My Christmas Story
I am a four years old Hmong girl live in Northern Thailand near a tourist attraction in the second largest city in Thailand. My mane is “NubCi” which mean in “Sunshine” in English for those of you who may not know what NubCi means. My name may means Sunshine, but I seldom see the Sunshine in my short four years I have seen the World. About six kilometer away from my home where people come and go in the hundreds of thousands a day and spent their money like picking leaves from a tree, I have to take a responsibility of an adult woman that is to make a living supporting my mom dad and a little brother. It is December and people are preparing to celebrate Christmas, lights are up and decoration spread the town and place where my mom could take me at times. Plus December 5th is the birth day of the King of Thailand and has become Father’s Day for all Thai. So the decoration telling me Christmas is near.
My Christmas story is this. Every day in the morning my mom will wake me up in the morning, just before the tourist get to the hill where they will climb up hundreds of step to the top where there is a Buddhist temple. There they can pray to Buddha for blessing and look down to the beautiful city of Chiang Mai. My mom will dress me up with the best Hmong custom she can afford with my earning. We will position ourselves at the first few steps of the hundreds for steps to the top. As people passes by they will pause to take picture with me and give me a five or ten Bath for my minutes of friendship and love if your want to call it. (Rate of exchange is one US$ is 30 Bath) I am not sure if the people want to call those moments, but I am surely worked hard and give all I have for them to earn my few Bath. I wanted to be friend with all of them and cherish that moment of friendship for a longer time, but I guest a few seconds was what they want, because I never heard about them anymore. Most of the people will just hug, let me sit on the laps and smile to me for the picture but there are people who would demand for a kiss in the chick, and I have to do it. Most of the time with a sincere kiss, but what can a little girl do when there are hundreds of people want me to kiss them in a day? I am not sure what you would call my life and my story? I am not sure what the words “Child labor” and “exploitation” means, but would you please translate that to me so a little four years old Hmong girl can understand?
While little girl like me around the world are hearing about the Good News of Jesus Christ and expecting gifts at Christmas time, where is mine? Does anybody know I am here? Is “Santa” come To Thailand too? Can someone please sent a letter on my behalf to Santa that I am a good girl too. My home is in Doi Poui three kilometer away from one of the Palace of the King of Thailand.
Have a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Rev. CherLue Vang
Mang Thao Vang
GBGM Missionary to Thailand.
