"I have been; I was a good kid" (True Story)
By XP
When Yan SHE, a sweet angel left this prosperous and uproarious world, she had lived for 8 years. Her short life was of poverty, hardship and painful illness. But it was also of love, strength and tender inspiration for us who remain. As she requested, on her tombstone carved these words: "I have been; I was a good kid."
Yan was abandoned by her biological parents right after she was born on Nov 30th, 1996, barely alive when her foster father Shiyou SHE found her on a patch of turf beside a bridge in a small village of Sichuan province. Thirty years old, single, too poor to afford a marriage, Shiyou has a heart of gold. He was determined to raise the baby who otherwise had no chance to survive all by himself, however difficult it might be. He worked on the land during the day, and wove bamboo baskets at night. A pair of baskets could sell for 8 Yuan, with which he was able to buy milk powder for his baby. Shiyou gave the girl a beautiful name "Yan", which means "glamorous" in Chinese, since the harvesting autumn was the season of her birth.
Yan grew into a caring, bright girl, although frail and often sick partly due to poor nutrition. As to what life had forced on her, she did not complain. Instead, she started showing great affection and deep appreciation for her penniless but kind foster father very early on. Since 5 years old, she had already helped with chores such as cooking, doing laundry (by hand of course). She just wanted to be a good kid and to bring joys to her small family. Even her neighbors were all very fond of this sweet little one. As one of them recalled, when Yan was seven, she caught a bad cold once and kept coughing for a long while. She knew medicine was expensive, so she quietly collected herbs for self treatment according to a folk prescription that she heard of.
That year Shiyou decided to let Yan go to school. Everyday before dawn she walked two miles on mountain road to get to school with a flash light, which took her an hour and a half one way. We may get a glimpse of what was in that beautiful young mind at those moments from a short composition that Yan wrote: "My Road"
"My road is not the small trail that little kids toddle on; my road is not the broad street that cars run on. I like to walk upwards on my mountain road. I like to sing together with little birds when walking downwards. If you are willing to walk on my road, you will hear me and the birds singing. Listening to our songs, you will not feel tired however long the road is. I like to walk on my road."
Yan did very well in school, making Shiyou very happy and proud of her. She would prepare dinner every evening, so that her father could eat right away when he got home after a day's hard work in the field. She would sing for her Dad, and told him all fun happenings during the day at school. The daughter and the father may be short of money, but their love was certainly bounteous.
Yet fate itself sometimes can be merciless. Yan started to bleed often in the nose from May, 2005. Early June when Shiyou took her to a big hospital in the capital city of the province for medical examination, he was struck hard by the result: Yan had acute leukaemia. There was barely time for heartbreak, because he must find a large amount of money immediately: 300,000 Yuan, for his daughter's treatment. With his financial status, that amount was truly astronomically beyond hope. But he did everything he could anyway. Shiyou put his small adobe house for sale, which was in such a poor condition that he could not find a buyer. He borrowed money from all possible sources, and got 10,000 Yuan.
Little Yan learned about her terrifying disease and the efforts that Shiyou had made to collect money. She said, "Dad, don't sell the house. Where would YOU live in after years?" Shiyou patted her and replied, "Don't worry. I can build a small nest." Apparently the unconditional love between the father and the daughter did not move the hospital, for they refused to continue the treatment after the 10,000 Yuan was quickly spent. Shiyou's elder sister, who stood beside Shiyou under the difficult situation, knelt down twice before the doctors, "Please, please, have pity. Please save my niece. I'll get a loan to repay the hospital." Her pleas were turned down.
The poor family wept together. One day the 8 year old held her father's hand and said, "Dad, I want to die." "Why? You are only 8 years old!" Shiyou asked with surprise. "I am an abandoned kid. Maybe my life is lesser. We could not pay for it. Let's go home!" On June, 18th, Yan, a second grade, wrote on her own medical record for her illiterate father:" I shall give up treatment for Yan She voluntarily."
When they got home on the same day, Yan made a request - she had never asked for anything before - to be able to wear new clothes once, and to have a photograph taken. She explained to her father and aunt, "When Dad misses me after I'm gone, he could look at my picture." The grown-ups broke into tears. They bought the girl two sets of new clothes and took her to the photostudio in the nearest town.
Yan's constitution weakened fast. Sometimes she stood on the road to school in the village with tears in her eyes, for school had become a dream too far for her to reach. But Yan still insisted on doing chores: cooking, washing clothes, cutting grass. Everyday she washed her hair, made herself as pretty and clean as possible. She said, "I hope when you think of me in the future, you will think that I was a good kid."
Mercy finally fell upon the girl when all seemed in despair. A reporter, Yan Fu, heard her story at the hospital. She went to her home at once and brought her back to a children's hospital in Chengdu. The news report was published on local newspaper and the story soon spread out over the internet. The whole Chinese community of the world was touched and reached out for help. In 10 days, Yan received 560,000 Yuan's donation. More continued to pour in afterwards.
The hospital worked hard to treat Yan's leukaemia. In all the painful procedures, the young lady showed extraordinary endurance. She did not even make a sound during the bone marrow puncture. After chemo-treatment, Yan kept vomiting, aching all over and having fevers. She went through tens of surgeries. Yet she smiled, most of the time, even though she seemed to forebode her own death as her condition deteriorated. Just as she appreciated her foster father, she was very grateful for all the kindness that has reached her. Two days before she passed away, she asked Reporter Fu, "Aunt, why do people donate to me?" "Because they are kind." "I want to be kind too." Yan took a maths exercise book from under the pillow, "Aunt, this is my will."
It was clearly written separately at at least six different times. A little disorganized, the "will" included a few points. Since Shiyou once told her that if she died, he would "cut his own throat", she wrote, "Dad, don't be mad. Don't cut your throat. Aunt Fu please keep an eye on my Dad." She mentioned that Shiyou's house was about to break down, "Please help my Dad pay back the 10,000 Yuan debt, help him find a job." As to the remaining donation she received, she said, "Aunt, please give a little bit to my school." To her school teacher, she said, "I want to come back." To all those who helped, she "will never forget your kindness." She wrote down many "good byes", "Good bye. See you in dreams."
On August 22nd, Yan closed her eyes for the last time and all her pains finally came to an end. Countless people wept for her parting. Thousands attended her funeral. At the end of her days, Yan received love and cares from many. Shiyou said, "Her life was worth it." The girl had suffered, but none of the adversities changed the innocence and goodness of her quiet soul. She was kind, caring, grateful for the good from the very beginning till the day she left. Whose heart would not tremble and feel purified in front of an angel like her? The remaining donation of 540,000 Yuan for Yan was transfered to seven children with leukaemia, whose families could not afford medical treatment. That, was the last gift that she gave to this world. She has been; She was a good kid.
03/09/06
