The 'girl in the picture' is flying

By Meg Johnstone

This award-winning photo of Kim Phuc and her son Thomas on his first birthday was chosen as one of 300 world-class photographs that celebrate the essence of humanity, a project known as M.I.L.K. (Moments of Intimacy, Laughter and Kinship). In addition, Kim wrote the prologue for Love: A Celebration of Humanity as part of the M.I.L.K. project ( www.milkphotos.com). The photo was taken by Kim1s friend Anne Bayin, a Toronto-based television producer and writer ( www.annebayin.com).

KIM PHUC is at the Toronto Airport awaiting the flight that will take her to Washington, DC to meet dignitaries at the White House in her role as head of the Kim Foundation. This day is significant to the UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador for Peace not only because she will visit the White House; it is also her wedding anniversary, September 11, a day marking nine years since her defection to Canada.

Mysteriously, Kim's 9:00 am flight is delayed. On the airport TV, she begins to see terrifying images of the first two terrorist attacks in New York. Suddenly, she is nine years old again, a little girl running naked down a Vietnamese road, screaming "Nong qua! Nong qua!" ("Too hot! Too hot!") as she tries to escape the burning napalm attack on her village.

"Everything is happening to me again, my memory of when I got burned, because I saw airplanes and fire and bombs and I know that something terrible is happening," Kim says.

Weeping and shaken from the traumatic flashback experience, Kim boarded her flight. Minutes later, the pilot announced they would be turning back -- all US airports had been closed. Not until many hours later when Kim returned home would she learn that a hijacked plane had also been destined for the very place where she was to have been promoting peace as head of the Kim Foundation that helps child victims of war.

After the June 8, 1972 attack, the now-famous image of nine-year-old Kim appeared on front pages of newspapers around the world, forever changing Kim's life, and the way the entire world looked at war.

Since that time, Kim, now 38 years old, has become an international symbol for peace, promoting love and forgiveness around the world both in her role as UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador, and as head of the Kim Foundation.

Her 1972 photo was recently featured on the cover of the October Common Ground magazine, with the headline 'Peace not war: No more Vietnams.' What is not as well-known about Kim is the story of how she came to find the love and forgiveness of which she now speaks through Christ, and how a Quaker woman in Newfoundland helped Kim and her husband settle in Canada after their defection here eight years ago.

After snapping the photo of Kim that would later win him a Pulitzer Prize, AP photographer Nick Ut scooped Kim up and rushed her to a hospital where she began receiving treatment for her burns. Seventeen operations and 12 years later, Kim regained movement in her badly burned neck and shoulder. Still living in Vietnam at the time, Kim's dream was to become a doctor. She began to attend medical school. Against the already overwhelming odds in her young life, Kim was thrilled to finally be pursuing her dream.

It was not to last, however. Foreign journalists began appearing in Vietnam asking the whereabouts of the "little girl in the picture." Once the Vietnamese government located Kim, she became a piece of living propaganda.

Kim was forced to leave Saigon and her studies to work for her local government, giving interviews with foreign journalists as a mouthpiece for the Vietnamese Government.

"I told them, 'No, I don't want [to do this work] because I want to be a doctor -- that's my dream. But finally they didn't listen to me; they told me I have to listen to them and do whatever they want me to do," Kim recalls.

Kim -- whose full name, Phan Thi Kim Phuc, means 'golden happiness' -- says she entered into one of the lowest points in her life at that time. "I was so sad. I have to deal with lots of people around me, watching me -- I'm not free at all. I was so scared, I could not say that it is so difficult for me to deal suddenly with the loss of my hope, my future. I could not say the truth that I could not go to school anymore. During that time I really need help. My family, my friends, nobody could help me because they didn't have power."

Educated in the traditional Vietnamese Cao Dai religion, Kim prayed to many gods, but "I didn't have any answer," she says. "How can I become another victim again and again?" Kim would ride her bicycle to her medical school, stop in front of the gate, and cry "Why me, why I couldn't study?" Because of that, she says, "My heart was really, really broken, and I wanted to die many times, because I don't want to wake up every morning with suffering, hopeless and scared, afraid of doing everything."

"In the deep of my heart, I want to find something, the meaning of my suffering." She recalls one day: "I was just yelling with my face up to the sky: 'God, are you real? Do you exist somewhere? Why do you not answer my prayer?"

During that time, because she could not study, Kim spent her time in the library, reading about many different religions. Among them, she found a New Testament. "Every day, I was coming back to read, and I have so many questions in my mind. We learned so much differently about Jesus in Cao Dai. For example, they say Jesus died, now he has no more power, now is Cao Dai power. What was true? I wanted to find the truth."

During that time, Kim was living with her sister's family in Saigon. A Christian relative came to visit the family, and answered many of her questions, but "I still say 'no way!'" Kim says. She did, however, begin to attend a local church, still seeking peace.

"Finally, I remember one Sunday, I drew this picture in my heart. I said "'God, I really need one girl friend, someone to tell my story to who can understand me in confidence.' I was so isolated; I couldn't say anything true about my story. I prayed the whole night, 'God, if you're real, please answer my prayer.'"

"The next morning, Sunday, I woke up early and went to the church. In the middle of the auditorium, I saw a lady sitting alone by herself. I felt like, 'Oh my, is that real?' I was scared because I couldn't believe it was true. I timidly went closer to her, and bowed my head hello. She gave me a beautiful smile and said, 'Just sit down beside me and we can talk.' She didn't know in my heart -- boom, boom, boom!" Kim laughs. "I was so happy God answered my prayer -- it was the very first time."

Kim and Thuy, several years her senior, soon became close friends. "When I talk with her, I feel happy, but when I was alone, I would feel empty again -- the happiness did not fulfil my heart, I needed something else. Now I can say I really needed peace."

Finally, in 1982, when Kim was 19, she heard her pastor talk about how Jesus brings peace and takes away burdens. "It seemed to me the pastor was speaking to one person -- me." Kim accepted Jesus as her saviour that day.

"My heart needed to be healed," she recalls. "I was so angry, I really hated my life. Why me? I didn't do anything wrong. Why? I escaped the burns, I want to rebuild my life, and then I lost it again. At that moment, I just wanted to finish my life. God showed his love in my life. I felt so peaceful in my heart. The situation around me didn't change one bit, but my heart was filled with joy. I can change the meaning of what I'm suffering and why."

Kim's family, four generations of Cao Dai followers, disapproved of Kim's decision. Her mother refused to give her food, saying, "Now you believe in your God, let your God take care of you."

Kim says God always provided enough to eat, and she continued to pray for her family for 15 years. Today, she says, her parents are Christians, and live with her near Toronto where Kim attends Faithway Baptist Church in Ajax, Ontario. "My mom is now my best prayer partner for me wherever I go -- oh, it's so amazing!" Kim says.

The government closed Kim's Vietnamese church, and imprisoned the pastor for six years. Later, Kim was sent to Cuba to attend university. There she met Toan, another Vietnamese student, and they were married September 11, 1992 in Havana. For their honeymoon, the Vietnamese government allowed Kim and Toan to go to Moscow. On the return trip, the couple made a spur-of-the-moment decision to defect during a fuel stop in Gander, NF.

A friend in Cuba had given Kim a name in Canada: Nancy Pocock. With this single contact, a small purse and her camera, Kim and Toan began their new lives.

"We didn't have anybody at all, no money, no friends, no clothes, not even knowledge about Canada, I have nothing. But I thank God I have faith, and he brought me to the right person to help me," Kim says.

Kim describes Pocock as "a wonderful lady" who helped people from other countries wanting to live in Canada. When Pocock, a Quaker from the Toronto area, found out Kim was the "girl in the picture," she was elated. "She was so happy, because she knew that picture. Because of that picture, she stood against the Vietnam War. I said, 'You know, that little girl is me.'"

When Kim speaks of Pocock, her voice chokes up. Pocock, who Kim still calls 'Mom,' died two years ago. "She had such wonderful compassion and she just helped. She doesn't care about who you are, which country you're from, what you do, no political ideas, nothing. She just cared."

"My dream was I just wanted to have freedom, go to school, find a job and build my family like everyone else, and to escape the famous picture that cost my life so much," Kim recalls. After some time, however, she brought an idea to Pocock. "I said, 'Mom, I want to work on that picture, now I have freedom, I can say no, I can say yes, that is a big difference.' Mom said, 'Oh, at the beginning you said you don't want anybody to know you anymore, you say publicity is not good for you.' But I said, 'Mom, now is so different. Everybody knows that picture, but nobody know about what happened to that little girl. Now I can learn how to forgive those that caused me suffering. I want to share with people.'" Kim says Pocock opened doors for her to begin to realise this new dream.

Today, Kim is able to share how Christ helped her find forgiveness as she speaks around the world. She had read Luke 6:27-28 where Jesus says, 'Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you.' "I couldn't do it; I cried to God, 'How can I love my enemy? I'm a human being; I have so much pain, so much suffering, scars all over my body.' But I just prayed that God would help me learn how to forgive my enemies and love them. Finally, I got it. It's not like a formula -- you make it, drink it, and then you have it. I have to pray daily, working on that, casting all to God. But since he cleaned my heart, I feel free from anger, hatred, bitterness, no more fear anymore." Kim says she tells her mother, "Mommy, that little girl, she's not running anymore, she's flying."

"Psalm 118:17 says, 'I shall not die, but live to declare the works of the Lord,'" Kim says. "God let me be alive; he helped me to forgive. Because of his love, I really believe he can use me beyond that picture. I don't have everything, but I have something I can use for the Lord."

The Kim Foundation, with offices in Toronto, Montreal, and Chicago, is currently raising funds for the children of New York and Afghanistan. The Foundation also focuses on eradicating land mines, and funds hospital supplies, medication, prosthetic and orthopaedic devices, wheelchairs, and psychological and trauma therapy for children of war.