It was a quiet afternoon, and the golden sun cast soft light across the backyard where Lala sat alone under the old mango tree. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves above her, but nothing could calm the sadness that had slowly crept into her heart. In her lap was a small, worn-out photo album filled with memories — sweet, joyful moments that now felt distant. Tears welled in her eyes as she flipped through the pages, each picture a window into a time she dearly missed.
The first photo showed Bibi, her best friend since childhood, grinning wildly with a face covered in mango juice. They had spent almost every day together, laughing, playing games, and chasing butterflies in the fields near their village. Bibi was more than a friend — she was like a sister to Lala. Their bond was unbreakable, or so Lala thought. But things had changed. Bibi’s family had moved to another town a few months ago, and since then, the two hadn’t spoken as often. Life had become busier, lonelier.
A tear rolled down Lala’s cheek as she touched Bibi’s smile in the photo. “We used to laugh so much,” she whispered. “Why did everything have to change?”
She turned to another page — this one filled with pictures of her mom. Her kind face smiled back at her from every image: one where she was cooking Lala’s favorite dish, another where they were hugging after a long day at school, and one where they were planting flowers together in the garden. Her mom had always been her greatest supporter, her anchor, her home.
But even that had shifted recently. Work had taken over her mother’s life. She left early, returned late, and hardly had time to sit down and talk like they used to. Though her mom tried her best, Lala couldn’t help but feel a growing distance between them. There were nights when she lay awake, missing the gentle bedtime stories and warm hugs. Now, those moments existed only in her memories — and the faded pages of this album.
Then came the last section of the album, a collection of photos with Ceo Kien — her fun-loving neighbor who had always treated her like a niece. Ceo Kien was famous in their small town for his generosity and good humor. He had a laugh that could light up the darkest day, and he was always there for Lala when she needed advice, encouragement, or just a silly story.
“Remember this one?” she said aloud to herself, staring at a picture of her and Ceo Kien at the village fair. He had bought her the biggest cotton candy she’d ever seen, and they laughed until their stomachs hurt. But now, Ceo Kien had taken a job overseas, and while he still sent postcards and messages, it wasn’t the same. The days felt emptier without his cheerful visits.
Lala closed the album and hugged it tightly to her chest. A deep sigh escaped her lips, followed by a sob. “Why did everyone have to go?” she asked the wind. “Why can’t things be like before?”
She didn’t want to be selfish — she knew life moved on and people had to follow their paths. But still, the ache of missing her loved ones was too strong to ignore. Sometimes, it felt like she had been left behind.
Just then, a small sound interrupted her sorrow. A gentle rustle in the grass. Lala looked up to see a tiny kitten with wide eyes staring at her. It meowed softly, as if it, too, was seeking comfort. Lala wiped her tears and reached out her hand. The kitten stepped closer and curled up in her lap.
“You’re all alone too, huh?” she said, stroking its soft fur. “Maybe we can be sad together.”
As the kitten purred softly, Lala felt the first hint of warmth return to her chest. She still missed Bibi, Mom, and Ceo Kien terribly, but in that quiet moment, she remembered something else — something important.
All those happy memories she had weren’t gone. They were part of her. The laughter with Bibi, the loving care from her mom, the silly stories from Ceo Kien — they had shaped who she was. And while people might go away for a while, love never truly leaves.
She looked at the kitten and smiled, though her eyes were still watery. “You know what? Maybe I can write them letters. Even if they’re far away, I can still share my thoughts.”
Inspired, Lala jumped up, gently cradling the kitten in her arms. She ran back into the house, grabbed her notebook, and started writing. Her first letter was to Bibi.
“Dear Bibi, I miss you so much. Do you remember the mango tree? It’s still here, and I still sit under it and think about our games. I hope you’re making new friends, but I hope you haven’t forgotten me…”
Then she wrote to her mom.
“Dear Mom, I know you’re working hard, and I’m proud of you. I just want to say I miss our talks. Maybe we can have tea together again this weekend. I’ll make your favorite cookies…”
Finally, she wrote to Ceo Kien.
“Dear Ceo Kien, your stories still make me smile, even from memory. I hope your job is going well. Do you remember the cotton candy at the fair? I do. I miss those days, but I know we’ll make new memories when you visit again…”
As she sealed each letter with care, Lala felt lighter. The sadness was still there, but now it was joined by a spark of hope. Memories didn’t have to be painful — they could be a bridge to keep love alive, even across time and distance.
Later that evening, her mom came home early. Lala ran to greet her with a hug, surprising her.
“I was thinking,” Lala said with a shy smile. “Maybe we could make tea and talk. Like we used to?”
Her mom’s eyes softened. “I’d love that, sweetheart.”
They sat down together under the mango tree, the kitten nestled beside them, and shared stories while the sun dipped below the horizon. And though Lala still missed the way things had been, she realized something beautiful: new memories were waiting to be made.
