The Day Our Car Broke Down

Last summer, my family decided to drive to the beach in Vung Tau. My dad was driving, my mom was reading a map on her phone, and my little sister and I were singing songs in the back seat. Everyone was excited.

About an hour after we left the city, the car started to make a strange noise. Then smoke came out from the front of the car. My dad stopped at the side of the road, and we all got out quickly.

"Don't worry," Dad said. "I can fix it." He opened the hood and looked inside for a long time, but he couldn't find the problem. The sun was getting hotter and hotter, and my sister started to cry.

While we were waiting, an old farmer rode past on his motorbike. He stopped and asked if we needed help. He looked at the engine and said, "The engine is too hot. You should wait thirty minutes and add some water."

The farmer invited us to rest at his house nearby. His wife gave us cold coconuts to drink. They were sweeter than any drink I bought in the city. We sat under a big mango tree and talked with them while the car cooled down.

Finally, Dad poured water into the engine, and the car started again. We arrived at the beach two hours late, but nobody was angry. That evening, my mom said, "The best part of the trip wasn't the beach. It was the kind people we met."