Dear H. & S.,Hung high on your grandparents’ living room wall is a grainy photograph taken 36 years ago in Vietnam, the origin of one of the worlds I inhabit. Standing in a sunny courtyard with checkered tile in front of a blossoming tree are a young, thin, and pleasant Ông Ngoại (my father) and Bà Ngoại (my mother), a confident eleven-year-old Cậu Hai (my oldest brother), a cautious six-year-old Cậu Ba (my second brother), and — nervously and cautiously hiding behind Cậu Ba — a three-year-old girl: me. Later that night, we boarded boats that would take us to […]
Menu
