I laughed and could not understand why her mother say this to me. In my heart would never believe, the way home is the farthest back. From Hanoi to less than 50 km from my house. Mother wrong! These early years of the features I loved to visit his parents, and also to talk about her insidious, the way home is the nearest you. , but there are times of dwindling, sir gradually as the garment good luck or happiness of a human life. I graduated, stayed in Hanoi, throws himself into life, fight like a brave horse to seek a foothold in the prosperous dust. Going through the process half-life, romantic adventure in worn footprints everywhere, sea four continents, I suddenly realized that the way home is the farthest road. Mother was absolutely right! Then I was startled and recalled thinking. My hometown is how the same identical layer is gone, but you see anyone ever again. Not by the poor in my country or in need of spiritual life like any other village. They just turned his eyes closed as hands let go, his body dissolved in the mother earth. Having hundreds of thousands of thousands of legitimate reasons and not legitimate to the left foot can not return anymore, even in the heart remains a headache silhouette home. Either way back home just mathematically not make any sense! Even with me now, as tired legs mink pillows, each shattered dreams, still can not (do not want it, rather) back to the roof old anymore.
đang được dịch, vui lòng đợi..
