Kendrick,
Today God gave me strength to write this letter to you. I don’t want to see you walk back through that door never realizing what you did and what you will do with your life. Do you know that my soul is so broken from the night that you turned my daughter’s life around?
I am the oldest of four children who were raised in communistic Vietnam where there was not much food, education, or opportunity. As I grew up, I did not know what freedom truly meant. Life was very hard.
But God blessed me with parents that had the courage and love to risk getting me to America. They paid smugglers to sail me out of Vietnam across a dangerous ocean, and at 18 years old I found myself in a land of freedom all alone.
When I arrived in America, I saw a country filled with hope and good people. I got a job and was able to bring my mom and siblings to America. Life was good.
When I was 28, I had a little girl that I named Queena. She was a happy, beautiful and loving child who cared about her family. I watched my daughter grow up. She had long, silky black hair and eyes that sparkled like stars when she smiled. She danced, she laughed, she played the piano. She was so innocent. Queena had a pure and honest heart. She had many friends. She worked so hard in school and was one of the few seniors in her high school class to receive a full scholarship to the University of Florida. She participated in the student body council, she mentored handicapped students, and she volunteered at a hospice. I was so proud of her.
Today, Queena only moans and utters sounds. She cannot see. She cannot walk. She cannot talk. I have not heard her voice in 3 years.
She lies in a hospital bed and gets her food from a tube in her stomach.
I live by her side, stroking her hair, massaging her face, cutting her toe nails. I tell her I love her and I try to bring her joy. I lift her to her wheelchair every day and wheel her outside and urge her to feel the wind in her face.
I do not understand how a human being like you is capable of inflicting such brutality. My child was so loved, she knew no evil.
I don’t know what your sentence will be as I write. I do know of one person who accepted Jesus while he was in jail. He studied the Bible and helped other people in jail become Christians. I am praying that this will be your experience. How that would bring glory to God and purpose for your life!
My daughter was in coma as a result of what you did to her. The doctors kept shaking their head and saying her brain would be destroyed forever. She was going to die. I ran to the church nearby. I kneeled down and used all the energy I had left. I cried out loud to God, “God, please save my daughter’s life. I still want to have her, God. I don’t want my daughter to die, God. Please help her.” Queena survived.
Why am I telling you this miraculous story about my daughter? Because I want to encourage you to recognize the power of God.
Did you know that whoever accepts Jesus and believes in Him can be saved from their sins and live in Heaven when they die? The Bible says “if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”
We forgive you, Kendrick, for what you did to my daughter that horrible night, not because you deserve it, but because God deserves it. I no longer have to carry the anger. We have no hatred. God will deal with the injustices. God will judge your life.
Any earthly sentence imposed on you is not enough to measure what was truly stolen from Queena. In whatever sentence is imposed upon you, you will continue to have the freedom to move about under your own power, to speak on your own, eat on your own and do all of the daily activities of a normal human being.
I hope and pray that you might one day spend eternity in heaven, but I also hope and pray that you will serve your whole earthly life in prison.
You imposed a sentence on Queena three years ago. The life sentence imposed on her is not in any way humane and never will be.
Queena may still be alive, but in a way, you took away her life, and mine too.
(from Vanna, Queena’s mother)
