Hoa Xuan Tu - the farmer without arms
(Baonghean.vn) - I had the idea of meeting and writing about him, thinking of many titles for my article, titles with many images like in poetry, in music. Then, on the afternoon field of the small village of Hung Nhan, Hung Nguyen that day, I came across a title as simple as his personality, as his life.
Yes, our meeting took place in the field, on the road leading to hamlet 4 Hung Nhan. Hoa Xuan Tu was busy tying the bundles of rice that his wife, Le Thi Su, had just harvested, and he was also gradually loading them onto the cart, where two small children were busy playing some game, waiting for them. With a strong face, determined eyes, a warm smile, muddy feet, and his sleeves fluttering in the afternoon wind, he made me feel warm with his special hospitality. When he realized that we were looking for him, he urged his wife in the field: Mrs. Su, leave that for now, go home and roast peanuts to entertain the guests...
I ran behind the cart that my grandparents had joined forces to push the rice home. Their shadows were tilted on the bumpy road. Hoa Xuan Tu’s shoulders were straining to pull the cart of rice with her two little grandchildren sitting comfortably on top. Those shoulders had strained to bear all the hardships, all the rain, sun, and sadness of human life. Those shoulders, those feet had left their mark on this small country road, to write a song about determination, to become a symbol of overcoming fate…
Childhood Misfortune
In his small house, the story of his life was told to me once again. The story that had been written in so many articles, but told by him in a slow voice, a tone that was different from the one he told many years ago, I believe. When the hair on his head had many silver strands, when all the joys and sorrows, illusions, and bitterness had permeated him.
He no longer remembers that fateful day, does not remember the pain of a 4-year-old boy, does not remember whether he cried, screamed, or fainted when the sugarcane tractor accidentally wrapped his arms in its rotation. Perhaps at that time, the little boy's cry echoed throughout the Hung Nhan field, and his family members will forever be haunted by the moment of shock when they held the body of their 4th son, which was no longer intact after that terrible accident.
The molasses press machine created the tragedy of Hoa Xuan Tu's life. It made all the villagers think that life had put an end to the poor farmer's boy. The older he got, the more surprised he was with his "abnormality": Why couldn't he "grow" arms anymore? Why couldn't he have a plastic arm to attach to, so he could play shuttlecock or marbles like his friends?
The boy was quiet with his sleeves hanging down, wandering around the garden, the yard, the chicken, the dog, the buffalo... That's why the family's buffalo became Hoa Xuan Tu's closest friend. Hoa Xuan Tu was assigned to herd the buffalo, even though he had no arms, he could lead it with his feet, or his shoulders, with his small body. Many people told him about the example of Nguyen Ngoc Ky, who had both arms paralyzed but still went to school, practiced writing with his feet and studied very well. So in Hoa Xuan Tu's heart, many desires were kindled. When he saw his friends of the same age going to school, Hoa Xuan Tu insisted on asking his parents to let him go to class. When he took his son to school, he met teacher Quy, and received the teacher's sympathetic look: "How can you write to go to school?", Hoa Xuan Tu and his son trudged back...
Symbol of strength
However, a miracle happened, starting from an unquenchable desire. The eyes of the boy Hoa Xuan Tu behind the classroom door made his teachers feel sorry. "If you like to study, then come to class and sit with your friends" - with that permission, Hoa Xuan Tu began his learning journey with extraordinary efforts. The first strokes were practiced by Hoa Xuan Tu by holding bricks, sticks... on his feet to write on the floor of his house, then when he went to class, he held chalk to write on the old board. Then from chalk, he held a pen to write. Feeling that writing with his feet was "impolite", Hoa Xuan Tu practiced writing with his shoulder and chin. Hoa Xuan Tu was known as a student who overcame difficulties to study well, and for many years continuously achieved the title of advanced student. During the war years, the school was evacuated to Tan Ky, but the armless boy still persevered and studied hard. Until now, Hoa Xuan Tu still recalls those days, the names of teacher Soi from Thanh Chuong, teacher Lan from Vinh... with trembling emotion: "The teachers always stopped at the corner of my desk, asked me if I understood the lesson, what I didn't understand so that they could explain it again..."
Not only in studying, Hoa Xuan Tu also did many housework to help his parents, like a normal child. Tu could also swim, dive, and had a special talent for controlling the family's buffalo according to his own command. When he pulled the rope on the buffalo's nose, the buffalo would kneel down for him to climb on its back, and it could jump, gallop, and run in circles...
The story of the armless boy with extraordinary determination was known to many people and told to writer Son Tung. The writer went all the way to Hung Nhan to meet and write about the example of the boy in the poor countryside, published in the newspaper Thieu nien Tien phong with the title "Having two arms amputated but still studying well, working well, good at sports". And from here, Hoa Xuan Tu became known to many people throughout the country. More specifically, after the article, writer Son Tung was called by Uncle Ho to meet him. He wanted to know more about this determined boy. From here, Hoa Xuan Tu was specially allowed by the Chairman of the Nghe An Provincial Administrative Committee to go to Hanoi to attend the National Congress of Heroes and Emulation Fighters in 1966. That was a memorable memory in Hoa Xuan Tu's life when the boy met Uncle Ho, was kindly asked by Uncle Ho and also assigned Professor - Doctor Ton That Tung to make him a pair of prosthetic arms. Unfortunately, later, in the 1978 storm in Nghe An, the flood washed away his prosthetic arms.
After finishing 10th grade, Hoa Xuan Tu also registered for the university entrance exam (he once dreamed of becoming an interpreter), but then did not expect much because he did not see the results. He officially became a farmer on his hometown land when he reached working age.
In 1970, Hoa Xuan Tu met Le Thi Su, a girl 6 years older than him, from Nghi Van commune, Nghi Loc district. The two fell in love, but the girl's family did not agree to their marriage, because they thought that a disabled person like Xuan Tu could not be the breadwinner of the family. Le Thi Su herself also had health problems due to injuries sustained while participating in the frontline labor force. However, overcoming many obstacles, the two still came to the final decision together. They became a couple and had 5 children together.
But then misfortune struck Hoa Xuan Tu again when among his 5 children, a third daughter (born in 1978) suffered a brain injury after being hit in the head by a rock while playing with a friend at the age of 5. She was paralyzed, her limbs were atrophied, and she had to stay in one place. Once again, Hoa Xuan Tu had to struggle to overcome his fate, work hard to raise his children, and take care of all the family chores.
Overcome yourself
Hoa Xuan Tu's journey to overcome his fate was a bitter and miraculous journey, but in the moment of sitting with him under the small roof, listening to him confide, watching him take care of his disabled daughter, taking care of his grandchildren whose parents were busy working, watching him pound rice, carry trees..., I realized that there was something more worth talking about him, which was his journey to overcome himself. That journey was more painful, more courageous than his efforts to hold a pen, hold chalk, work...
Many times in pain, he could only sigh, there were times when he thought of death when he felt exhausted by the misfortunes of life, but then he did not let anything defeat him, he stood up after each pain, seemingly stronger than ever. Something whispered in his ear every time he was tired, something lifted him up every time he knelt down, something gently lulled him to sleep every lonely and sorrowful night. I think, that was his own shadow, the essence that never disappeared but became sharper in hardship, always there to protect and caress him every time life seemed to be over.
I still imagine in this house, how many dark nights, when everyone around had fallen asleep, and he must have looked up into the abyss and wondered why life had given him so many hardships? I imagined there were times when journalists and writers came back to this poor land of Hung Nhan just to ask Hoa Xuan Tu, there were times when villages everywhere were filled with the song: "At the end of the Lam River in Uncle Ho's homeland/ There is a little friend who has lost both arms/ The bird has no wings but still knows how to fly/ As if two beautiful hands are still here/... Like a little bird that no longer has beautiful wings/ Chirping in his homeland before the dawn/ Hoa Xuan Tu, my dear friend, how much I love him/ Both arms are amputated but life is still joyful" and he, must have lived with pride, thinking that he deserved to receive praise?..
And until now, the 68-year-old man Hoa Xuan Tu has understood that he needs to overcome himself to become an ordinary farmer, not a “hero”. There are things that he has spent most of his life to understand.
As for me, on the way back, I thought to myself, there are such fates, every time life closes a door, another door opens in their lives. In this case, Hoa Xuan Tu opened other doors for himself, so as not to be imprisoned in the narrow house of fate, so that he could still integrate with the world and the freedom that a person deserves. People talk about him as a monument of striving to rise up, a shining example of extraordinary willpower, but I want to call him simply: the armless farmer. Because his hands, the most important thing for a farmer in the field, have been taken away. That farmer still goes to the field to plow, harrow, and harvest. That farmer still works on his familiar field, loving it with all his heart. The winter-spring crop still passes through his life, the rice is still heavy with grain, the harvest is bustling. The pain and hardships were forgotten after each time he filled the yard with rice or played with his hard-working wife with their young grandchildren. I called him the armless farmer, because more than any title, that was still what he longed for and truly belonged to.
