Times are very bad for us.

Thought things would get a little easier.  I couldn't be more wrong ...

My wife, Quy, is very sick with severe nausea from being on the water.  She cannot keep anything down, not even rice soup or even water.  She throws it back up; she is so tired and weak.  It scares me.  I think she might be dying ...

The children aren't much better, especially our youngest son, Phuc, who is only three.  He cries with belly cramps; his stomach is swollen and hard to the touch.  Whenever he goes to the bathroom, his stools are teeming with thick, white worms: some are as big around as my finger.  He is very sick too; he also burns with fever and cries and shakes with chills (or are they convulsions? I'm not so sure ...).  I am very worried about him ...

Quynh, my only daughter (she is 11), tries to take care of Phuc and Thuc, but she is exhausted.  She is in need of rest.  She tries to take care of my wife and the little boys before getting sick herself from the journey.  

The waters have been rough.  I am sometimes worried that the waves will toss all of us (about twenty people aboard this little boat) into the dirty, filthy water.  I pray that a typhoon isn't coming ... there'd be no way we would ever survive ...

We are on our way to the country called Australia.  We will settle there for a while ... that is if we ever reach land in one piece.  I pray continously to Buddha, to keep us safe and protected from harm; I don't think Buddha is listening ...

If we get to Australia, it will be an answer to my deepest, most humblest prayers ...

To be continued.