Sharing Stories

    Years ago we watched "The Killing Fields" about war in Cambodia. It was filmed in Thailand, and a friend of ours from Missouri was an extra. 
    I just purchased a one month subscription to Netflix, so I could watch a movie I wanted to see: First They Killed My Father. This too, is a story about Cambodia, told from the viewpoint of a little girl. I watched about 30 minutes of the movie, and will finish it later. I was surprised by my reaction this time. I felt the sadness welling up in me...tears threatening to spill out.
    In the 70s, I was in Southeast Asia. I had acquaintances from Cambodia. I went to refugee camps periodically. We even helped a Vietnamese refugee move to the United States where she was sponsored by a group from a church that also supported us. 
    The difference is I am more acquainted with sorrow. I recognize the "dead-pan" facial expressions. I see the deep sadness in their eyes which reflect a life of pain. They are now my friends and I understand better the ravages of that war.
    A family began the walk out of Cambodia to Thailand...a husband, wife, and two sons. The horrors they saw were nothing compared to the agony of the death of one of those boys on the trip. 
    A woman who studied and became a nursing aide heard me speaking Thai to Marvin one day. She replied in Thai, and I learned she had been in a refugee camp in eastern Thailand after fleeing Cambodia.
    Today these people are contributing to the fabric of American life. They have sorrows we will likely never understand. But they are making a huge difference in my life and in Marvin's.