Gift

"Sister, you're Vietnamese?"
"Oh yes! Vân means cloud."
"Well, I'm half-Vietnamese! I know, usually no one can tell... my mom is Vietnamese," Austin exclaimed.
"Wow! Who could've guessed?"

Who could've guessed Vietnamese blood coursed through his veins? Who could've guessed the gift of this encounter, turned extraordinary, as I was about to leave the retreat and he only meant to give me a brief word of thanks for my presence? Who could've guessed how much more closely we are bound to each other than meets the eye?

It has been a week since I joined TYM for their Ignite retreat.
When I came home, the mysterious vine that grew near my mums revealed its identity.
My sisters had told me to kill it and that its little yellow flowers will not bear fruit because we were not sure it would need another vine for cross pollination.

8 little dưa gang (type of cantaloupe) was coyly hidden among the leaves.
How it got there, no one knew.
It became a gift because its hiddenness was given respect.

ps. I couldn't resist asking for a photo to show off to the sisters a photo of Austin.

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