I was starting to get somewhere.
I was exhausted, yes, from working under the sun for so many hours, and a little frustrated that I didn't get exactly what I deserved for my work, but seeing my own rice seedlings grow gave me a feeling of bliss so unique I would probably never feel it again. I felt happy with my feet in the mud, walking carefully between the delicate, beautiful sprouts. I took off my hat and wiped the sweat off my forehead.
I felt at peace here. I liked work. It distracted my mind from the things that would destroy it. Thinking too much was lethal.
I admired every single seedling. I felt like a mother watching her children play. After almost one year of this lonely suffering, I finally felt pleasant.
After I was done caring for my little green children, I would go to bed for only a few hours, then get up at dawn and get back to work.
No one else I knew put so much work into their rice paddies. But mine were going to be perfect. After all, I couldn't settle for less. Maybe that's more the reason why Chinh brought doom to our family: not because we owned more land, but because he couldn't bear with the fact that we had more passion for greatness than others did. Maybe that's why Ton hasn't come back, because he feels he can never regain this greatness.
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