Tree eggs

    Outside my window there is a tree house eggs. Each time a panoramic through a small window, I had the feeling indescribable pay back when looking at his egg tree. Remember as a child, in a class of his reading with her hero Vo Thi Sau, her name associated with a sacred tree, pear tree -ki - ma. I asked her mother questions about the species in the song about her hero Vo Thi Sau indomitable heroic sacrifices when this new age sixteen. Mom laughed and rubbed my head said: pear - ki - ghost is eaten fruit or chicken stock and over to make blurry the limbs, face and even fruit anymore huh. In the south they call the chicken stock is pear fruit - ki - ma. Things just as they are called na fruit custard fruit, pineapple pineapples, ... that's all. Since then I have a special excitement about this plant.

I also find out about this species in literature. Every time I eat chicken stock so happy and eat them with special respect attitude. Since eating with such respect attitude so I feel the taste of very tasty chicken eggs. It has the sweet, fleshy and fat. Fragrant and golden suom also very beautiful. Leaves the plant there long blade, green all year round. Large flowers grow in clusters, the tip optical branches. When we fall look like small white pearl home. They were kids we then often stoop to pick the flowers fall in stock new chicken house and deep house Huong on a beautiful necklace. Remember the time I did not curb the pure beauty of the flower egg picking up some cotton compresses still on the tree and being scolded te Huong catch a ball tassel. Thinking about it, I still tremble slightly. So I also want my house with egg plant, the latter will pick up the flowers fall comfortably without permission. After eating egg mother, I brought the garden to plant grain. I was so glad and say: yes, be there. Con painstakingly watered only about four to five years as sports lake eating egg. So I eagerly dug pungent woodland. I dug a big hole, at least shady garden spot, next to the water source for irrigation and help take the suspense. The first day, the day I came home from school yet again ran out of chicken eggs plant garden view but no signs. Bang goes a while I was startled to see trees rejoice my eggs green sprout. Every day I watered it hard. Looking forward to it each day thrive. Maybe because I was too hard, right inside the gutter and in that densest tree garden that my eggs are not just big piles whistle. Then my childhood garden my mother was also sold in exchange for a small house in the neighborhood with her step-mother to be comfortable in my mother married when new. I was deeply saddened when I looked at the tree's eggs are now huge first bear flowers. Its new owner and said coldly cutting down trees and dense that no economic value.

              Time passed, I became university student, graduate employment. These days away from home I always remembered the small piece of land hung where I grew up. Remember childhood garden was beautiful with fig trees, tree shells, tree turn, mango, guava trees, sweet grapefruit, grapefruit sour, honey jackfruit, jackfruit period, sapodilla tree, egg plant ... . Now that land becomes barren. Humans on land that was different from the old. My mother acquired a part of that childhood garden to store his childhood. I'm afraid for some reason my mother would sell it off despite my feelings of grief. So I did not wait to buyout inherited. The cell edge of the tiny windows of the houses I own very little, on a tiny plot of land for a plant sprouting acne. I am very pleased and happy for it. Childhood memories of a beautiful in my miraculous resurrection. Unlike the old caytrung my chicken, chicken eggs this tree grow just rocketed. Scenes in a sweet, tree height ceilings me. Summer before my egg tree fortune makes me very excited fruit. This year many more flower clusters, and now it is the tip of the left little finger. Egg fruit trees grow quickly, just a few days as there are tiny flowers as small island lights. Yet today the small green fruit was breezy. I noticed golden egg usually blooming in the Lunar New Year. So when he saw the swinging egg cluster Kiu thick treetops golden shining as I know spring has been going on already. Tet thrill and the warming is coming. And I was absorbed in watching the peach, apricot, plum blossom. Pulse again loose on their new clothes to go Tet.

               Thinking of egg plant, I remembered about a friend of old. She was more than I could nearly two decades old. But she was young and beautiful as a rose sparkling shine carving fragrant breeze in the morning tomorrow. Her hand rolled, then a rounded person. She named Moon, so I jokingly call her sister: the full moon! The familiar call forever! So I called her was: Sister Moon moon. Back then her graduation exercises pedagogical sectors near where I stay with relatives while still a student. Or visit my sister site to practice playing with the same people you are supporting me. Sometimes she slept back at me. So that evening I just giggled and said she came late. In her I feel a mature, sincere and experience of a woman who was married. But still very naive, innocent and sweet innocence of a preschool teacher. She told me about her first love unfinished, happy marriage and to bring existing small son quite femininity makes her very anxious. She tells the story of little cousins ​​kind. And many other things, but that she also loves plants and see exotic egg why her relatives house in the countryside do not eat? But she did not climb so she picked the strongest vibration for egg falling down and picked them to eat root. I like eggs can see her today to give me a little. The big round egg turned red and error was crushed amniotic sometimes a little sticky coal wholesaler or small stones in her tree house but did eat the sweet world. Thanks to the sweet egg and sincere heart that I have Nguyet dispel unhappy memories about egg tree. I love the yellow abundance of chicken eggs, sweet love captivated its pure, passionate love chicken egg because it has always left a lot, can eat in comfort and pleasure in ...
                                                                Author: Pham Thi Hoi