A New Dream Blossoms with OMY

Our One More Year Scholarship Program (OMY) partners with Shenzhen Charity Federation to support 500 qualified girls (and some boys) for “One More Year” in senior high school. If they successfully meet the scholarship requirements, we will continue to support them until they graduate. 

One of our beneficiaries is Xiu Ying (name changed for privacy reasons), who hails from a poor family of eight. When she thought she could no longer go to school, we reached out to her, and in return, she sent us a heartwarming letter about how OMY changed her life for the better. 

 

 

“Greetings!

My name is Xiu Ying. I’m truly happy to be writing this letter to you, and first of all, I want to sincerely thank you for your support over the past three years. Although we’ve never met in person, your selfless generosity has been a source of emotional encouragement and practical help in my life. Your support has inspired me to keep moving forward.

There are only 190 days left until the college entrance examination. It feels like just yesterday I stepped into high school, but in reality, two semesters have already passed in the blink of an eye. The memories of my middle school days are still vivid, but when I look back on high school, there are very few things that stand out in my memory. That’s because every day feels so repetitive.

Each day begins with early morning reading, followed by breakfast, then classes until lunchtime. After lunch, we take a nap, then continue with afternoon classes. After dinner, we have evening study sessions before going to bed—then it all starts again the next day. Day after day, life goes on like this. Our school doesn’t have weekends off—we only get a break once a month, and that break often coincides with exams. When I first started high school, the pandemic had just broken out, so most of my first year was spent on campus. Although nothing particularly exciting happened during these years, I’ve still felt that my life has been full and meaningful.

As the countdown to the college entrance exam draws closer, I’m feeling increasingly anxious. There are so many things I’m afraid of—I’m afraid of disappointing my parents and relatives, afraid of letting my teachers down, afraid of falling short of the help you’ve given me, and most of all, afraid that I won’t have a future if I don’t get into a good university. The exam has made me think deeply about the future, showing me just how important it is

I’m not someone who believes in fate. If others can succeed, so can I. I don’t believe I’m less intelligent than anyone else, and I know I have a brain that works—I have a chance just like everyone else. One failure doesn’t define me. It may hurt for a while, but it only pushes me to try harder. When I face difficulties, I always tell myself: as long as I keep trying, keep moving forward, and keep heading in the direction of crossing mountains and seas, as long as there’s still a spark in my heart, there’s still a great chance for me.

 

 

I dream of becoming a doctor—because it’s both a noble and humble profession. In order to pursue this path, I decisively chose to study science, even though no one else around me did. That’s because our basic education in primary school wasn’t very strong. But I made that choice because I wanted to study medicine. Right now, my only wish is to get into university, major in medicine, work hard to master medical skills, and one day help the poor and sick.

I come from a rural family myself, and I’ve witnessed many tragedies caused by poverty. I’ve seen people die because they couldn’t afford treatment. Some didn’t even believe in medicine, and simply lay in bed waiting for death, or followed superstitions. I want to use my actions to awaken hope in them. Being a doctor might seem like nothing special to others, but to me, it means everything.

I’ve rarely gotten sick in my life. I’ve never had an injection, IV drip, or taken medicine. Even when flu outbreaks hit my class and many classmates fell ill, I stayed healthy. Watching them suffer with high fevers and then recover with treatment made me believe even more in the power of medicine.

There’s also someone I remember clearly—a girl whose face was accidentally burned. She wore a hat every day and walked with her head down. We thought it was normal at first, but we later realized she was deeply self-conscious because of her scars. She always kept to herself—eating alone, walking alone, standing alone on the playground. It broke my heart to see her like that. If only she could receive reconstructive treatment, maybe she’d become confident again—maybe she was once a bright, outgoing girl.

Now, life in my family is slowly improving. My youngest brother has started junior high, the other two are already in middle school, my sister is in high school, and my oldest sister has graduated from university and is currently job-hunting. Although things are getting better, my parents are aging rapidly. My mother’s white hair can’t even be covered by dye anymore, and my father’s wrinkles are countless. I wish they could age just a little more slowly.

Thank you so much for listening to all these little stories of mine. Finally, I sincerely wish you good health, success at work, and a happy life!”