For years I bore the crippling weight of anger, bitterness and resentment toward those who caused my suffering. Yet as I look back over a spiritual journey that has spanned more than three decades, I realize the same bombs that caused so much pain and suffering also brought me to a place of great healing. Those bombs led me to Jesus Christ.
My dream is that one day, all people will live without fear, in real peace, with no fighting and no hostility.
I was as alone as a person can be. I could not turn to a friend, for nobody wished to befriend me. I was toxic, and everyone knew it. To be near me was to be near hardship. Wise people stayed far away. I was alone, atop a mountain of rage. Why was I made to wear these awful scars?
When I meet children and people who suffer, when they mention any kind of pain, emotional pain, physical pain, I know what they need, because it's the same thing I need. They need healing, they need peace, they need joy, they need hope.
In 1974, I cried all day long. I kept putting my well arm next to my left one, which could not move. My mother kept saying, 'Don't be sad. If you cry, I will cry and then we will all be twice as sad.'
Having known war I know the value of peace. Having lived under government control I know the value of freedom. Having lived with hatred, terror and corruption I know the value of faith and forgiveness.
I have suffered a lot from both physical and emotional pain.
If I ever see those pilots who dropped the bombs on me - or any American pilots - I would say to them, 'The war is over. The past is past.' I would ask those pilots what can they do to bring us all together.
I really want to say, 'Thank God I'm alive.' I want to forgive the people who caused my suffering. I did.
My character is not sad, not angry. In my house, I'm always laughing, smiling, smiling.
I remember June 8, 1972. I saw the airplane. And it's so loud, so close to me. Suddenly, the fire everywhere around me. The fire burned off my clothes. And I saw my arm got burned with the fire. I thought, oh, my goodness, I get burned. People will see me different way.
People ask me a lot, 'How can you smile all the time?' I tell them, 'I was never angry. God created me this way. He created me laughing and smiling.'
Behind that picture of me, thousands and thousands of people, they suffered - more than me. They died. They lost parts of their bodies. Their whole lives were destroyed, and nobody took that picture.
Those bombs have brought me immeasurable pain. Even now, some 40 years later, I am still receiving treatment for burns that cover my arms, back, and neck. The emotional and spiritual pain was even harder to endure.
Sometimes I could not breathe, but God saved my life and gave me faith and hope.
When those four bombs fell, I was in the middle and I should have died.
I saw the bombs, and, like a kid, I looked back at them. Instantly there was fire everywhere.
Every movement of mine was under the control of the Vietnamese government, a communist country. I was just a prisoner without walls.
My name is Kim Phuc, though you likely know me by another name. It is one I never asked for, a name I have spent a lifetime trying to escape: 'Napalm Girl.'
Yet I was ready for love and joy. I wanted to let go of my pain. I wanted to pursue life instead of holding fast to fantasies of death.
