Morning Star

"Sơ, what is this?" He held the little creature gingerly as we paused from our shoveling. It's tongue shot out suddenly. Quang raised it closer to my face. We were preparing my little patch of land for springtime vegetables. His parents, aunts and uncles had come to fix our fence. The winds and storms had shaken it loose and eventually broken in many spots. They brought their kids with them. The kids brought their laptops and video games with them. Not Quang and Hồng. The siblings sped around the convent, looking at and touching everything. That was when they took me up on an offer of helping in the garden. More exactly, they were shoveling dirt into their shoes. They were both not more than ten years old. "Sơ, what is it?" he repeated. The thin strand-like creature remained erect instead of curling into a limp undulation. Its tongue shot out again. "It's a snake," I answered. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Yes." "Aaah!...

Clouds of white steam rose from the corner of the auditorium. There was a small huddle of people around it. I had risen to get some ice cream for dessert. One bowl remained and I decided to leave it for the dozens of little kids playing on the stage. They didn't seem aware this was the three-year anniversary meal of their grandpa's death. "Thank you, Sisters, for coming," Mrs. Lan murmured as we entered the hospital room. A profusion of wires and tubing was connected to Mr. Lan. That wasn't the surprising part. "The doctors were able to kill the cancer in his lungs. However, there was an infection and it is slowly eating up his tongue, and entering his brain," Danielle explained. Danielle was a nurse, lived out-of-state, and had flown in to be with her father in his last moments. Mr. Lan's mouth was open and his tongue was filled with bumps and holes. "Does he still understand?" Sr. Jacinta Ngân asked gently. "Yes. He just can...