Once upon a time...

A little girl, naughty as can be, her name was Mai Doua Xiong. She was so naughty that her grandma and grandpa had to put a little bell on her ankle to locate her whereabouts. That means, if you can't hear her bell anymore...uh oh...she's being naughty!! She was soo small and soo tiny that sometimes her grandparents and parents would loose her, so they would always have to listen to the sound of the bell. One time, she was playing house with a group of little kids outside while all their mothers were sewing closely by them. The children were playing mommy and daddy and so this little girl was the one pretending to cook...except using a REAL knife. This little boy, maybe a couple years older than her also wanted the knife that was in her hand. Of course, she was stubborn and short tempered and refused to submit the knife to the young boy. The boy kept on nagging and trying to steal the knife away from this little girl. And so, with her being the short tempered....put the knife right to his head. He was bleeding and bleeding and everyone screamed and yelled. Everything was a blurr after that. Remembering the boy comming around a couple of days later with white bandages all over his head trying to scare me. I would get so terrified that I would cry and cling onto my father.

Haha...this little girl was ME. Well, I'm not proud of what I did back then...I was about 3 1/2 years old or maybe even 4? This was back in Laos. I think this is what I could only really remember. I've always wondered what ever happened to that little boy.  It was about 10 years ago that my grandma told me that this little boy is all grown up now and living in Minnesota and had once asked about me too. I didn't get the name of the boy or where exactly he was living, his phone number, etc. I've always wondered how he was doing/has been doing. I've always wanted to tell him that I'm sorry. Maybe one of these days, I'll be reunited with him again. If anyone knows of this story by this boy/man, please refer him to this blog. I would love to meet him. I believe my grandma said he was a Yang and was living in Minnesota but who knows now. I hope one day, we can talk and just laugh and that I can tell him that I'm sorry. Below is a picture of me when I was still in Laos about to come to America. I believe this is the only picture of me when I was very young.

Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.”

Kevin Arnold quotes