What is happiness? Happiness is each passing moment, parents are always there to love and protect. Happiness is being free to do what you like. Or is happiness living and raising your head under a clear blue sky? Happiness for me is simply waking up every morning, seeing the scenery of the city where I live. That scene was so dear, so close. Remember when I was a little girl, I followed my parents from the idyllic and peaceful countryside to come to this neighborhood, full of surprises and unfamiliarity. Yet today, each scene in the neighborhood is imprinted in my mind. That neighborhood is located in a small corner in the heart of noisy and bustling Hanoi. Those are the rows of houses with ancient, mossy features, seemingly reminiscent of a very old Hanoi. Not towering skyscrapers, nor glitzy high-rises. The houses are lined up next to each other here, are simple 4-level houses, with lofts and old, very simple stairs. The house is painted in moist yellow, with green moss floating behind the walls like the houses in fairy tales. Alternating between those houses are different shops. The shop sells water, the shop sells groceries. There are also small cafes, nestled in the heart of the neighborhood. On both sides of the street around the neighborhood, shady green milk flower trees. Every season the milkweed blooms, the whole space is filled with the faint scent of flowers, typical for Hanoi.

A new day has arrived in the beloved neighborhood since it was early morning. The sound of early buses, taxis and sales pitches have become familiar to people here at the beginning of a new day. Electric light shines from the windows of restaurants, noodle shops, and noodle shops. Carrying street vendors lightly leaning on the sidewalk, there are sticky rice, peanut sticky rice, spring rolls, fragrant. Students who go to school in the morning often stop by the old man's shop or sit under the ancient milk flowers, each child chooses a dish and then rushes to school. At rush hour, the small street in the neighborhood is also crowded with cars, the horn honks all the way around the corner. People living in the neighborhood are familiar, don't complain, lament, they quietly do their own work. me. Then that noisy time passed, the neighborhood returned to its usual quiet state. Occasionally, listening with headphones will hear soft conversations, shopping, and the sounds of nature. A long day has passed, the neighborhood is silent in the heart of Hanoi. The electric light is still bright, but not as noisy or noisy as the other places. The sound of cars is still rolling and people are still living peacefully. When the city fell into the night, this place fell asleep. Every season that passes, the neighborhood where I live is still as peaceful as that, but the color of the clothes changes. In spring, vitality is also about to rise, the scene here seems to be full of life. Passers-by are also crowded, brilliant colors cover every corner. In the summer, milk flowers follow the footsteps on the empty street. The white petals left branches in the wind, whirling in the summer sun and the sound of cicadas. Autumn brings with it the cold, falling yellow leaves carpet the whole road. The neighborhood scene suddenly exudes a poetic, dreamlike beauty. Autumn passed, winter came, the cold wind howled through the crack of the door, the neighborhood hid from the winter frost, quiet and unusually quiet. The people here are elegant, gentle, but hardworking. In the hustle and bustle of the city, their pace of life is still calm. They sincerely care for each other like neighbors, close neighbors. Every moment that passes in this neighborhood is every precious, cherished moment.