned writer in Romantic literature between the 1930s and 1945, was a member of the Self-Reliant Literary Group. However, unlike his peers, his writing was closer to reality rather than being excessively detached from it. His style was gentle yet laced with romantic life themes. Among his works, the short story "Hai đứa trẻ" (Two Children) stands out, telling the story of the two sisters, Liên and An, waiting for a train in a rural district of Hanoi before the Revolution. The plot of the story is simple, yet it evokes deep reflections, especially the scene where the two sisters wait for the train.

The story opens with the sound of the autumn drum, as the dusk settles on the quiet village streets. Soon, flickering lights appear, and life in the village continues as night falls. The two sisters, Liên and An, sit quietly watching the village, their hearts full of thoughts. As they recall Hanoi through the noodle cart of Uncle Siêu, the train approaches. Despite their exhaustion, the sisters and the people of the village wait for something. Liên feels "her soul in peace." The peace and quiet in the darkening scenery are palpable. When the train arrives, from afar, "a green flame like the sky," and "the whistle of the train at night stretches out in the distant wind." The train draws near, and its light illuminates the area. This is the light of the "Signal light," "the brightly lit train car shining down the street," "people, copper, and zinc shining brightly." The sound echoes in the air: the train's track clattering, the whistle shrieking loudly, followed by a burst of white smoke in the distance, and then the faint murmur of passengers.

The train brings dazzling light, overpowering the dim lights of the village, and radiates strongly. It doesn’t only bring light, but also a vibrant sound, a stark contrast to the buzzing of mosquitoes or the croaking of frogs from the distant fields. Through his romantic writing and the contrasting description, Thạch Lam skillfully depicts two completely different worlds to show that the train brings the best things.

But then, the train quickly passes by, leaving behind a sense of loss and nostalgia. As the train fades, it carries with it the bright and lively world. Liên senses the absence of both sound and people when the train passes. It seems she has been so attached to this place for a long time, deeply remembering each moment. As the train moves away, it returns the silence to the village. The passing of the train also makes Liên retreat into her memories of Hanoi, thinking of sweet distant memories. She feels sorrow for the uncertain present, regrets the lost happy past, and dreams of a future.

Through short, interwoven sentences, Thạch Lam vividly conveys Liên's mixed emotions of sorrow and hope. Liên feels "as if she lived amidst great distances." The story’s ending leaves a lingering feeling in the reader's heart. The train arrives with dazzling light, vibrant sound, and life, but it belongs to a different world. It is not the world of Liên, An, or the people in the village. However, as the train passes, it sparks the dreams and desires of the people in the village for a future, though uncertain, which they never give up on. Every day, they wake from morning to night to wait for the train, dreaming of something far away. Yet, their dreams never vanish, they smolder, waiting for something to ignite them.

The short story "Hai đứa trẻ" vividly portrays the inner world of people living in hardship in pre-Revolutionary society. The image of the passing train, though momentary, carries with it light, sound, dreams, and aspirations. It is like a comfort, a never-ending dream, a small light for the stagnant, dark lives of unfortunate people, who still hope for a brighter tomorrow. This is also the message and compassion that Thạch Lam conveys to the characters.

Thạch Lam, born Nguyễn Tường Vinh and later changed to Nguyễn Tường Lân, was born in Hanoi into a civil servant family with aristocratic roots, but his childhood was closely tied to his maternal hometown in Cẩm Giàng, Hải Dương Province. Thạch Lam was a member of the Tự Lực Văn Đoàn group, contributing to the romantic literary movement. Known for his sincerity and sensitivity, these traits had a significant influence on his works.

Thạch Lam's greatest success lies in the short story genre. His stories often lack a conventional plot and instead delve into the inner world of human emotions, capturing delicate, subtle feelings and gentle vibrations. His writing has the tone of a melancholic lyrical poem, with clear, simple prose that reflects his deep affection for people and nature. Notable works include short story collections “Gió đầu mùa,” “Nắng trong vườn,” and “Sợi tóc”; the novel “Ngày mới”; essays and critiques in “Theo dòng”; and his travelogue “Hà Nội băm sáu phố phường.”

One of Thạch Lam’s finest short stories is “Hai đứa trẻ” (Two Children), published in the 1938 collection “Nắng trong vườn.” Like many of his works, it beautifully blends realism with romantic lyricism. The story not only reflects high realism but also conveys a profound humanitarian value. Through this story, Thạch Lam shows deep empathy, understanding, and infinite compassion for the poor, yearning for change in their lives. At the same time, the story highlights Thạch Lam's mastery of the short story form. It has a simple plot, characteristic of a lyrical short story, filled with seemingly insignificant details that are carefully chosen and arranged to express the characters’ emotions. Through these subtle, delicate expressions, the author conveys noble humanistic ideas.

People have always lived with hopes for something brighter, regardless of their circumstances. Living in a poor, dark village, sisters Liên and An, like others in the village, always “hope for something brighter in their miserable daily lives.” This is why, every night, they stay awake to watch the train pass. The train, though fleeting, brings them a different world, a world far from the dim light of Aunt Tí’s lantern and the flickering fire at Mr. Siêu’s shop. It’s not just about following their mother’s advice to sell a little more goods, as “they only buy matches or a packet of tobacco.” Thus, Liên “though sleepy with heavy eyelids, still tries to stay awake,” while An, “though her eyelids are heavy, still reminds her sister, 'Wake me when the train comes.'”

This is likely why the train is described with such detailed attention, moving through time and reflecting the emotions of the two sisters. As the night deepens, Liên stays awake until “the sound of a train whistle echoes through the night, carried by the distant winds.” Liên exclaims, “Wake up, An, the train is coming.” The train stops for a moment, then disappears into the vast night like a shooting star, suddenly streaking across the sky before fading, carrying their dreams and hopes to an unknown place. The sisters continue to watch the small light on the last train car, far away, disappearing behind the bamboo thicket.

Though the train tonight is not crowded and dimmer than usual, Liên still “lingers in her dreams. Hanoi, distant and bright, full of joy and noise. The train seems to have brought a different world through.” For Liên, the image of Hanoi is a memory of her bright childhood, a place of cherished memories she and her sister still yearn for, even if only in fleeting thoughts. These bright memories often leave a lasting imprint on the soul of childhood, like a soft pillow rocking us into a gentle sleep, even if the present is harsh or dull.

Though they have long been away from Hanoi, Liên and An still “clearly remember” their trips around Hoan Kiem Lake, drinking cold drinks and eating delicious treats. They vividly recall “a radiant, shimmering world,” even though, in their current lives, the smell of Mr. Siêu’s pho is “too luxurious, too expensive, something the sisters would never be able to buy.” Yet it still evokes the aroma of those past days... The image of the passing train is a beautiful memory of their childhood, recalled with regret. The brighter and happier the train seems, the more Liên becomes aware of the dull, monotonous, and stagnant life in the poor village. After the train passes, the darkness “envelopes everything.” Liên rests her head on her arm and closes her eyes, letting “the image of the world around her blur in her eyes.” At that moment, she feels the profound sorrow of living in a life that is stuck and unchanging. Liên feels as though she lives surrounded by the distant, unknowable darkness, like Aunt Tí’s small lamp that only lights a small patch of land.” This final image is poignant as Liên drifts into sleep.

But it’s not just sadness and regret that Liên feels; the sisters also experience a sense of excitement and joy as the train approaches, “hoping for something brighter to come into their otherwise poor lives.” The current life around Liên is boring, but the train from Hanoi seems to bring a different world through their poor village. So, even as the train disappears behind the bamboo thicket, Liên continues to “linger in her dreams.” Perhaps Liên holds a hope within her that one day, they will return to the bright, joyous life of Hanoi, a place that in her innocent, fragile heart, is a paradise of dreams. As she watches the train recede, Liên’s heart swells with nostalgia, yearning for a life that is far behind, uncertain and hazy, while the present remains full of darkness.

These emotional states are vague and fleeting, something only a sensitive soul with a compassionate heart, like Thạch Lam’s, could recognize and express. For the sisters, the train from Hanoi represents not only a memory but also the image of a future that is uncertain yet beautiful, like a fairytale dream. It shines brightly for a moment, then fades away, disappearing into the regretful heart of Liên. Still, it brings joy, an emotional comfort that eases the monotony and sadness of their present lives, allowing the two sisters to drift off to sleep after a long, dull day.

There is no dramatic twist in this story; “Hai đứa trẻ” focuses solely on the anxious, restless waiting for the train through the night. Beginning with the autumn drumbeats, time moves forward through the decayed lives of the poor village. The reader recognizes that in the line “Wake up, An, the train is coming,” there lies Thạch Lam’s deep sympathy for the poor souls trapped in a meaningless, stagnating life before the revolution. What could be more sorrowful than the fact that their joy, comfort, hopes, and dreams are tied to the fleeting passage of a train at night? The final page closes, but the sisters’ wait for the train still lingers in our minds, like Thạch Lam’s own silent cry: there are lives that are so pitiable, yet also so touching and precious as they strive to overcome darkness and suffering, clinging to hope for a brighter future. Day after day, night after night, Liên continues to stay awake, waiting for the train, her desire to break free from the present both concrete and vague. Though fragile, this hope is deeply earnest in the hearts of the two children. Through this, we hear a faint cry in Thạch Lam’s heart, calling for change in the dark world, for the happiness of all, especially children. Perhaps Liên and An’s story also mirrors the childhood of Vinh (Thạch Lam’s birth name), long ago in a poor village, now a distant memory for the writer.

This short story, without a plot, delves deeply into the inner world of the two children. It captures the subtle and fleeting transformations in their emotions, expressed with delicate, gentle, clear prose, rich in imagery and melody. The sound of “the train whistle echoing in the night, carried by the distant wind” paints a vivid picture of Liên lost in dreams. This is the sound of waiting and hope, but also the echo of regret. Especially, the image of the passing night train, which symbolizes both the regret for a lost, brighter past and the comfort for the present, while hinting at the possibility of something brighter in the future. Thus, the night train is the “signature” of this melancholic, lyrical short story.

Reading “Hai đứa trẻ” feels like reading a “melancholic lyrical poem,” for through the emotions of waiting for the train, we can sense a subtle, profound voice, deeply moving the reader’s heart.