Amid the vast mountains of the Northwest, where clouds brush the hilltops and morning sunlight filters through the leaves, I came across the innocent smiles of H’Mông children — pure as the morning dew, and warmer than the afternoon sun.
These barefoot children, cheeks flushed red from the cold, carry in their eyes a sparkling curiosity and kindness. They run freely along winding dirt paths and steep mountain slopes — their playgrounds are vast and open. There are no modern toys, yet their laughter fills the hills. Some cradle their baby siblings on their backs, while holding a piece of bread to share with a friend. From a young age, they learn to be independent, to share, and to work. Their games are simple — a stick, a stone, or a folk tune passed down by word of mouth — but they are rich in connection and joy.
The H’Mông people live slowly and affectionately. They are reserved and soft-spoken, but once they open their hearts, they are as warm as a fire on a winter night. I’ll never forget the image of an elderly H’Mông woman sitting by her loom — her wrinkled hands skillfully weaving vibrant fabrics from flax thread, just like life here: simple, yet radiant in its own way. They continue to preserve traditional values through festivals like Gầu Tào, their own lunar New Year, and the sound of the khèn (reed pipe) echoing across the mountain slopes in the late afternoons, calling out to loved ones.
In the highlands, the air always carries a hint of mountain chill, but the people are warmhearted. Despite many hardships, they greet strangers with gentle smiles, kind eyes, and a cup of homemade corn wine filled with sincerity. Wherever you go, you might be invited to stay for a meal — simple, yet full of warmth and generosity.
Every time I return from the highlands, I carry with me a quiet feeling — like a small life lesson in resilience, in finding joy amidst hardship, and above all, in human kindness that knows no boundaries. The H’Mông children I met are not just images of carefree youth, but symbols of strength and spirit in the face of a harsh land. And it is the people here — through their authenticity and simplicity — who make me long to return again and again.
.