My childhood memory about the Dragon Boat festival

The Dragon Boat Festival has always been a special time for my family, especially when I was a child. I grew up in Jiangxi, where the festival is celebrated with zongzi, dragon boat races, and the rich scent of sticky rice and bamboo leaves filling the air. But what I remember most is learning how to make zongzi with my grandmother.
Every year before the festival, my grandma would prepare the ingredients: sticky rice, fresh bamboo leaves, and marinated pork—my favorite. She soaked the rice and leaves in water, then patiently taught me how to fold the leaves into a cone shape. "Don’t pack it too tight, or it won’t cook evenly," she would say as I clumsily tried to mimic her skilled hands. The best part was adding a piece of fatty pork in the middle before wrapping the zongzi tightly with string.
While we worked, she told me stories about Qu Yuan, the patriotic poet who drowned himself in the river, and how people threw zongzi into the water to protect his body from fish. Her words made the festival feel more meaningful, connecting me to our history. Even though my zongzi often fell apart in the pot, my grandma always praised my efforts, and we would laugh together.
This year, I won’t be home for the festival, but I plan to celebrate with my classmates. Maybe we’ll visit Nanchang’s Gan River to watch the dragon boat races or talk and taste different tastes of zongzi together. No matter what, I’ll always cherish those moments with my grandma—the smell of bamboo leaves, her stories, and the taste of homemade meat zongzi, warm and savory, just like my childhood.