I will always be tremendously grateful that I will never have to experience what my parents had to on this day 37 years ago. Imagine as a young woman who just got married last August, last December the army told you your husband, an army medic, has gone missing-in-action when communist forces overran a town. Your boss told you last month to pack up what's needed in the office and burn everything else in preparation to leave the country. You decided not to leave the country because your parents didn't want you to, crying because they didn't think they would ever see you again. And you also wanted to stay to find out your husband's fate. So you spent all day yesterday and all last night going through your stuffs, burning any and every letter, photograph, anything that could possibly link you to any American or the current government, hoping to avoid being summarily shot by the communist forces that will take over anytime now. Imagine as a young man, you have been marching through the jungle everyday for the last four months. You lost a couple of teeth hurriedly chewing on that sugar cane because your body so desperately wanted some sugar. Today could be your last day being alive with all these snakes crawling everywhere around you. At any moment you could get blown up by one of the mines that littered the jungles. Or you could fall into one of thousand of booby traps that had been set all over places during the last twenty years and be pierced through. Worst of all, neither of my parents had known Messiah and the hope he offers.