Long, long ago, in the time of the Hung Kings, there lived a young man named Mai An Tiem. He lived with his wife and their two little children, a boy and a girl, in a house by the sea. An Tiem was a hard worker, and he liked to say, "What we grow with our own hands tastes the sweetest."
Every evening, the children sat on the sand and looked far out across the water. "Father," asked the little girl, "what is on that island, way over there?" "Nobody knows," said An Tiem. "Nobody has ever been." The boy's eyes grew round. "Can we go and see?"
So An Tiem went to visit the King, who loved him like his own son. "Your Majesty," said An Tiem, "my family would like to sail to the faraway island and see what grows there. We will work hard and come back to tell you everything." The King stroked his beard and smiled. "What a brave idea. Take a strong boat, a sack of rice and a basket of tools. And send me good news when you can."
The next morning, the family sailed away. Splash, splash went the oars. The sea was blue and friendly, and little fish jumped beside the boat. The wind puffed up the sail, puff, puff, puff, and before sunset they reached a quiet island with golden sand, tall grasses and a little spring of fresh, clear water.
They built a small hut from bamboo and leaves. The children collected shells, and their mother and father dug a garden. "What shall we plant?" asked the boy. "Let's wait and see what gift the island gives us," said his mother.
One morning, a flock of birds flew over the island, chirping and pecking at something. They dropped a few small black seeds onto the sand. The little girl picked them up. "Look, Father! The birds like these, so the fruit must be good." An Tiem nodded. "Let's plant them and take very good care of them."
So they did. They made little holes in the soil, pat, pat, pat. They dropped in the seeds, one, two, three. Every single day they carried water from the spring in coconut shells, drip, drip, drip. Soon green vines crept across the sand. Yellow flowers opened. Then little green balls appeared, growing bigger and rounder each week, until they were as big as drums.
"Knock, knock," said the boy, tapping one. It made a deep, happy sound. An Tiem cut it open. Inside it was bright red, sprinkled with black seeds, and so juicy! Everyone took a bite. "Mmm!" they all said at once. "It's sweet and cool, like a snack and a drink together!" They named the fruit dua hau, the watermelon.
They planted more and more seeds, until the island became one big watermelon garden. Then the children had an idea. They carved their family's name on a few watermelons and floated them gently out to sea. "Go and say hello to the King!" they called. Bob, bob, bob went the watermelons over the waves.
On the mainland, fishermen found the round green fruits bobbing near the shore. They tasted them and smiled. "These come from An Tiem's island!" The news travelled all the way to the palace. The King laughed happily. "An Tiem has found something wonderful. Send a boat to bring the family home for a visit!"
When the family sailed back, their boat was full of watermelons and bags of seeds to share. People everywhere planted them. The King gave An Tiem a big hug. "You were right," he said. "What we grow with our own hands tastes the sweetest."
And that is why, even now, families enjoy sweet red watermelons on hot summer days and at Tet, and they save the seeds so that more can grow next year.
Parent tip: When the boy knocks on the watermelon, tap the table twice like a drum and ask your child to guess what colour is hiding inside.
Ask your child: After the story, you can ask: “Who was kind in this story, and what did they do?”
This gentle retelling has no exile or punishment, just a family adventure where everyone stays safe and happy.