Born into a body that was not fully formed in a poor rural area of Khanh Hoa Province, Ms. Thuan travelled alone far and wide to earn a living. In the end, she settled in Bien Hoa City, making a living selling lottery tickets at a crossroads.
For the past seven years, the people of Bien Hoa have been no strangers to Ms. Huynh Thi Thuan (born 1977, from Khanh Hoa). Ms. Thuan has neither arms nor legs; small and short in stature, she always stands at crossroads, holding out the elbow on which she balances a stack of lottery tickets and inviting everyone to buy them.
The sight of the woman with no arms holding out her elbow with a stack of lottery tickets at Lac Cuong crossroads is no longer unfamiliar to the people of Bien Hoa.
Wearing a conical hat and simple clothes, with a bag for money slung in front of her, she keeps calling out “Lottery tickets, miss…” and “Buy a lottery ticket, sir…” That is how Ms. Thuan starts her working day, from 6 in the morning, and she has not taken a single day off. She says that perhaps heaven still looks kindly on her, as it has not burdened her with any illness. When the sun shines she wears her hat; when it rains she asks someone to open her big umbrella to shelter her, and she keeps selling until the tickets are gone, then goes home.
Ms. Thuan was born into a large family in a poor rural area of Khanh Hoa Province, where everyone was able-bodied except her: from the moment she was born she was a baby with no arms and no legs. By the time she realised she was different from her siblings, she had already grown used to moving about and managing daily life with her small body. She smiles gently: “What can you do? Everyone has their own fate. This is the body my parents gave me; as long as I live well and stay healthy, that is enough. Feeling sorry for myself would not get me anywhere…”.
Ms. Thuan rents a room alone in a small alley right by Tan Phong crossroads. Although her life and daily routines involve many hardships, she is always optimistic and smiles a lot.
People say Ms. Thuan laughs innocently, but when she cries no one can comfort her. Just five days ago, she cried like a small child in the middle of the street, and it broke everyone’s heart. Mr. Binh, the motorbike taxi driver who takes her to work and back every day, said: “Ms. Thuan used to sell lottery tickets at the top of the alley near her rented room so she could get around easily, but standing there alone, with no arms or legs, she often had young men passing by snatch her tickets and run off. Once, someone took 40 tickets and 2 million VND of her savings from her bag, and when she cried out, no one could catch up with them. Ms. Thuan cried her eyes out all that afternoon, and everyone who saw her felt for her”.
Because her tickets were snatched so often, the motorbike taxi drivers advised Ms. Thuan to change location and not stand alone at Tan Phong crossroads any more. So Mr. Binh took her to Lac Cuong crossroads to sell. There, two or three three-wheeled taxi and motorbike taxi drivers always stand behind her, “keeping watch” over her; whenever anyone comes to pick tickets and… eyes her bag, the drivers solemnly walk over to her side with their hands clasped behind their backs.
Ms. Thuan said: “There are some cruel people; even someone like me they do not spare. I would have made a good profit from selling, and saved a lot of money, but it has all been lost. I have not been able to visit my son for over a year, and with Tet only a few months away, I do not know whether I will save enough money to go home to visit him. I miss him so much, I miss him terribly…” Ms. Thuan blames people, but she also has sympathy for them. She says that although there are bad people in society, there are still more good people. The good people around Ms. Thuan are the neighbour who comes home from work every day to cook and feed her, the two young people working near where she sells who share a few hundred thousand with her whenever they get paid, and the motorbike taxi drivers who protect her every day.
Early in the morning and late in the afternoon, Mr. Binh, the motorbike taxi driver, comes to her rented room to take her to work and bring her home.
Whether it is sunny or rainy, she patiently sits there all day, holding out her short little arm towards the road to invite people to buy lottery tickets.
“I am so grateful to the people of Bien Hoa. I rent a room, and my belongings and the television were all bought for me by people here; whenever I need anything, everyone helps me. The only sad thing is that every night I sleep alone, missing home and my homeland, and I want to cry”, she said. Ms. Thuan married at the age of 27, and the two lived together for 10 years and have a son who is now in grade 5. But now she and her husband each live their own life, and neither thinks of the other any more.
She said: “He was as poor as I was. Our families lived near each other in our home village, so he often came over to my house and we fell in love; I suppose we were destined for each other. He did not mind my disability, and he always loved and spoiled me, but life brought many problems and everyone had the heavy burden of earning a living. Since I left Khanh Hoa, we have lost touch. My son lives with his grandmother, and I send money home every month; as for him, I hear he also lives a hard life, so he cannot look after our child”.
It has been over a year since Ms. Thuan was able to visit her son, because the savings she had built up over so long were snatched by thieves.
Despite all the hardship, she still smiles brightly as she greets the people she knows passing by.
Ms. Thuan also watches television, where she saw Nick James Vujicic, and she has admired Nick since watching him play football and swim. She says she does not have as much determination as Nick, although she longs for it. “He is really amazing, while I cannot even read a single word. I cannot hold a pen, and eating is difficult; sometimes I need someone to feed me. Several times I tried to reach things up high, standing on a water container or a chair, and I tumbled to the ground, hurting terribly”, she said with a crooked smile.
When someone buys a ticket, Ms. Thuan is delighted and leans forward to hold out her bag so that people can put the money in.
She carefully puts the money away in a deep pocket for fear someone might take it.
Every day Ms. Thuan sells nearly 200 lottery tickets. If she does not sell them all, she moves on to other streets and sells until nightfall. She eats only rice with fish sauce to get by, and sends all the money she earns home. Several times her son, missing his mother, has phoned and asked her to come home to him, and hearing that breaks Ms. Thuan’s heart. “A few days ago, two acquaintances came to stay with me for a few days, so I felt happy to have someone to talk to. Normally, being alone is lonely and frightening!”, she said.
Admiring Ms. Thuan’s determination, many people come to buy lottery tickets to help her.
Beside her there is always a box of cold water ready. She says that sitting in the sun all day, she has to drink plenty of water or she will… faint!
The harsh midday sun in Bien Hoa also leaves her exhausted.
She shares a happy moment with everyone after selling the last lottery tickets just before the draw.
Everything in Ms. Thuan’s home was bought for her by kind-hearted people.
Ms. Thuan tidies the house after a day of selling. She takes a sip of water to regain her strength… then climbs into the hammock to rest while waiting for her neighbour to come home and cook for her.
After talking with Ms. Thuan for a few sentences, she mentions Thai Hung, her little son, again. Perhaps she, like any mother, is always worrying about the future of a child born in a poor rural area who grows up without the love of both parents beside him. “Now I only hope that I stay healthy and keep selling so I can send money home for my son’s schooling, for as long as he can study. I hope that one day he will succeed and live a stable life, and only then will I be able to rest in peace…”, she said, her voice sad but still wearing a hopeful smile.
Source: Tri Thuc Tre