Do you remember who first planted the seed of your dream when you’re a child?
A dream that would begin spontaneously and subconsciously because you get excited from watching and feeling someone else’s excitement?
A dream that would blossom because you feel inspired to imagine a different way to live, and to take a leap of faith?
Well, for me, that dream began when I was just a little girl.
I got a glimpse of America for the very first time through my father’s youngest brother -uncle Sam.
He was an avid reader of TIME magazine. He would devour everything he found important and urgent, funny and quirky. He would store the information as if uploading data to a computer, and download with meticulous details whenever he found the right audience – anytime, any day. Often, that would be over a family dim sum lunch on a Sunday or a business dinner with foreign partners during the week. No matter day or night, he would turn on a performance as if he’d just flipped a switch. He would go from looking shy and quiet behind his black, square and heavy eyeglasses to sounding super excited and energetic, reporting serious news events or describing comic cartoons. It was a spectacle for me to watch his amusing face and his fluent English.
That made a lasting impression on me.
You see, I was probably eight or nine years old at the time. I was just beginning to learn my ABCs, and English was a tongue-twister for me. The teachers in Hong Kong did not make it easy or fun for us – lots of memorization and mindless repetition, day after day. At that age, I knew no one who was able to tell stories – seriously, delightfully or with humor, except Uncle Sam. He made it look easy and fun. Of course, I was too young to comprehend anything of substance, but I was not too young to feel his excitement. I was excited and curious about what he’s learned through TIME magazine.
Little did he know, he had inspired me to enjoy studying English, speaking up and telling stories. Even though he didn’t go to America for college, he’d planted a seed for my American dream.
Over the years since I’d moved to New York, first for college and later for a career in journalism, I returned to my hometown often and found uncle Sam always greeting me with his beaming eyes and warm smiles. He was always on the lookout for where I was sitting with my sister Helena at church and making the effort to come over and invite us to dim sum after service. We would share stories and trade news. Believe it or not, I always let him do most of the talking.
Today, I want to celebrate the many parts of me that I’ve learned from him.
His curiosity, charisma, care, and concern for those in need. While Uncle Sam has passed from this earth at age 69, I believe his spirit will live on through all the people he’s touched, and many of us who love him.
(Note: This blog is an excerpt from my eulogy at uncle Sam’s funeral in Hong Kong on April 20th, 2018)