Ahbao has passed away. He was only twenty-six years old. The doctor said he had pulmonary edema. He was sent to the hospital and a week later, he died of cardiac failure.

Ahbao had Down's syndrome. His IQ was equivalent to that of a one year old. He did not know how to speak. The only way he could express himself was by making noises or facial expressions. He was housed in a government subsidized charity home. His daily needs were cared for by specially trained staff. His parents lived far away and did not visit him for many years. Maybe even the few visits they made to the charity home were more out of obligation than out of love for Ahbao.

Not too many people would mind the death of a Down's syndrome patient. It was like a breeze or a piece of leaf, slipped away quietly. Not even Ahbao's parents showed much reaction. Ahbao was gone -- no more pain and no more sickness. The workers at the home were talking and sharing their remorse. All of a sudden, a wheelchair crashed through the office door, followed by a wailing cry.

It was Xiangxiang. She was also a handicapped person. Her IQ was equivalent to that of a five year old. She was already sixty-seven years old. She wore a pair of eyeglasses; her hair was gray; and she only had one tooth left in her mouth. Her feet were deformed. Both her parents had passed away. She only had one sister who was a nun. They saw each other a few times a year. Xiangxiang could communicate with a few simple words.

"I knew it, I knew my baby had gone . . ." She was crying and holding the teacher's hand, repeating those same words over and over. The sadness and despair were hard to bear.

Xiangxiang's classroom had been next to Ahbao's. No one knew when Ahbao started visiting Xiangxiang everyday around noontime. Xiangxiang would play with Ahbao and would try to make him happy. She too enjoyed the visits. She called Ahbao "baby". She would touch his face and say, "Baby, baby." Ahbao would smile and Xiangxiang would smile back. This friendship lasted for several years. Xiangxiang's tears and her broken words touched everyone who saw them. Those who observed were often at the brink of tears themselves.

Now someone took hold of her hand and said, "Xiangxiang, Ahbao has gone to heaven. Over there he will not have any more pain."

Her sobs slowly subsided. "Heaven? Oh, he has gone to where my daddy went. "

She stopped her crying, lifted up her head, but still a little uncertain asked, "My baby has gone to heaven?"

"Yes, Xiangxiang." The answer was very firm.

She seemed satisfied with the reply. She nodded her head and grinned to show her only tooth. Xiangxiang pushed her wheelchair passed Ahbao's classroom. On the door was a picture. In the middle was Ahbao's photo with a line written by his classmates – "In remembrance of our friend Ahbao." They had drawn a colored frame around the picture with colored pencils. Ahbao's classmates did not know how to speak either. They were unable to remember Ahbao with words, but they gave him their sincere love. Xiangxiang pushed up her eyeglasses and looked closely at Ahbao's picture mumbling, "My baby, my baby."

Ahbao had been handicapped, but at least he had received complete love. And where did this love come from? From others who were handicapped.

*****

Abridged from pg. 9, December 1995 issue of Overseas Campus Magazine