Are You Happy？


　　Though many years have passed, I still want to ask you, “Are you happy?” I can still remember the scene that you sat on the bench under a parasol tree, with a thick book in your little hands. You were so absorbed that I stopped my pace, not willing to disturb you. It was so beautiful a figure! Winds blew to the south, lifting your thin silk scarf.

　　“Take care. It is cold outside.”

　　You raised your head, glancing at me. With a soft smile, you went on reading the book. I was touched by your gentleness so I started to talk with you.

　　By talking with you, I knew you were a girl with a good education. But the conditions of your family were not very good at that time. Besides study, you had to take a moonlight job to help support your family. However, hard work didn’t prevent you from studying hard. Your only dream was to enter a good university and go abroad to learn more interesting things.

　　Life is unfair for you. I couldn’t believe that you --- a lovely girl with the urge for improvement --- was found to have got muscular dystrophy. At the age of 17, you faced death, afraid of nothing. You still read books. After you lost the ability to move your body, you asked your mother to read books for you. In the mysterious stories, you enjoyed your own happiness. It was such a kind of happiness that healthy people could never feel.

　　I happened to see you just before you were gone. You were reciting the New Testament. It was your favourite book. I just knew that you were a Christian. You were happy because you could talk to God. After you finished reciting the Revelation of John, your eyes closed. They were closed forever. There was a book in your hand. It was different. It was written by you yourself, and it told stories of your own. Now your book has been published. It sells well. I just want to ask you again: Are you happy there?