January 3 came and went, and nothing earth-shattering occurred. Most of the world continued to travel down their yellow brick roads; it was just another day. However, half a world away from me, it was A Ngal Lay's 6^th birthday. A Ngal Lay isn’t her actual name; I’ll explain later.

But first, the backstory. On my third trip to Myanmar, I told my children, Moh Moh and Ko Ko, that we were going on a family tour together. Since both of them are tour guides, Moh Moh was my guide on my first trip, and Ko Ko was my guide on my second trip, I said that I wanted to return to Bagan. I wanted to go on a hot-air balloon ride with my family over the 40 square miles of stupas, temples, pagodas, and monasteries. There were 10,000 buildings constructed between the 9th and 13th centuries. However, only 2,500 remain intact today. The rest of the tour was up to them. They took me to places that Westerners rarely visit.

Not far from Bagan, we went to Set Set Yo. Well, I never actually saw the village. We drove into a large open area with several buildings, including a Buddhist monastery where several dozen monks lived. The rest was a large field. Children from infants to early teens were essentially left in an open-air daycare center. A child to wander all over an area of several football fields. A child was safe since there weren’t any streets around with cars.

We got out of our minivan. Ko Ko and Moh Moh selected Set Set Yo so that I could see the traditional dress code and hairstyles. There were several dozen youngsters who wore Yaung Pae Soo, which is a topknot hairstyle. All the children wore the topknot.

I busied myself, flipping children.

Interestingly, the other reason for stopping at Set Set Yo was that my children had bought notebooks and pencils for the kids. Moh Moh and Ko Ko live in a developing country as they struggle to care for their own family, but they share what they have with those less fortunate. Their concern for those children wasn’t something that they mentioned to me. It was just the way that Buddhists function.

While they gave the children their gifts, I found myself with A Ngal Lay. This video was taken by Ti Ti, my granddaughter. I don’t recall how I noticed this infant who wasn’t quite a year old.

Apparently, I asked one of her young pre-teen babysitters to hold her. Ti Ti happened to notice this exchange between some old guy from America and A Ngal Lay. This photo sits on my desk in my home office.

I kept talking to my family about this young child and referred to her as the little one. Finally, I asked them how to say the little one in Burmese. That was the genesis of the name A Ngal Lay.

I can’t express what happened between a baby who wasn’t a year old and some old guy in his late 70s. While Ti Ti was 9 when we first met, it was an identical experience. Playing Scrabble with Ti Ti changed my life. She was the link to her two younger sisters and her parents, who became a part of my family. Talk about giving me a purpose in life.

Bobby Kennedy is my most important mentor. I live by his actions and his words. He wrote, “Every generation inherits a world it never made; and, as it does so, it automatically becomes the trustee of that world for those who come after. In due course, each generation makes its own accounting to its children.”

A Ngal Lay and my family are critically important to me. I have visited my family three times over the past decade, and we chat over WhatsApp and email them. I wish they could live here with me in Crown Point. Despite the separation, we had weeks together filled with countless memories. However, A Ngal Lay and I spent less than an hour together. That hurts. A Ngal Lay wasn’t a year old when we met and doesn’t remember how we processed discovering each other. We stared into each other's eyes. This infant attempted to grasp what was happening.

I have a good friend in Myanmar named Than. Than is a great artist. I have three paintings in my home, which I cherish. I asked him to paint A Ngal Lay and me. When he finished it, her aunt took the painting to her at Set Set Yo.

What haunts me is that A Ngal Lay’s family showed Than’s painting of us over the past five years. She is now six. All that she knows is that some old American loves her. I hope to return to visit my children, granddaughters, and great-granddaughter.

It hurts me that I can’t be with my family. Nevertheless, they know that I love them. They also know I will do everything possible to make their journey down the yellow brick roads of their lives less burdensome.

My message to A Ngal Lay on her 6th birthday is to remember that we met for a moment in time that added so much to me. I want her to grasp that she is special. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think and wonder about the little one.

These are some of the essays about A Ngal Lay. Some of the photos are missing from some articles.

https://www.wolverton-mountain.com/articles/ngal-lay-photos.html
https://www.wolverton-mountain.com/articles/extended.html
https://www.wolverton-mountain.com/articles/great-grand-daughter.html
https://www.wolverton-mountain.com/articles/grasping-reality-i-cant-explain.html
https://www.wolverton-mountain.com/articles/how-will-we-be-remembered.html
https://www.wolverton-mountain.com/articles/the-synchronicity-of-my-mentors.html

This is Than Tun Oo’s email address: theegyar@gmail.com
If you are looking for an artist, contact him.