The Mountains Sing(88)

“Thu?n,” I called, and a boy turned. His face was smeared with soil. His mouth opened and twisted. I stumbled over to him.

Thu?n’s body was warm against mine. My flesh and blood, my life. I held him to my heart. Kissing his tears away, I knew I would die any day for my son to live on.

Nun Hi?n was inside the room, sitting beside a sick child, rubbing his back, humming a lullaby.

As I walked through the half-open door, her thin face lit up in the afternoon light. “Di?u Lan?”

Out in the yard, she apologized for the state of the children. The government had further tightened its control over religious beliefs. Most people had stopped coming to pagodas to pray. Without their donations, she and the children had to survive on begging.

I learned then that your mother had been bringing food to feed Thu?n and the other children.

“I’m so thankful for your help.” Nun Hi?n squeezed Ng?c’s hand. “I’m sorry you couldn’t stay here with us.”

I pulled Nun Hi?n aside, giving her some money. “My small contribution, Madam.” She tried to refuse, but I insisted that it was for the children.

“Then you must receive something in return.” Nun Hi?n led me into the pagoda. She burned incense, praying for my blessings.

I knelt next to her. “Madam, please read my future again.”

Nun Hi?n took my hands, only to cup my fingers into my palms. “It’s senseless to know, my child. Our challenges are there for a purpose. Those who can overcome challenges and remain kind to others will be able to join Buddha in Nirvana. You’re a strong woman, Di?u Lan. You’ll triumph over whatever life throws at you.” She smiled and gave me her wooden bell. “My gift to you. Buddha will hear your prayers. Let Him come to you and give you peace.”

So now you know how precious my prayer bell is, Guava. It’s a sacred token of compassion between strangers.

I wish I could visit Nun Hi?n with you now. A few years ago, I went back to her pagoda and stood in front of nothingness. Bombs had leveled the entire building. Villagers there told me they’d found Nun Hi?n under the rubble, bodies of the children in her arms. The bombs had burned them beyond recognition.

I pray for Nun Hi?n often. Not only did she save my life, and Thu?n’s life, but she also rescued my soul. Inspired by her, I became a Buddhist. I’ve been practicing Nh?n, the principle of patience, which teaches me how to love other human beings. Only through love can we drive away the darkness of evil from this earth.

NEXT, LEAVING THE car outside the village where streams of fast currents weaved through rice fields, Ng?c, Thu?n, and I traveled by foot, Sáng in my arms. Here it was, Mrs. Th?o’s home. The door was shut. The pond’s surface twinkled with the floating petals of yellow m??p flowers.

I tapped at the gate. “Anyone home?”

“H?nh, H?nh ?i!” Ng?c called for her sister.

The door slid open. A face poked out. H?nh. Guava, your Auntie H?nh. We all called her name. All of us.

H?nh ran, her long hair bobbing behind her, tears gleaming on her face. I was astonished by how tall she’d grown.

“Mama!” She rushed into my arms. My baby. My beautiful princess.

The house was cool and as welcoming as it’d been. It looked happier now, with colorful paintings adorning the walls.

“Is anyone else home, Darling?” I asked.

“Mama Th?o and Papa Ti?n are at work.” H?nh talked about them as naturally as a child would refer to her own parents. Then she beamed, pointing at the drawings. “They’re all mine. Mama Th?o helped me make them.”

The paintings were gorgeous; they were about joyful families, flowers, birds, and animals. I knew H?nh was talented at drawing but must admit that Mrs. Th?o had brought the best out of her. H?nh seemed to be content and well cared for here. Would she want to come with us?

“H?nh ?i,” a voice called. I looked out to the gate. A smile was on Mrs. Th?o’s face as she reached her arm through a gap, opening the latch.

“M? Th?o.” H?nh dashed toward her new mother, who bent down, lifting her up, twirling her around.

H?nh leaned forward and whispered something into the ear of her new mama, who turned back to the house. As her eyes met mine, she pulled H?nh closer.

I walked out to the yard. “I’m sorry . . .”

Mrs. Th?o gripped H?nh’s hand and walked past me. Inside, she stood under her family altar, turned away from us, H?nh beside her.

“My name is Di?u Lan,” I said. “I’m sorry for leaving my daughter with you. I’ve managed to set up a new home and would like H?nh to join us.”

Silence. H?nh edged closer to the kindergarten teacher. “Mama, Mama Th?o.”

“Oh, my precious sweetheart.” Mrs. Th?o knelt, gathering H?nh into her arms. When she stood up, anger rose in her voice. “I don’t know what to think! When you didn’t come back, I was so sure you didn’t want your daughter anymore. It’s been so long.”

“Sorry, Sister. I wish I could’ve explained my circumstances.”

“Explain them now!”

The children were watching me with their big eyes. I couldn’t lie anymore, but would that put us in danger? After all, Mrs. Th?o’s husband was a government official. But I could see that she truly loved H?nh.

“I was a hard-working farmer with six children,” I explained. “When the Land Reform hit our village, I was wrongly accused of exploiting others. My only brother was killed and my eldest son taken away. To stay alive, I had to escape with my kids.”