Author: Anydinh

After years of wandering in a foreign land, it was finally time for me to return home, where my family and loved ones were waiting. Wanting to surprise everyone, I didn’t call ahead or notify anyone — I just quietly made my way back.

That day turned out to be incredibly unlucky for me. My flight was scheduled to depart at 5 a.m., but for some unexplained reason, it was delayed until noon before we could even complete the departure procedures.

Just when I thought everything was finally settled, I heard the announcement: the flight route had been changed. Dragging my heavy suitcase, I went looking for the new gate. No sooner had I found it than another announcement came — due to bad weather, the flight was delayed again, this time with no estimated time of departure. All I could do was sit and wait for further updates. Why was I so unlucky?

Afraid of missing the flight, none of the passengers dared rest. We all waited in vain, exhaustion written all over our faces, longing just to return home.

At midnight, just when everyone had lost hope, a voice came over the intercom announcing that the flight would take off at 1 a.m. The passengers were relieved and rushed to gather their belongings. After three hours in the sky, we finally set foot on our beloved homeland.

Hanoi at night was stunning, dazzling, and vibrant. A gentle drizzle made the scenery even more magical.

It was still early, so I tried to find a hotel or guesthouse to rest. But unfortunately, every place I went to was fully booked. With no other options, I thought of calling a friend to pick me up — only to find that my phone had run out of battery without me noticing.

Looking around, I spotted a small roadside eatery. I hadn’t eaten at the airport for fear of missing the flight, so I was getting hungry. I decided to stop by for a bite.

Walking into the eatery, the friendly owner asked,

“What would you like to eat, dear?”

Looking at the display of dishes, I realized they were all meals I hadn’t had in a long time. I wanted to eat everything, but after some hesitation, I chose a bowl of pho. As I ate, I started a conversation to pass the time.

“Have you been running this place long, Auntie?”

She responded while serving another customer:

“More than twenty years now.”

“Is business good?” I asked.

She didn’t look up, but replied patiently:

“Just enough to get by, dear.”

I wanted to continue chatting but didn’t want to bother her, so I quietly finished my bowl of pho.

Feeling bored, I glanced around. Despite the late hour and the rain, the place was still full of customers. I remembered I still had nowhere to go, and it was dangerous for a girl to wander alone at night. Hesitantly, I said:

“Auntie, I just got back from a long trip, and I couldn’t find a place to stay. Would you mind if I sit here until morning? I really don’t know where to go.”

The woman smiled gently and replied,

“Of course, dear. Just sit here. The buses won’t start running for another hour or so. It’s too risky for a girl to be wandering around.”

Like a drowning person clutching a lifeline, I quickly thanked her.

“Thank you so much, Auntie.”

She smiled again and said,

“No problem. Make yourself comfortable. The bus should pass by around 5:30.”

She went back to work, and after a while, I must’ve dozed off without realizing it. Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder that startled me awake. Flustered, I said:

“I’m sorry! I must’ve been too tired and fell asleep. Is it time for the bus already?”

She smiled kindly,

“Not yet, dear. It’s only 4:15. You looked exhausted. You must’ve been awake for a long time. There’s a small hammock inside—go lie down for a bit and rest.”

Embarrassed, I said,

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just stay here.”

“No need to be shy. Everyone gets stranded sometimes. Go rest inside.”

I hesitated, unsure how to respond.

“Auntie…”

She didn’t say anything more. She just took my hand and gently led me inside. The house was small but airy and spacious. It looked like only she and her husband lived there — everything came in pairs. Feeling tired and sleepy, I scratched my head and said bashfully,

“Then… thank you, Auntie, I’ll rest here for a while.”

She smiled and patted my shoulder.

“Go ahead and sleep. You’ll feel better.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Once she left, I laid down on the hammock and quickly drifted off.

When I woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. I stepped outside to see the woman washing bowls. Seeing me, she smiled and asked:

“You’re awake?”

“Yes, Auntie. I just woke up.” I scratched my head and shyly added, “I must’ve troubled you a lot. Without you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Don’t mention it. Just two old folks here — having company makes it lively. Want me to cook something for you?”

I quickly waved my hands,

“No, thank you. I’ve already troubled you enough. I should go now or I’ll miss the bus. My family must be worried since they can’t reach me.”

As I spoke, I took some money from my pocket and gently placed it in her hand, smiling.

“Please accept this, Auntie, just a little something to thank you and your family.”

She pressed the money back into my hand,

“No need, dear. Save it and buy something nice for your family.”

…

Parting with the kind shop owner, I made my way home, leaving Hanoi behind — the grand, ancient city, the heart and soul of Vietnam.

They say Hanoi is a land of hustle, of relentless motion, a place where life’s pressures make people forget even who they truly are. But to me, somewhere in the depths of this city still beats a warm and genuine heart — simple, unpretentious, full of the timeless compassion of Vietnamese people.

To me, Hanoi is not just beautiful —

It is human.

It is kind.