A Shabby Book

When I was 6 or 7, I remember a book titled "Vietnam, My Home Land" sitting on my dad's bookshelf. It was just a normal shabby paper-back book with worn-out covers and some dog-eared pages, nothing fancy. Nevertheless, my dad has had a lot of English books, and at the time, I barely knew what English was, so I came to form a notion that all those English books stacking up in the house were "strange", including that particular book. However, many times, when I passed by the bookshelf, I took a glance at that book. The word "Vietnam" on its title somehow caught my attention. Maybe for my little mind, when something had "Vietnam" on it, it was not considered "strange" anymore.

Time passed. A few years later, when I was in 6th grade, I finally took that book off the shelf and tried to read it with my limited English. As you can guess, the book talks about Vietnam, about the geography, the places, the people, etc. Flipping through the pages of that book, I found myself astonished at Vietnam's distinguished culture, its rich heritage, and its stunning landscapes. And I remember that was the first time that I actually had a strong and distinct feeling about where I came from, where I call "my home land" without fail.

Since then, a lot of things have changed, I have had more knowledge, I have done more things, but that feeling hasn't changed much. I know that there is a lot of things going on out there, that those debates about who's right and who's wrong will last forever, and that greediness will never go hand in hand with peace. But, whatever happens, I think John Kennedy said it best, "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country."

And it's not an easy question to answer.