Disabled woman finds joy though art

Liu Xiaoju, who stands under one meter tall with a round, cheerful face, has spent her life defying the odds.

Her life embodies a paradox: fragility and fortitude intertwined. Each stitch in her embroidery carries the weight of her struggles and the brilliance of her triumph. Through cracked bones and broken dreams, she has woven a tapestry of resilience, proving that even the most fragile threads can create something enduring.

Born in 1987 in Loudi city, Hunan province, her story is one of relentless resilience against a genetic condition — osteogenesis imperfecta, or brittle bone disease — that shadowed her from infancy.

By the age of three, she experienced her first fracture, and from then on breaks became a cruel routine.

"I lost count of how many times my bones snapped," she said. Simple movements, even sneezing, could trigger fractures, earning her the nickname "Porcelain Doll".

Confined to cycles of hospitalization and homebound recovery, her childhood was marked by isolation and physical agony.

The physical toll of her condition remains ever-present. As a child, the sound of her bones cracking haunted her. "I could 'hear' the fractures and also the cracking sound of doctors setting the bone," she said.

Yet she clung to hope.

"I told myself that in seven days, the pain would ease. In a month, it would heal a little more. I was in great pain today and tomorrow, it would ease a bit," she said.

"Moreover, I did not want to die. My parents never gave up on me and I should not give up on myself."

For years, education seemed an impossible dream.

At 15, after her condition stabilized slightly, she finally enrolled in school, clinging to the opportunity like "a sponge thirsting for water".

But wheelchair dependence and limited mobility persisted. Climbing stairs requires gripping railings, a daily exercise she endures to stay active.

She discovered a talent for painting and calligraphy, skills that became her solace. But when her older sister, who carried her to school daily, underwent surgery and could no longer assist her, Liu was forced to drop out at 18.

Despair threatened to consume her until a visiting art teacher recognized her potential and began mentoring her. This mentorship ignited a spark of hope, laying the groundwork for her future in art.

The turning point came in 2009 when she learned of a provincial embroidery training program for people with disabilities. Despite her family's concerns, local authorities intervened, arranging accommodations and support. "Illness closed one door but opened a window — it let me focus entirely on embroidery," she reflected.

For six months, Liu immersed herself in Hunan embroidery, or Xiangxiu, a traditional craft known for its vivid realism. Her dedication paid off: she mastered the craft and joined a company.

Between 2010 and 2019, she clinched multiple awards at provincial and national embroidery competitions, rising to sixth place nationally.

Recognized as a "Loudi Craftsman", she became a city-level inheritor of Xiangxiu.

In 2020, she opened the Ju Girl Xiangxiu Dream Workshop, a studio funded by local authorities and charitable entrepreneurs.

Here, she trains more than 800 apprentices, most of whom are disabled, offering free classes to empower others.

"I want to pass on this craft so more disabled friends can stand firm in society," she said.

Her work ethic is unwavering. In her early years, she embroidered up to 10 hours daily.

Now, managing the workshop limits her time, but she still dedicates hours each day. To adapt to modern markets, she innovates, combining embroidery with affordable items such as health mallets, hairpins and tote bags priced from dozens to hundreds of yuan.

Collaborations with German buyers — 500-piece orders of embroidered accessories — prove her global appeal. "Young people can't afford traditional pieces, so we create simpler, cheaper designs," she said.

Financially, the venture barely breaks even. "With more people relying on me, the pressure grows," she said. Yet, her focus remains on legacy, not profit.

At 38, unmarried and consumed by her craft, she harbors no regrets. "I'm lucky — I've realized my dream," she said.

Her gratitude extends to the community: "Without societal support, I couldn't have done this."

Zhu Youfang contributed to this story.