"We don't live for a single moment but for the ups and downs of life."

— Sun Xun, a donor of the Spring Bud Project

Foreword

Sun Xun was born in 1989, the same year as the launch of the Spring Bud Project. A serious illness once plunged him into a low point in life and left him adrift. It was not until his visit in 2026 to the Spring Bud Growth Camp in Huize County in Qujing, a city in southwest China's Yunnan Province, that he encountered a group of Spring Bud girls who, despite hardships, held onto hope.

The dedication of volunteers, the sincerity of fellow donors, and the pure resilience of the Spring Bud girls helped him recharge. What follows is Sun's personal journal from that visit.

Before this trip, like many donors, my connection to public welfare was limited to the monthly online donation. Although the numbers on the screen carried my good intentions, but behind those numbers I knew nothing about the Spring Bud girls' real lives — their joys, their struggles, or their dreams. I knew I was reaching out, but I had no idea where my kindness was actually going.

Prior to my arrival in Huize, I had been in a long period of physical rehabilitation. Affected by hemiplegia from a stroke, I had slowly withdrawn from the world. I thought this visit would be about me accompanying and encouraging the girls — bringing them warmth and strength.

But once I was there, I found the truth — the girls' purity and sincerity, and the empathy and understanding of my companions, recharge one after another. By the time I left, something had quietly changed. I was healed by the girls, and I gained a fresh understanding of the meaning of strength and perseverance.

During the visit, I went to the home of a girl named Rongrong. A simple conversation there has stayed with me ever since.

Rongrong's father said he hoped his daughter could one day go out of the mountains and escape the hard life. Her mother, however, added calmly: "But hardship is also a way of life, isn't it?"

Before visiting there, I had assumed that a family enduring so much pressure would be filled with complaints and resentment. But this family, facing one challenge after another, never wallowed in self-pity or despair. They remained calm and dignified, with a steady light in their eyes. Hardship was their reality, but it had never become a shackle that bound their lives or extinguished their hope.

I truly felt for what they had been going through. Looking back at my own life, I have stumbled and risen time and again from the bottom.

As a teenager, I was regarded as a loser — failing most subjects. When others dismissed vocational school as a dead end, I insisted on pursuing my passion for computer science. I studied relentlessly, day and night, and eventually ranked among the top of my class. Without a privileged start, I learned to break down my goals: To become a programmer, I researched the skills required by employers, buried myself in the library, and taught myself through online resources.

With solid technical ability, I started as an outsourced coder, steadily accumulated experience, and broke through to higher levels. Eventually, I joined a state-owned enterprise and even stood on a podium, teaching university students.

But just as my career was flourishing, a sudden stroke put me in the ICU, leaving half my body numb. I had to relearn everything — turning over, standing up and speaking. The rehabilitation was agonizing. I often told my students: "All painful experiences will eventually transform into strong spiritual power," and this time, it was my turn to live by those words.

At the Spring Bud Growth Camp, I shared my story with the girls. I wanted them to know: Life is a journey full of rises and falls. What feels like the end of the world today, if you look back 10 or 20 years from now, is just one milestone on a long road. We cannot choose where we come from, but we can build our skills and accumulate our inner strength. Hardship itself does not bring growth — what makes us stronger is the person we choose to become after overcoming hardships.

Most of the girls at the camp were about to enter their final year of high school. They had big dreams of college and the wider world, yet they also carried the heavy burdens of their families. They are bright and resilient — they just need a little extra support, a little more warmth.

I have always believed that every cent we donate and every act of kindness carries real weight — enough to change a child's life and light up a family's hope.

Hardship is a way of life, but it is not the whole of life. Kindness is also a way of life — it reminds everyone moving through their own ups and downs that they are never alone.