Down but not out
Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash
This week I posted what was a rather cerebral note regarding what theologically is a missional church.
Now I want to follow up with a story from Amy Bui, a Vietnamese member of our Writer’s Group, a Buddhist, and who is a friend of West Melbourne Baptist Church. The missional church is one which welcomes everyone, but has a particularity towards those who have suffered, are poor, or marginalized. This is Amy’s story. You can join her every Saturday morning at 4 Miller Street, West Melbourne at 10.00am to 11.30am. -Gayle Hill
Nếu là chim, tôi sẽ là/ loài bồ câu trắng
Nếu là hoa, tôi sẽ là/ một đóa hướng dương
Nếu là mây, tôi sẽ là/ một vầng mây ấm
Là người, tôi sẽ chết/ cho quê hương.
If I could fly, I would be/ a white dove.
If I could bloom, I would be/ a sunflower.
If I could travel, I would be/ a warm cloud.
Being a human, I would die/ for my country.
This is the song my dad sung every morning after the Vietnam war in 1975 when he was at the age of 25. This song gave him spirit, the spirit of never giving up on his dream, a dream of a better life.
Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen, after the Vietnam War, Vietnam was a very sorrowful place. 2 million people were killed, farmland was polluted by Agent Orange, the country’s infrastructure was destroyed by bombing and landmines were across the North. Millions of people had to move to the cities. My parents were part of this group.
Food, utilities, transportation, social services were limited. Rice was our main source of food, but the bombings destroyed the supply. We had to add livestock food to keep us from starving. Families of 4 people were given half a kilogram of meat a month.
After 4 years of moving to the Saigon, my parents had 3 children, including me. Dad worked as a policeman from the early morning until night. Providing food and housing, while studying in the evening. He kept saying to my mum, our life will be better soon, this is just a moment in time. Studying will help us move forward.
Mum then found a job at a catering company. Working long shifts, studying at night, looking after us slowly burnt her out. She was exhausted. Her body was painful and tense. Looking at her, my dad felt defeated. He said to my mum “I will not give up on us, We have come so far and I am still looking up”
In 1980, Dad received some bad news from his hometown, his relatives died from a landmine and mum’s dad got malaria. Dad became overwhelmed and worried for my mum; she was anxious about her dad.
They quickly went back to our hometown – 200 km away from Saigon. When they arrived, Dad took grandfather for doctor’s treatments. It took a month for grandfather to recover. My dad insisted “You come with us to Saigon, I can’t let you all suffer anymore”
Dad took a total of 17 members of both sides of our extended families to Saigon, including teenagers and young children. With my own family, that’s a total of 22 people.
Ladies and Gentlemen that’s 22 people with only 2 incomes. How could they survive? Food, housing, transportation, studying, and safety were all taken care of with only 2 incomes.
Every night, 22 people stayed together in a small house of 200 square foot. Dad would smile when seeing us safe and he told us we must keep moving.
AND HARD WORK DID PAY OFF! Dad created a successful business after years of working and saving. His eyes filled with tears of happiness.
Ladies and Gentlemen, our country was beaten down by French colonization, the US war machine, and the destruction after the war, but we were not out. Vietnam is now a fast-developing country. Our extended family is a unit, contributing towards the development of our great country. Dad changed all of our family lives. He is a game-changer. Although My dad passed away last year, We – the next generation are carrying on his spirit. The spirit of never giving up on our dream. A dream of a white dove, a sunflower, a warm cloud, a better life :), DOWN BUT NOT OUT.