The bright yellow moon hung in the black night sky as 41 of us men, women, and children filed into the little fishing boat. It wasn’t the ideal night to be escaping from communism but this was our last attempt to flee a war torn country in hopes of something better. As our little boat putted along the river bed, trying to stay in the shadows of the trees, the Buddhists were praying to the water gods and the Catholics were praying to God. The adults feared for their lives and their children's lives. The children remained as quiet as possible.
I don’t recall the rest of that night or the few days afterward. What I do remember is our sixth day somewhere in the Indian Ocean. It was mid day, bright, and sunny and we have now run out of fuel and food. My mom is so sea sick she can’t even sit up but she laid there praying. All of a sudden our boat started to move as if miraculously we had a working engine. The boat started to come alive with excitement as we stirred about to see what was happening. Opening up my little window to look outside all I could see was the fin of the dolphin swimming next to our boat. It turned out to be a school of them swimming along our boat and propelling it forward as if they were our engine! Our prayers were answered!
The excitement didn’t last long because the school of dolphins left us just as quickly as they had come upon us. We’re now floating out in the middle of nowhere again.
By night fall, we were surrounded by darkness and our hopes were just as black and bleak. I don’t remember realizing I could easily die out there but I do remember a city out in the middle of this darkness! After much excitement and trying to revive my mother from her stupor due to anti nausea medications, we were rescued! What I remember of the rescue was somehow ending up on this amazingly large ship, being able to shower, and having had my very first taste of a red delicious apple. Because my mom spoke a little English, we got first class treatment and got a cabin to sleep in, new clothes to wear, and food being brought to us by everyone! This was all new to me and I was loving life! We were rescued by an American oil tanker and taken to Indonesia. We were finally free!
The memories that I have of my journey is very different than that of my mother’s. As a child, I didn’t really understand the severity of a situation. I just knew I had to keep quiet and do what I was told. What I remember from this experience is the full moon, the small boat, the dolphins, the red apple, and buried somewhere deep is the faded memory, standing on the upper deck of the ship and looking down at our little boat sinking as the oil tanker maneuvered away from it.
The boat that brought me to freedom is torn to shreds by one big wave as the oil tanker turned away from it.
I’ve been told, “God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.” How very true! I’m sure I would remember it differently if I had been older. But the memories I have are my roses in December. It is where my journey begins. God had plans for me and saw me to safety. Though I may have not known him then or for years to come, he was knocking at my door and revealing his love nonetheless. He never gave up on me. And each day is the result of this journey that started 28 years ago.
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