What lessons would a nation’s leader choose to leave for future generations?

In Letters to My Grandchildren, President Thongloun Sisoulith opens a window into his life through a collection of heartfelt letters written during official journeys abroad between 2014 and 2019. More than a family memoir, the book recounts an extraordinary journey from a humble childhood in a remote village in Huaphan province to the highest office in the Lao PDR.
Through vivid recollections of hardship, perseverance, education, and public service, President Thongloun shares the experiences and values that shaped his character and leadership. Readers will encounter the story of a young boy who crossed rivers to attend school, overcame poverty and adversity, and remained steadfast in his pursuit of knowledge and service to the nation.
Rich with personal reflections and life lessons, Letters to My Grandchildren offers a rare and intimate portrait of the man behind the presidency while providing inspiration for young people, parents, and leaders alike. It is a story not only of one individual’s journey but also of resilience, dedication, and the enduring belief that determination can transform even the most modest beginnings into a life of remarkable achievement.
The book comprises 12 chapters, and the Vientiane Times will present each chapter in the newspaper.
Chapter 3 - The Path Toward Teacher-Training (Primary Level), First Intake of the Lao Patriotic Front
I went to ask the two friends who had traveled with me before, but neither would go—they decided to stay home. Both were two or three years older than me.
I told my parents: “I’ll go alone. Father, you don’t need to take me—I worry you might fall ill on the way by yourself.” My father’s heart was heavy, but he couldn’t forbid his son, and seeing my resolve, decisiveness, and courage, he proposed this: he would go with me as far as Sobhao sub-district and wait for my older cousin Boud’s truck—he was a transport driver for the Central Committee and was headed to Xieng Khouang. If he came back that way, Father would ask him to take me on to Xamneua. If not, he’d wait until there were others traveling and send me along with them.
I accepted his plan. Luckily, the next day my cousin Boud’s truck came back from Xiengkhouang. My father flagged it down and asked him to take me.
The truck was already full, loaded with gear and people, some even carrying guns, but Cousin Boud let me climb on at the rear.
As we jolted along, the truck bucked hard, and fearing I might get thrown off, he told the senior man riding there to “Let the kid move inside, he might get tossed out.”
He asked me, “Kid, what are you going to Xamneua for?” I told him I was going to sit the entrance exam for the teacher-training school. He said, “Good. Hold on tight, your future is a long one. Don’t go falling off and dying first!” My father, reassured, walked back home and I rode in Cousin Boud’s truck with about ten other people.

By Times Reporters
 (Latest Update July 16, 2026)