The widower once sold all his assets to raise his two daughters. 20 years later, they returned in pilot uniforms, holding his hand and walking into a place he never dared to dream of setting foot in his entire life…

The international airport that afternoon was still noisy with the sound of engines, the loudspeaker announcements were blaring regularly. But in a small corner next to the plane preparing to take off, there was a moment that made many people stop – a haggard old man, standing between two young female pilots, burst into tears. He could not hold back his tears, while the two girls gently placed their hands on their father’s shoulders, smiling brightly like the sun.

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His name is Tu – a farmer who lived his whole life in a thatched house in a windy district in the Central region. His wife died early, when his two daughters had not yet had time to remember their mother’s face. From then on, he became a single father. With no qualifications or skills, he did whatever he could – construction worker, brick carrier, porter, motorbike taxi driver – as long as he had money to buy rice and notebooks for his children.

Every night, when his two children were asleep, he would diligently mend clothes, cook porridge for the next morning, then sit by the oil lamp to learn to read to teach his children. “What do these three words mean, Dad?” – the older sister asked. “Ah… that is… ‘success’, my child. When you two become successful, don’t forget me, okay?” – he forced a smile, hiding his silent tears.

The two sisters’ childhood was associated with worn-out plastic sandals and meals consisting of boiled vegetables dipped in salt. But they never once heard their father complain about poverty or blame fate. On the contrary, he always taught his children to dream and strive. Every time he passed the airport – just looking through the fence – he pointed: “Look, if you two can wear pilot uniforms like that one day, I will be very happy.”

People laughed and said he was a dreamer. In this poor village, few people had ever flown in an airplane, let alone become a pilot. But he didn’t care. He just tried a little harder, worked extra hours at night, and saved every penny to support his dream. He could go without food, but he could never give up studying.

Then one day, a miracle happened. Both his daughters – after a stressful university entrance exam – were admitted to the Aviation Academy. One place was hard enough, let alone two at the same time. The day he received the admission notice, he hugged his daughters and cried in the cramped kitchen. “I really flew… I really flew, Dad…” – the children said, but he just nodded continuously, his mouth trembling, unable to say anything.

He sold his last buffalo, borrowed money from relatives, and worked day and night to have enough money to send his children to the city. The day he sent them off, he did not go to the bus station. He said: “I was so scared that I would cry, and you wouldn’t be able to bear to leave.” Yet when the bus started, he stood behind a bamboo tree at the village entrance, tears streaming down his cheeks, still holding the bag of sticky rice and the fried egg he had made himself.

Many years passed. The two girls studied hard and graduated with honors. No one could believe that from a dilapidated house in the middle of a poor countryside, two young female pilots could fly high into the sky, controlling flights of thousands of miles. They promised each other: “When the day comes to fly officially, we will pick up our father at the airport and show him that our dream has come true.”

And then that day came.

That afternoon, Mr. Tu stepped into the airport for the first time, wearing an old brown shirt that was neatly ironed. He walked through the lines, looking around in wonder like a child. Then he stopped when he saw two girls in pilot uniforms walking towards him.

“Dad!” – they both called in unison. He stood still, his mouth tightly shut, then he fell to his knees and burst into tears. “I… really flew, Dad…” – the older sister said, hugging him. The younger sister wiped away her father’s tears, her voice choking: “I did it, thanks to you, Dad.”

Everyone around looked at them, unable to contain their emotions. A skinny man, with almost all his hair turning white, cried like a child in the middle of the airport – not because he missed his flight, but because finally, after a lifetime of hard work, he had witnessed his dream take flight.

“No one is born to fly, but with dad – I have wings.”

That was what his daughter wrote after the photo that day. A photo that needed no caption, because the father’s tears spoke for themselves:  love, sacrifice, and a life for his child’s dream.