The Mountains Sing

by Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai

If our stories survive, we will not die, even when our bodies are no longer here on this earth.

Human lives were short and fragile. Time and illnesses consumed us, like flames burning away these pieces of wood. But it didn’t matter how long or short we lived. It mattered more how much light we were able to shed on those we loved and how many people we touched with our compassion.