From Vietnam

Knock, knock, knock The sound startled me as I sat in the driver's seat, my hands trembling on the wheel. The moment had arrived. I looked up to see a serious - looking man, probably in his 50s, standing by the car. His expression was calm but firm. Before moving to America, I lived in Canada for a year and a half. In Canada, driving seemed like a necessary skill, so I registered for the driver license's test. For many people, driving the car might seem easy, but for me, it was one of the hardest things to do. Honestly, there were moments when I thought I couldn't do it. My confidence was so low. But my friends reassured me. They shared their own stories about passing the test on their second, fourth, or even fifth try. I felt a little better knowing I wasn't the only one. Still, I failed the first test and thought about giving up. To prepare for the second test, I spent every Saturday and Sunday practicing for two months. I listed all the mistakes that I had made during my first test and thought about how to fix them. I drove on different kinds of roads: in neighborhoods, on busy streets, and even near the test center. I familiarized myself with speed changes and stop signs, and I worked on every parking maneuver. The day before the test, my husband joined me to check whether I was driving well. He gave me lots of helpful advice to remember. It was a cold winter morning, with snow from the previous days still lining the roads. I woke up very early, my heart racing with nerves. I drove my husband and my son to my son's school first. Then, we headed to the test center. On the way there, I made a few small mistakes that made my husband frown and look annoyed. I felt even more nervous. But I tried to encourage myself: "Try your best, Ha. Ha's Story Vietnam 33 If you fail this time, you can take it again. The most important thing is driving safety. The examiner needs to feel safe sitting nearby you. Just focus on all of the essential skills and ignore all of the negative thoughts. You can do it!" I took a deep breath and walked into the test center. After completing the paperwork, I was told to wait for the examiner in my car. My husband stayed outside the car to wait. Each second felt like an hour as I tried to calm myself with deep breaths. "Knock, knock, knock". The sound pulled me out of my thoughts. A serious-looking man knocked on the car window. He stood outside the car and asked me to perform some basic checks: start the engine, brake, turn on the left and right indicators. Then he asked: "Honk the horn." Oh no. My mind went completely blank. I suddenly forgot how to honk the horn. Since I moved to Canada, I had rarely heard the sound of the horn and had never used it on the road. But I managed this in the first test. My husband realized the problem. He moved closer to the car, stood next to the examiner, and said in Vietnamese: "Honk the horn, just press it". And I did it. "Beep!" The sound broke the silence. The examiner slapped his forehead in frustration and my husband shook his head in disbelief. I thought to myself: It's over. I have failed again. Despite the rough start, the examiner went inside the car and sat next to me. He must have been concerned about riding with me. After fastening the seat belt, he told me to start the test. I followed all of his instructions carefully. I drove uphill and downhill, turned left and right smoothly, adjusted my speed, and transitioned from main roads to residential areas. I stayed focused and tried to remain calm. Just when I thought the test was over, the examiner asked me to enter another residential area. I took another deep breath and complied. When we returned to the test center, I parked perfectly. "You scored 94 out of 100. You have passed!" the examiner said. For a moment, I couldn't believe my ears. Did he really say I passed? My heart, which had been beating so fast during the test, felt lighter. Relief filled me, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Oh really? Thank you, thank you so much!" I exclaimed, my voice trembling with excitement. My hands held the steering wheel tightly as a wide smile spread across my face. 34 "You're a good driver," He added, "but you need to believe in yourself more." After finishing the paperwork, I ran to my husband to share the news. He smiled and said, "I already knew. The examiner gave me a 'number one' signal when he got out of the car." "Did you bribe him?" he joked. "Of course not!" I laughed, finally able to relax. Back in class, I proudly told my teacher and my classmates. That afternoon, when I picked my son up at his school, he immediately asked, "Mommy, did you pass?" "Yes, sweetheart. Mommy can drive you on the road now," I said, hugging him tightly. I was overjoyed all the rest of the day. Months later, when I moved to Wisconsin, I discovered that my Canadian license was valid there without retaking the test. I was also happy. My husband teased me again: "There's one person who is very happy today. Wisconsin opens its arms to welcome you!" I laughed but deep inside, I felt proud and grateful. I was proud of myself for struggling with fears and overcoming them. I was thankful for my husband's support, even when he was strict, and my son's encouragement. That cold winter day will always be one of the happiest and funniest moments of my life.