She told me the story of her life. When she was a child, she watched French soldiers kill her father and burn her village to the ground. Her mother remarried and she went to live in a nearby village with the new stepfather, who beat her often. When she was a teenager, the Japanese invaded and raped her and her sister. She was forced to serve the Japanese soldiers in a brothel, and watched a Jap soldier crush her sister's skull.
After the war, she had a half-Japanese son, the product of rape, and was ostracized by most other Vietnamese because of it. She drifted to Saigon and worked as a rag-picker, shoe-shiner, occasional waitress. Her son died when he was 5 from some disease. She went back to the countryside and married an elderly farmer, having 2 daughters with him, and working on his rice farm for some years. Later the village was caught in the war and burned and rebuilt several times, by the Vietcong (for being "sympathizers") and then by the Americans (for "harboring Vietcong"). Later one of her daughters married a US serviceman and eventually she came to the states, where she worked as a housemaid and a grocery clerk. She's now in the nursing home (her daughter died some years ago in some kind of accident, she didn't say.)
Despite this sad life, her face was full of life and she laughed often while she was talking to me. I asked her if she was bitter or angry about all the horrible things she experienced and she said only, "Lord Buddha teaches us that nothing lasts, life is full of pain and everything is taken away eventually. But if we look around us today we can see beauty everywhere, in the leaves and skies, on the faces of children. I'm lucky to have lived when so many have died, I'm thankful for this warm bed and the good food I get every day."
All you should contemplate this story and be ashamed of yourself for your moaning and whining. If this woman can find joy in life what the fuck is the matter with you?
After the war, she had a half-Japanese son, the product of rape, and was ostracized by most other Vietnamese because of it. She drifted to Saigon and worked as a rag-picker, shoe-shiner, occasional waitress. Her son died when he was 5 from some disease. She went back to the countryside and married an elderly farmer, having 2 daughters with him, and working on his rice farm for some years. Later the village was caught in the war and burned and rebuilt several times, by the Vietcong (for being "sympathizers") and then by the Americans (for "harboring Vietcong"). Later one of her daughters married a US serviceman and eventually she came to the states, where she worked as a housemaid and a grocery clerk. She's now in the nursing home (her daughter died some years ago in some kind of accident, she didn't say.)
Despite this sad life, her face was full of life and she laughed often while she was talking to me. I asked her if she was bitter or angry about all the horrible things she experienced and she said only, "Lord Buddha teaches us that nothing lasts, life is full of pain and everything is taken away eventually. But if we look around us today we can see beauty everywhere, in the leaves and skies, on the faces of children. I'm lucky to have lived when so many have died, I'm thankful for this warm bed and the good food I get every day."
All you should contemplate this story and be ashamed of yourself for your moaning and whining. If this woman can find joy in life what the fuck is the matter with you?
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