Chapter 6 — Seeds After the Rain

Part II — Little Garden

October started with the pouring rain at the end of the season, forcing club activities to move into the multi-purpose classroom many times instead of going to the garden as usual. But as soon as the weather stopped, Gia Huy was the first person to suggest going out to check the situation of the trees, a change that he himself did not expect when he remembered the first afternoon of reluctantly holding a shovel to till the soil just a few weeks ago.

"After heavy rain, the soil is easily compacted, making it difficult for tree roots to breathe," Mr. Binh explained during an activity, standing in the middle of the garden with a familiar faded jacket, holding a handful of damp soil and gently squeezing it then letting go so the group could observe the soil structure. "You have to gently loosen the top layer of soil, not too deep to avoid damaging the roots, but enough to allow air to penetrate."

Mr. Binh, whom Gia Huy previously only knew through a few dry Biology classes in class, turned out to be a completely different person when standing in the middle of this garden. The teacher's eyes lit up every time he talked about trees, and his voice became lively, different from the seriousness usually seen on the podium.

"Teacher," Gia Huy suddenly asked, when the group was taking a break in the middle of the lesson, "why did you come up with the idea of making this garden? I heard from Quynh Nhu that it was two years ago."

Teacher Binh sat down on a familiar stone slab, his eyes looking far away at the mango tree gently swaying in the wind. "Two years ago, this land was just an empty lot filled with weeds and construction debris left over from the renovation of the gymnasium. I've been teaching Biology for fifteen years, and I've realized something - students today can memorize the structure of cells, can draw the photosynthesis cycle with precision to the arrow, but very few of them actually touch the soil, actually see a seed sprout right before their eyes."

The teacher stopped, picked up a dry leaf that had fallen nearby, and turned it in his hand. "The teacher proposed this project to the school board, but at first it was rejected because he thought it was expensive and unnecessary. It took him nearly half a year of persuasion, committing to spend his own money to buy the initial seeds, and finding volunteer students himself, before he was approved for this small-scale experiment. At that time, only a few students participated, including Quynh Nhu."

"Quynh Nhu participated from the beginning?" Gia Huy asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"That's right," Mr. Binh nodded, his eyes becoming more thoughtful. "She came to me just a few weeks after the project started, asking to join even though she wasn't a member of the club at that time. I still remember her asking me if I could plant a perennial fruit tree here, even though I explained that the land had many uncertainties and might not be maintained long term. But she was still determined, saying that no matter what, she wanted to plant that mango tree."

Gia Huy remained silent, piecing together disparate pieces of information — the time the mango tree was planted, the time Quynh Nhu's father passed away. He suddenly realized that this garden, for Mr. Binh, was a passionate educational project to help students get closer to nature; But for Quynh Nhu, it also has a much deeper meaning, a place for her to anchor a part of her memories that cannot be otherwise.

"It's not just Nhu," Mr. Binh continued, as if reading his thoughts. "This garden, over the past two years, has become an important part of the whole school, even though not everyone realizes it. My Biology class now has an outdoor practice session every semester right here, where students can personally observe the growth process of plants, instead of just learning through books. The Art Club sometimes comes here to paint landscapes. There are students who are under academic pressure and come here to sit for a while during recess, just to have a quiet space in the middle of the school campus. This garden is not only the property of the Environmental Club, but has become a part of the whole school's atmosphere, even though it is silent and few people notice.

Those words made Gia Huy look at the garden in a different light, not simply as a place where he came to volunteer, not only as a place where he met Quynh Nhu, but as a small ecosystem that holds many stories and many different meanings for different people.

"So why doesn't the school invest more in the garden?" he asked. "I heard Anh Duong say that the operating budget is still very limited."

Teacher Binh smiled slightly, a bit bitter in that smile. "Because this is still considered a small-scale pilot project, teacher. The school board prioritizes budgets for more 'tangible' items — lab renovations, sports equipment purchases, things that can measure immediate results. An environmental education garden, although it brings long-term value, is difficult to prove with specific numbers on the report."

Gia Huy nodded, feeling a new sympathy rising in his heart. He remembered last semester's activity report, remembered Quynh Nhu's worry about the garden not being properly appreciated, and now, listening to Mr. Binh recount the entire journey, he understood even more clearly why that recognition was so important to the group.

That afternoon, when everyone had left, Gia Huy stayed behind to help Quynh Nhu pack up the tools one last time. The two walked along the bamboo fence surrounding the garden, checking a few places that were loose due to the wind and rain a few days ago.

"Did Mr. Binh tell you the story about when the project first started?" Quynh Nhu asked, seeing Gia Huy looking unusually thoughtful.

"Yes," he replied. "The teacher told me that you participated from the first days and asked him to plant a mango tree even though at that time the garden was not sure to last long."

Quynh Nhu was silent for a moment, her hand still tying up the loose fence. "At that time, it had only been a few months since I lost my father," she said, her voice gentle but unable to hide her emotions. "I needed somewhere to do something, anything, instead of just sitting at home and being sad. When I heard that Mr. Binh was building a garden, I immediately asked to join, even though at that time I didn't understand anything about gardening."

"Now you're an expert," Gia Huy said, deliberately joking to lighten the somewhat quiet atmosphere.

Quynh Nhu laughed, her eyes lit up. "It's almost like that. In two years, I've learned a lot of things, from how to recognize poor soil, to how to combine plants to naturally avoid pests and diseases. Sometimes I think, if my dad was still alive, he would be very surprised to see that my daughter now knows so much about plants, while when I was little, I couldn't even distinguish between spinach and sweet potatoes."

The two of them laughed together, laughter resounding in the quiet space of the garden at dusk. Gia Huy looked at Quynh Nhu, looked at the way the late day sunlight covered her hair with a light halo, and felt something warm growing in his heart, a feeling he didn't dare to name but didn't want to avoid anymore like before.

"Have you ever thought about what you will do when you grow up related to this?" he asked, when they had finished tying the last piece of fence and sat down to rest on the familiar stone.

"Yes," Quynh Nhu replied immediately, without hesitation, as if it was something she had thought about many times. "I want to study Agriculture or Environmental Science, then work on land restoration projects, afforestation, or urban green space planning. I know it doesn't sound as "hot" as the economics or technology majors you often choose, but I see it as the only thing I really want to do for the rest of my life."

"I think that's great," Gia Huy said, and this time he was completely sincere, without any formality. "Few people my age know with such certainty what they want."

"How about you?" Quynh Nhu asked again, her eyes looking at him curiously. "What major do you plan to study after studying abroad?"

Gia Huy paused for a moment. He had answered this question countless times before, with his parents, with career counselors, with Dang Khoi, always with a safe and vague answer — Economics, or Business Administration, fields that sounded "definitely have a future" that he had never really thought carefully about whether he liked it or not.

"Probably Economics," he replied, but this time, when he said that familiar answer in front of Quynh Nhu, he suddenly felt it was strangely empty, like a prepared answer and not coming from any real desire. "Actually, I'm not sure. I've never been in one place long enough to really figure out what I like, other than adapting quickly and getting along with people."

Quynh Nhu was silent, not in a hurry to respond, just looked at him with attentive eyes, as if listening not only to the words but also to what was hidden behind them. Gia Huy, realizing that he had just revealed more than he intended, was a bit confused and wanted to talk about something else, but Quynh Nhu spoke first.

"Then maybe you should take the time to figure out what you really like, before you have to choose," she said, her voice gentle and without judgment. "There's no need to rush. Trees are the same. If you force them to flower and bear fruit too early when the roots are not yet strong, they won't grow sustainably."

That sentence, although simple, made Gia Huy feel like someone had just touched a hidden corner of his heart that he had never shared with anyone. He smiled, nodded, did not respond out loud, but silently thanked her for not trying to force him to have an answer right away, like many other adults often do.