Chapter 17 — The Bookmobile Through the Mountains

The next week was one of the busiest that Nghi had ever experienced since taking over the program. In addition to her regular travel schedule, she also has to take advantage of every spare moment to collect signatures for the petition, record detailed testimonies from families, and prepare documents for the upcoming hearing.

In Seo Lu, when Nghi brought out the petition and clearly explained its content and purpose, the reaction of the people was far beyond what she expected. Mr. Sung A Chinh was the first person to ask to sign. His hands were shaking but he still tried to write each stroke neatly. "I'm old, my handwriting is very bad, but I signed with all my heart. If this program is lost, the children in the village will be very disadvantaged."

After Mr. Chinh, dozens of other people in the village also signed or pointed to the petition, many of whom also volunteered to tell specific stories about how the program has changed their family lives. A young mother said that thanks to the newborn care manuals she borrowed from the bookmobile, she knew how to properly handle a high fever, avoiding having to run to the clinic dozens of kilometers away in the dead of night. Another old man told of learning how to grow a new variety of corn more effectively by reading an agricultural guidebook that Nghi's father brought up many years ago.

Nghi carefully recorded each story, realizing that the impact of the program was much more profound than she had thought, not only stopping at educating children, but also creeping into the daily life of the entire community in unexpected ways.

At Khuoi Tra, the most obvious change is the attitude of Ms. Ban Thi Nai. The woman who once doubted that reading books "cannot exchange for rice" now proactively came to Nghi, without waiting to be asked, gave her own opinion to contribute to the petition.

"Miss Nghi wrote it down for me," Mrs. Nai said, her serious voice different from her initial cold attitude, "my little girl Kía can now read long stories, write her name, and count numbers to help me calculate the money to sell brocade fabric at the market. Before, I thought a girl just needed to know how to weave and farm, but now I see that knowing how to read helps her be much more confident, dare to talk to strangers, dare to go to the market alone without fear of being cheated because she doesn't know how to count. math."

Nghi smiled, taking in every word of Mrs. Nai, feeling an indescribable joy when witnessing this change. This is exactly the kind of vivid proof that no dry data sheet can match — the change in a mother's perception, from skepticism to trust, from opposition to support.

In Dong Soi Village, Mr. Truong Van Nhiem not only signed the petition but also proactively offered to help. "Miss Nghi just say whatever you need, I will repair the car without getting paid for the program during this time, consider it a small contribution." Little Khoi also wrote a short paragraph expressing his wish for the program to continue, accompanied by a small drawing illustrating a bookmobile, showing his immature but enthusiastic painting talent.

At Nam Cay, Nam and Ngan prepared a special parent meeting, inviting all families with children studying at the school to attend, so that Nghi could present directly about the program's status and ask for signatures of support. The meeting took place in an emotional atmosphere. Many parents, although most of them were illiterate, still patiently sat and listened to the entire session, then took turns pointing to the petition with obvious respect.

"If it weren't for the books you brought up, how would my child know how to read enough to enter boarding school," a father said, his voice sincere. "Don't worry, the whole thing is behind you."

Lo Van Pao, even though he was still young, also stood up to speak before the meeting, his voice trembling but full of determination. "I would like to thank Ms. Nghi and Mr. Nam for giving me the opportunity to read books and review for exams. I hope the program will continue, not only for me, but because there are many other children in the village who need the same things as me." That innocent but sincere statement made many people in the meeting room quickly wipe away their tears, including Nghi, who was standing at the top witnessing this entire warm scene.

After the meeting, when everyone had left, Nam and Nghi together tidied up the tables and chairs and compiled the number of signatures collected. "Today alone, I got more than fifty signatures," Nam said, his voice full of excitement. "Combined with what I got from the other three copies, it's probably close to three hundred."

"Three hundred signatures, for a program that serves less than a thousand people across the entire route," Nghi said, his voice both emotional and proud. "This number will certainly carry weight in the hearing."

Nam nodded, then looked at her, his eyes contained a deep respect. "You know, seeing how everyone here supports you, I see more clearly the true value of what you are doing. This is not just your family's program anymore, it has become an indispensable part of the whole community."

On the way back, when it was already dark, Nghi sat in the car cabin, looking through the window at the distant mountains that were gradually sinking into darkness, her heart filled with an indescribable emotion - both tired from a week of non-stop work, and warm from the affection and support she received from everywhere on the route. She took out her notebook and wrote down a short but emotional line: "Three hundred signatures. Three hundred stories. Dad, I think your program has truly become a part of the flesh and blood of this land."

In addition to collecting signatures, Nghi also spent time recording some voice testimonials and ideas suggested by Yen to use as material for an upcoming reportage. She brought her old phone, asked each person's permission before recording, and clearly explained the purpose of use. Most people happily agreed, even somewhat excited to know their story could be shared more widely, contributing to the common efforts of the whole community.

One of the recordings that touched Nghi the most was the testimony of an elderly woman in Seo Lu, over seventy years old, illiterate but still always excited every time the bookmobile stopped by, sitting and listening to her children read stories to her. "I'm old and can't learn to read anymore, but I love listening to children read stories. One day I heard a story about an old woman who lived in the forest, I kept remembering it, thinking about that story for a whole week. If it weren't for the bookmobile, the children probably wouldn't have anything to read to me in their free time."

The old lady's simple story, although not directly related to education or academic achievement, touches on another aspect of the program that Nghi had never thought of clearly - the role of connecting generations, bringing spiritual joy to even those who are no longer able to access the written word on their own. She took note of this, telling herself to include it in her presentation at the hearing, as proof that the program's value goes beyond what administrative reports often mention.

Returning home, even though it was late, Nghi still tried to sit down and synthesize all the documents collected during the day, arranging them by topic - education, health, agriculture, community connection - to prepare for the upcoming presentation. Although the work is hard, every time she listens to the recordings and reads the scribbled signatures on the petition, she feels motivated, as if an entire community is shouldering the responsibility of protecting the program that her father worked so hard to build with her.

Mrs. Dung, seeing her daughter still working hard even though it was nearly midnight, came out to bring her a cup of warm ginger water. "Let's rest for a while. You're working so hard, you have to leave early tomorrow." Nghi looked up, received the glass of water from her mother's hand, smiled slightly, her eyes still shining with excitement even though her body was tired.

"Mom, I didn't expect everyone to support me so enthusiastically," Nghi said, her voice still a little emotional. "I thought I had to convince each person, but unexpectedly they proactively told more stories and proactively offered to help. I feel so lucky, mom."

"It's not luck," Mrs. Dung sat down next to her, her voice was warm. "That is the result of sixteen years of your father cultivating faith, and now it is the result of the past year of you continuing to cultivate it. Don't you see, people don't support because they are forced, but because they really believe, are truly grateful. That's something money can't buy, my child."

Nghi nodded, took a sip of warm ginger water, feeling his whole body soothed after a long, tiring day. She looked back at the pile of documents in front of her, telling herself she would try to complete the summary before going to bed, so that tomorrow morning she could continue the next journey with a full spirit, without missing any precious pieces in the big picture she was trying to complete.