Chapter 4 — Seeds After the Rain

One week after the tomato bed incident, the garden has regained its original lush look. The once withered tomato plants have now sprouted new shoots, and a few clusters of small yellow flowers have begun to dot the green stems, signaling an upcoming fruit season. Gia Huy, every time he stops by to check, feels a small joy when he sees that sign of revival, as if he himself has a part in the life going on in that patch of land.

"Next week the club will report on semester activities to the school board," Quynh Nhu announced during Tuesday's meeting, the whole group was sitting under the shade of a mango tree to discuss. "Each year, every club must present a report to the school board, along with evidence of activities, in order to continue to receive maintenance funding for the next semester."

"How was our club's report evaluated last year?" one of two 11th grade girls, named Thao, asked.

"It's okay, but not very outstanding," Quynh Nhu replied, her voice a bit low. "The Sports Club and the Music Club are praised every year for having many exciting activities that attract many participants. Our club has few members and operates quietly, so sometimes the board of directors does not see the full value of what we do."

Anh Duong, sitting braiding a few ropes used to tie a flower trellis, looked up to comment. "This year, I think we should do something different. Not just read the report in words, but also have specific images to show everyone how the garden has changed in the past two years."

"That's a good idea," Gia Huy suddenly said, an idea suddenly flashed in his mind. "I can help make a short video, combining before and after images, along with a few short interviews of club members. In 10th grade, I made a yearbook video for my old class, and I also know a little about film editing."

The whole group turned to look at him with eyes of surprise mixed with excitement. "Do you really know how to make videos?" Thao asked, her voice full of excitement.

"Not very professional, but enough," Gia Huy replied, a bit embarrassed by the sudden attention. "If people have old photos of the garden from the early days, I can put together an introduction."

"I have kept quite a few photos from when Mr. Binh first initiated this project," Quynh Nhu said, her eyes lighting up with a rare excitement. "The whole video was taken when we first planted the mango tree, when the first vegetable bed had not yet turned green. If you combine it with the image now, you will definitely see a clear difference."

So during the following days, in addition to the usual garden care work, Gia Huy also spent more time in the evening making videos, based on hundreds of photos and a few short clips that Quynh Nhu sent over. He sat in front of the computer, attentively selecting each frame, adding background music, writing a few short but emotional captions, trying to convey the spirit of the garden - not just a place to grow vegetables, but the result of two years of perseverance, of afternoons covered in sand and soil, of the silent love that a small group of students had for a forgotten piece of land behind the gymnasium.

When he sent the first build to Quynh Nhu to preview via text message, she texted back almost immediately, along with a long row of emoticons that Gia Huy had never seen her use before. "So beautiful! I almost cried when I saw it. Thank you so much."

That text message made Gia Huy smile alone in the room, a feeling of satisfaction spreading throughout his body. He was used to being complimented on his appearance, his ability to speak, and his sociability, but this was the first time he was complimented for a specific product he had worked hard to create, for something that had real meaning to the person receiving it.

The report to the school board took place on Friday afternoon, in the school's small hall. Gia Huy, although not an official presenting member, still came to provide technical support and make final edits to the video right before showtime. He sat in the last row, nervously observing Quynh Nhu standing in front of the council. Her voice was a bit shaky at first but gradually became more confident as she presented about the two-year journey of the garden, about the environmental lessons that the club had brought to students throughout the school through extracurricular experiences.

When the video was projected on the big screen, the whole hall silently watched the contrasting images - the barren empty land full of weeds two years ago, and the lush green garden now, with brightly smiling faces of students next to the vegetable beds, next to the flower trellis, next to the small mango tree that is gradually growing. The gentle background music and simple captions made the atmosphere of the hall completely calm.

At the end of the report, the principal personally stood up to praise him, saying that this was one of the most impressive presentations he had ever seen in many years of evaluating club activities. The Environmental Club was not only approved to continue its operating budget, but was also proposed to be a representative to participate in an inter-school exchange on the topic of environmental protection next semester.

After the report, the whole group rushed out of the hall in an excited mood. Anh Duong, who rarely shows excessive emotions, this time hugged Quynh Nhu, both laughing loudly in the hallway. Thao and the other friend also jumped up and down with joy.

"It's all thanks to Gia Huy's video," Quynh Nhu said, turning to look at him with eyes sparkling with joy, "If it weren't for it, we would probably just give a dry presentation like every year."

"It's the whole group's effort over the past two years," Gia Huy replied, feeling a bit shy at the attention focused on him. "I just put the picture together."

"Don't be so modest," Anh Duong interjected, her friendly tone completely different from her initial reserved attitude. "To be honest, at first I doubted you a lot, but now I have to admit that I was wrong. You really care about this club."

That sentence, coming from the person who was most wary of him, made Gia Huy feel a silent pride rising in his heart, different from the constant confidence he carried every day at school. This is not recognition for his appearance or sociable personality, but recognition for what he has truly contributed, with his own effort and time.

To celebrate, the group decided to stop by a tea shop near the school, sit around telling stories, and laughing until late afternoon. Gia Huy realized he was smiling more than usual, not the familiar social smile that he used to please others, but a truly comfortable smile, stemming from the feeling of belonging to something, even if only temporarily.

At the tea shop, the story revolved around the memories of two years of building the garden that Gia Huy had never heard in detail. Thao recounted the first time the group went out to clear the wasteland, having to pull out every bush of weeds as high as their knees, everyone's hands were blistered because they were not used to holding a hoe. Anh Duong recalled last year's heavy rain that washed away most of the newly planted vegetable beds, forcing the group to replant from scratch. Some people were discouraged and about to give up. Only Quynh Nhu was determined not to allow anyone to leave halfway.

"At that time, I really wanted to quit," Thao laughed, scooping a spoonful of red bean soup and bringing it to her mouth. "But looking at Nhu sitting in the middle of the mud, personally picking up each uprooted vegetable, I felt embarrassed if I left."

Quynh Nhu blushed at that statement and waved her hand. "At that time, I just thought about not wanting to waste months of effort. It's no big deal."

"And thinking about Dad's mango tree," Anh Duong added, her voice gentle but meaningful, making the atmosphere around the table slacken a beat. Quynh Nhu did not respond, just smiled slightly, her eyes looking far away out the glass window of the tea shop, where the sunset was dyeing a corner of the sky orange.

Gia Huy quietly listened, feeling something warm in the way these friends shared memories with each other, not to brag or impress, but simply because they truly appreciated what they had gone through together. He suddenly realized that, throughout the years of constantly changing schools, he had never had the opportunity to accumulate such a store of shared memories with any group of friends — all his friendships had stopped at just close enough before he had to leave, never deep enough to have stories told and retold with pride like this.

"Does Gia Huy have any memorable memories from when you first transferred to your school?" Thao suddenly asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing special," he replied, a bit awkwardly. "I'm used to changing schools, so the first day everywhere is similar — getting to know a few people, remembering a few teachers' names, that's it."

Quynh Nhu looked at him for a moment, as if realizing there was something hidden behind that indifferent answer, but she didn't ask further, just quietly pushed the tea plate towards him. "Then from now on, today's report will be a memorable one here," she said, her voice gentle but sincere. "At least with the Environmental Club."

That simple sentence made Gia Huy's heart sink a bit, a feeling that was both warm and a little stinging, as if he had just been given something that he had never dared to hope to have anywhere he had ever lived.

On the way home that night, his phone vibrated with a text message from Dang Khoi, asking why he wasn't present at the gathering to celebrate the school's basketball team that had just won a friendly match this afternoon. Gia Huy looked at the message and suddenly realized that he had completely forgotten about that match, something that he would definitely remember and be fully present in the past. He quickly typed out a few lines of apology, explaining that he was busy with club business, then put his phone in his pocket and continued walking under the pale yellow streetlights, his heart still lingering on the happy afterglow of that afternoon, a feeling that he began to realize he was gradually appreciating more than anything else in his busy daily life.