20年一遇，
Once in 20 years,
I could see the Northern Lights from home!
Amazing!
When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?
(Psalm 8:3-4)
Recently, I stumbled upon a gem at the Vancouver Public Library. This book, Exiled Hong Kong Children, was published less than a year ago, and the library already has it available for borrowing. It documents the immigration stories and parenting philosophies of 30 families. I found much resonance in their stories.
In ancient times, Mencius's mother moved houses three times for his education. Similarly, many immigrant families leave their homelands in hopes of creating a better environment for their children to grow up in. However, the transitions are often abrupt and intense, requiring significant adaptation. Both adults and children undergo growth, not only because of the challenges of a new environment but also due to changes in family dynamics and the reevaluation and reshaping of values.
Indeed, every place has its pros and cons. As humans, we are not omniscient; we can only make the best choice within our limitations. The gains and losses after these decisions are difficult to quantify. After all, we can’t peer into an alternate reality where we chose differently. The best we can do is take responsibility for our choices and continue to walk our path with conviction. So far, I firmly believe we made the right decision.
To say that the decision was made solely for our children would be too heavy a burden for them. Especially since, at the time, they were young and innocent, unable to influence the adults' decisions and left with no choice but to follow. I tend to think that it was my restlessness and desire for change that prompted this move. It was a decision based on our personal values as adults, and naturally, this choice has shaped our children’s lives in profound ways.
I am deeply grateful for the trust and willingness our children have shown throughout this journey.
I am also thankful that our family’s adjustment over the past two years has been unexpectedly smooth. This brings me to the topic of identity raised in the book. "Am I a Hongkonger?" This question feels both distant and close. Of course, when asked, I naturally respond that I am from Hong Kong. But the longer I’ve been away, the more distant it feels. Last Christmas, when I visited Hong Kong, I felt slightly out of place, more like a passerby.
Here in Canada, though, we are still newcomers without roots, requiring more time and effort to settle in. Perhaps the saying “Home is where the heart finds peace” rings true. No matter where we are, life on earth is but a temporary journey, and in the end, our ultimate hope is to return to our heavenly home.
