The heartrending story of four orphans

Nguyen Tien Hung, husband of Mai Thi Phuc in the central Quang Nam Province, is still haunted by the day when he heard people shouting in a frenzy around the Thanh My river bank, when he ran over only to hear his wife’s name being called.

The fateful morning

Hung was petrified upon seeing only two arms reach up in vain and sink completely. On the bank, his eldest son, Nguyen Tien Hao, aged 11, lay down on the edge in tears, his arms constantly scratching the earth, “If mom dies, I won’t go to school anymore. Please don’t do this to my mom!”

The next two sons, who were studying in class at the time, ran with all their might under the rain to the river bank as soon as they heard about their mother’s boat accident.

When the body was brought up from the water, the four children were devastated, and ran towards their deceased mother in an attempt to resuscitate and warm her up.

While retelling the tragic story, neighbors of Hung’s family cannot hide their tears. Hai, a neighbor, says: “I still remember the morning of December 7, 2011 clearly. I went to the river bank with six others and Phuc was already there.

Normally, Hung would do the rowing for Phuc, but that morning Hung was taking her kids to school. Phuc was on her own with baskets of unripe chili. She was rowing the boat across the river when the accident happened”.

Married since 1999, the couple had never had a true day of material comfort. There were six people in the family, plus an old mother and a mentally ill brother. Hung and Phuc worked their fingers to the bone in their chili garden.

All the money earned was spent on the children’s education and taking care of the old mother.

“That morning, Phuc woke up early. She said she was about to finish planting the chili. She would try to save up to buy the kids new clothes for Tet”, says Ta Thi – Phuc’s mother-in-law.

Since his wife’s death, Hung has become quiet. In the morning, he takes his three older children to school and leaves the youngest with the neighbor. Then he rows across the river to plant the remaining chili that his wife left unfinished.

Sitting among the newly planted plots, he wonders: “Women must feel so happy wearing a necklace, or earrings given to them by their husbands, right?”

Without even waiting to hear the answer, his eyes are already red, and he cries. Those are the tears of a 40-year-old man, helpless because, from the day he married to the day his wife was laid to rest forever, he had never earned enough to buy her a necklace.

We don’t need Tet, only mother

While waiting for his grandmother to finish the ritual offerings for his mom, the eldest son quickly set the table for his siblings to eat.

The meal consists only of a soy sauce bowl, a bowl of salted beans, and two rice bowls. The four children gather around, the elder ones taking care of the smaller.

Since her death, the children are always dirty and their meals are always too plain”.

After having the make-do lunch, they sit close to their mother’s altar, watching her picture closely, talking and laughing.

Thuong says: “They are talking to their mom! They do that at noon every day. In the evening, the father joins.

The other day I heard the youngest kid say: Mom! Please buy me new clothes for Tet, and a hair ribbon too. The eldest son then said loudly in tears: Keep silence, mom is sleeping. Don’t pester her. Then he hugged his sister and cried his heart out. The little girl didn’t seem to understand, and smiled and went to sleep”.

The eldest son seemed to mature quickly after Phuc was gone. After school, he rushes home, burns incense sticks for his mother, and helps his grandma prepare bathing water for his siblings.

When asked what they want for Tet, the second child cries and says, “We don’t want Tet. We just want mom. If mom could live again, we would never need anything else. We miss her so much!

“My 3-year-old sister used to sleep with mom. But now mom’s gone, she sleeps with me and my dad, but she cries every night.”

At a hollow noon in an airy house, beneath the altar of the recently deceased woman, are four children lying close together, as if trying to find the warmth of their mother.

In their intermittent sleep, sometimes a child laughs out. Perhaps they have just dreamed of getting new clothes, sweet candies and hugged by their loving mother.

The 3-year-old wakes up in disbelief, looks up at the altar and bawls: Mom! Mom! Then the four children burst into tears.