Everything Happens For Good

Everything Happens For Good

As a child, I often used to stay up late watching old martial arts movies from east Asia starring action heroes such as Bruce Lee. The agility and quick moves they demonstrated always left me in awe, often having me imitating some of the moves, fighting an imaginary enemy in my parent’s living room. My fascination grew further when my parents took me to see the karate kid movie. In it, Jaden Smith stars as a 12-year-old boy who moves to Beijing with his mother and quickly has to learn to defend himself from bullies by taking Kung fu lessons from their apartment’s maintenance person. However, My dream of immersing myself into this culture faded as I grew older, but little did I know it would play an integral role in shaping the person I am today.

As I enrolled for college, I remembered my interests as a child of learning and understanding the culture of martial arts. I, therefore, enrolled for a parallel foreign language and culture class at the international education department. In the department, through hard work and dedication, I would get a free opportunity to be an exchange culture student with a university in China. Finally, my long-life dream of travelling to China to become a martial artist became realistic. For one year, I deeply immersed myself into the language and culture classes, taking early morning martial arts classes and evening Chinese language classes. Determining who was chosen for the exchange program depended on a language test, which seven of the martial arts students passed except one. I was among the seven. However, available slots were only five, which meant two of us would be left behind. As the martial arts group, we were always together. We ate together, went to the movies along each other and even attended each other’s birthday parties. We were a very tightly bonded group of friends you would say.

I still remember the day our instructor chose the lucky five. A dull Wednesday morning in the summer of 2018. The gloomy clouds hang low, barely letting the sun rays through. The morning was nothing but unusual. Everything was hushed except for the chirping of birds in the trees and the knuckling of bones during the stretching process. Anxiety wore on everyone’s face. Fate waited. For a majority of us, this was the first opportunity of travelling to a different continent. Soon after the training session, my friends and I set out for the school’s cafeteria for a small bite. The results were conveyed via our online group chat. Everyone one of us waited with baited breathe. We held our phones in our hands, waiting for that one crucial bit of information that would change our lives. Steve was the first to notice a beep on his phone. No sooner had he read the message than he jumped up high with excitement. Steve, Laura, Ruth, Martin and Moses had been chosen as the cultural exchange students of the year. My name was not on the list. Lena’s name too.

I looked up towards Lena. Her face was sunk with sorrow as she covered it with her hands. She looked up, tears cascading down her cheeks, but she quickly banished them off forcing a smile. I fell into a deep gauze wondering what life had become, oblivion of the consolation Lena and I was receiving from the lucky five. “Everything is going to be okay,” they said, “maybe the department will increase the slots to accommodate all of us.” My voice crackled as I excused myself from the group. I headed home and called my mother to break the bad news. The one thing I had worked hard for over the last one year was all coming tumbling down. A big part of my life depended on that one decision. I could not believe my reality. My mother could feel my heart breaking on the phone. A wave of sadness had engulfed me. I tried my best to hold back the seething avalanche of tears, which at the moment I believed could wash away my anger and disappointment.

As soon as I walked into the house, my mother held me into her arms. It was painful for her to see me like this. All she could do was embrace me and let the torrent of my tears soak through her shirt. She had another piece of heartbreaking information, and she knew I would crumble upon hearing it. The doctor had called early in the morning to confirm her diagnosis with blood cancer; Lymphoma. She had been ill for some time now, and the tests confirmed our worst fear as a family. I clenched my fists not knowing whether to be mad or give up hope altogether. I screamed silently, suffocating with each breathe I took. She ran her fingers through my hair as she attempted to calm the silent war within my mind. I was devastated.

Luckily, her cancer was manageable through intense six chemotherapy sessions. Over the following months, I helped take care of my sick mother while juggling my studies, since my father had a demanding work schedule. As the only child in my family, I felt obligated to take up this role, and I often wonder what would have happened to her if I had eventually travelled abroad in 2018. Fast forward to the summer of 2019, my mother had completed her final chemotherapy treatment, and my lifelong dream of integrating myself into the martial arts culture was about to take off. I had been chosen for the exchange program at my college and was to start the new fall semester in Chang’an, China. Looking back at how that period unfolded, I understand now that everything indeed happens for a good reason; one that we may never know at the moment. Although most of my friends got the opportunity that year, I cannot be envious or angry as each, and every one of us has his or her own time.