"We need to do something. In memory of him." The doctor said softly to the others, as they stood around a grey granite gravestone. On the cool smooth stone, the name read "Chan Meng" and beneath it, it read, "A soul filled with music."
The matron looked up from under her laced black veil. " I think that's a great idea. What could we do though?" They glanced around at each other’s deep, somber eyes. It had to be something perfect. Something Chan would have chosen.
After a long stretch of silence, Sovann piped up. "We could create a program. A program that can teach disadvantaged children how to play an instrument of their choice. Any child who lost a family member to a mine, or got themselves hurt, can be open to this opportunity."
The doctor nodded slowly. " We could get the funding from the sponsors of Chan. They were willing to put their money into him when he was alive, so hopefully they'll be willing to put funding into a program in honor of him."
"What will we call it?" The matron asked.
There was another stretch of silence where they all thought of the appropriate name for this program. Again, it simply had to be the perfect fit that represented Chan and who he was.
The doctor looked up and said, "How about the Lotus Flower Program." They all smiled and nodded in agreement.
After a while of silent thoughts and goodbyes, sniffles and tears, they all left the gravestone physically, but not mentally. They would never forget the small child, and even though he was gone physically, he would continue to live through this program for others like him.
He had greatly impacted each of their lives in it's own individual way. The matron saw her inner love of music and desire to play an instrument live through Chan. Sovann was truly inspired by the amazing talents of such a young child, and the inspiration pushes him in his teachings and performances.
Chan impacted the doctor most though. The doctor saw his son through him. When the doctor felt he had lost everyone that could have ever meant something to him, he had found Chan. The doctor had been going away with his life looking forward to the end of it, but Chan had refreshed his will to live. He could do so much more, and even though he had lost Chan, he had not lost the love and the memory of him. His last memory of Chan was him passionately playing out his dreams. To keep that last memory of Chan alive, the doctor was going to live out every day of his playing out his own dream; to help others.
The doctor glanced back at the grave once again. Tears filled up his eyes as the sight of the simple gravestone surrounded by dozens and dozens of colorful, lovely flowers. It's just like Chan. The doctor thought. Such a small simple child, with so much color, potential, and beauty radiating out from him...
He trotted back to the sight, and placed one more flower among the many others. His flower stood out most. The petals lay delicately out on top of the other bouquets of Chrysanthemums and single-stemmed Delphiniums. For it was a symbol of Chan's soul; his being. A lotus flower.
