As the city transitioned into a new day, its streets were already packed. Streams of people flooded every major road: Le Duan, Nam Ky Khoi Nghia, Nguyen Hue… At Bach Dang Wharf, vehicles crawled along inch by inch.

People stood, sat, and even lay down on the pavement. Amid the dense crowd, an elderly man pushed a bicycle overloaded with scrap metal. The bike was as worn and weary as the man himself.

Suddenly, a group of young women called out, “Let him go first, please!” Without anyone prompting them, the crowd instinctively parted, creating a rare clearing in the throng.

As the elderly man moved forward, the girls behind him fanned him gently, naturally, with affection - like caring for an elder in their own family.

Amid the sea of people, sweat soaked the backs of many. But there were no complaints, no shouting - only soft voices saying, “Please make some space, everyone…”

Everyone seemed to understand that this was a special day - a night when the entire city wouldn’t sleep.

At one intersection, traffic had frozen still. A woman finishing a late shift at 1 a.m. broke the silence, “Hey, great spot here to watch the planes!” Her spontaneous optimism brought laughter, a kind of humor that could only be described as uniquely Saigonese.

At a small roadside eatery, someone knocked on the door every few seconds asking to use the restroom. The staff couldn’t open the door for everyone, but quietly prioritized the elderly and children. Every polite refusal came with a soft apology.

In the traffic jam, a seasoned motorbike taxi driver weaved skillfully through narrow alleys, trying to avoid completely blocked roads. When it was no longer possible to move, his passenger asked to get off and walk. Perhaps feeling guilty for not finishing the trip, the driver simply said, “Pay whatever you want,” surprising the visitor from Hanoi.

Tonight, Ho Chi Minh City may be packed, but every corner radiates with compassion and generosity. On sidewalks where people stood or lay shoulder-to-shoulder, laughter echoed through the air. The warmth of Saigon’s people embraced even strangers. The city’s heartbeat pulsed in rhythm with the drums, footsteps, and music of this great national celebration.

What unfolded today was more than a parade of military might - it was an unintentional but powerful parade of kindness, joy, and shared humanity.

Perhaps this is why people always want to return to this city, why they step out into the crowds despite knowing they’ll be stuck in traffic and throngs of people.

Today, many may be tired - but undoubtedly, they are also happy.

Nguyen Thao