In 1995, I had been procrastinating about going to the Franchise Tax Board in San Francisco to get answers to an issue. I finally decided to get it over with and drove to the city from San Anselmo. About twenty people had numbers lower than mine. As I waited on a foldout chair, I met Ung sitting next to me. She had slightly wrinkled skin and streaks of gray in her hair. I thought she was about fifty. We struck up a conversation, and I found out that she was from Cambodia.
I said, "My ex-husband was in Cambodia in 1972, and thought it was a beautiful land."
She said, "I like to remember Cambodia as it used to be, before the war. I came to the United States in 1982. When I go to visit, it is no better than when I left. It is changed and will never be the same. Since the war we have had terrible, terrible times.
“The movie The Killing Fields was nothing compared to how bad life was for years and years. It was terrible, terrible. Ten members of my family are dead because of the war. My parents and all my brothers and sisters are dead; only two relatives are left. They all died in the 1970s when millions of my people were murdered." She emphasized her point by slicing the air horizontally across her throat.
I had no words for what I was hearing and just nodded my head.
"If you had an education, you were automatically killed. Many tried to leave by walking trails into Thailand but were blown up by land mines in the ground. Only those willing to sacrifice themselves went first, and then we followed, trying to step where they stepped so we wouldn't blow up. Two times I saw people blow up with legs and arms flying everywhere. I went back and didn't try to leave again. Many people went insane. It was a terrible time in my country."
"Everyone worked. No one got money for working; we got food. We were paid each day with enough food for one day. If you worked, you got food. If you didn't work, you didn't get food."
"But what happened to sick and old people?" I asked.
She answered, "If you didn't work, you didn't get food. Many people died."
"What about feeding children?"
"Very little was given for children. In 1976, 1 got pregnant and was given very little food when I could not work. After the baby came, I couldn't make much milk because I didn't get enough food. I tried very hard to make milk, but very little came. I tried very hard to keep her alive. She didn't get enough food to live. My baby died at seven months. Even though she was dying, when I looked at my baby, I saw God. She gave me hope. Now, when I think of my baby, I remember God. And when I think of God, I remember my baby. Because there is a God, I could stop grieving. If there was no God, I could never stop."
My number was called. “Thank you for telling me your story; it is an important story, I said.”
She replied, “Thank you for letting me practice English.”
Ung was all I could think about during the five minutes it took to get my legal question answered. As soon as my appointment ended, I looked for her everywhere in the room and outside the building, but she had vanished. It was like she never existed.
Driving home, I repeatedly went over our conversation.
She spoke only with love and sadness. I heard no anger or hate for the evil that had caused so much anguish for her and the millions of other people.
That conversation was thirty years ago. The questions I asked myself then are still relevant today.
—Who would I have become in those circumstances?
—Would I have been willing to lead others out and die for it?
—Would I still experience compassion and love?
—Would I have been able to find God in the midst of evil as she did? How would you answer?
Peace & Love,
Heather
DISCLAIMER:
Nothing I write is meant as personal advice, so please be discerning. Do not believe anything I write without first seeing if it is true for you. If it is, fine. If it isn’t, put it aside.
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