Not long after getting married and before my sister, Lin Feng (琳鳳) was born, Dad bought Mom a servant girl for company. Soontoi (順彩) was five years old at the time. Well, as Mom said “It was a full time job looking after her. Good thing I just wanted her for company.” In a way, Mom should be thankful for the practical hands-on experience in child care. It was normal then for people to be married in their mid-teens. An unmarried eighteen-year-old girl was considered an old maid and a real cause for concern. Soontoi stayed with us for about ten years before she was married so none of us children got to know her really well.

At regular intervals Dad, in Canada, would sent money home. This was the family’s only source of income. After the States declared war on Japan, the fighting on the Pacific closed the shipping lanes, and the family suffered terribly. However, there were many families in this similar situation. Many sold or pawned their valuables such as clothing and furnishing while others hired themselves out as helpers during harvest and coolies the rest of the time. Mom chose the latter route and with help from her younger brother, Sui Wen Zhao (趙遂文), the family managed to cope. With this suffering fresh in mind, it was not a surprise when upon Dad’s return after WWII that they went and bought some farm land.

Don’t have much recollection of the rice fields because they were surrounded by fields of others. But I still have memories of the plot by the hill because the crops grew there were different. It wasn’t (still is?) suitable for rice, lack of water. So Mom planted peanuts and yams. A treat was roasted freshly harvested yam wrapped in tin foil on a cold winter day.

After giving birth to two daughters, at the rather advanced age of 46, Mom gave birth to a baby boy, Kevin. It was a difficult birth. It was only through the heroic effort of Lai Siu Sang, a nurse, that this joyous occasion remained so. In appreciation, they got their son to treat her as an adopted mother.

The move to Guangzhou and later to Hong Kong must have been very difficult for Mom. First she would have to learn or at least understand a new dialect, which, though somewhat similar to the one she spoke had enough differences to make understanding a problem. And for the first time in her life she had to learn to recognize street names. However, this was child-play when compared to the adjustments she later would have to undergo in Canada.

Somehow Mom got the notion, or somebody had told her that there are no coconuts in Canada. So while in Hong Kong waiting for our visa to Canada, Mom would make coconut congee, a rather sweet concoction, a lot. At the time, it seemed like daily. In actual fact, I’m sure it was only every other day. She would have it ready as an after-school snack. Really a treat to look forward to.

On November 20, 1957, we set sail for San Francisco aboard the President Cleveland. Mom became sea-sick almost as soon as we set foot on the ship. She hardly ate during the whole trip. It was a wonder that she survived the 18-day trans-Pacific journey. From San Francisco we took the overnight train to Vancouver. The two days stop-over in Vancouver rejuvenated her.

We boarded the Trans-continental which departed from downtown Vancouver’s CP Station. For four days, our eastward journey to Montreal took us over the Rockies, crossed the snow-covered Prairies and hilly central Canada. Prior to departure, we purchased some Chinese barbecue goods for the trip. Again Mom suffered from motion sickness, but compared to the ocean crossing this was nothing.

In the spring of 1958, she went to work at Wong Wing Food to earn some money to send back to my sister, Lin Feng, who was still in China. Because of the Great Leap Forward, China at the time was in the midst of a famine. Mom got Dad to bring home chicken feet which the restaurant would discard anyway. She would dry them and shipped it back to China. For a time, inside the house there were chicken feet hanging from everything and everywhere.

Packaging and shipping the dried chicken feet was something to remember. Either Canada Post or China had a weight limit on parcels going to China. I remember we were trying to get as close to twenty pounds as possible but had to remained under the limit. It was quite a challenge using a hand scale. One of us would lift it up and another would get on all fours to read the weight. Wording the declaration was extremely important. A wrong word could result in the parcel being discarded or confiscated by the Chinese authorities.

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The Chinese, as a rule, aren’t big on details when giving account of events. A major historical event may be recorded simply by cause and effect. Anybody reading older Chinese writings on historical events can’t help but observe this briefness. So Dad was no exception when he talked about himself.

When he talked about his journey to Canada, the wording was something in the nature of “the ship docked, Uncle came aboard to meet me, he paid the Head Tax and I stayed.” Nothing was said about the ship, the living conditions, the living quarters, the food or the fellow passengers. The probing of his feelings and fears in leaving home and traveling to a far and foreign land at such a young age never came up. The over-crowded condition in Southern China made going abroad to work and support the family an accepted part of life. This, personal sacrifices for the family, is in-line with traditional Chinese culture. Thinking back, there was a feeling that living conditions in the new home may not be that much better than those in China.

Upon his arrival in Canada, Dad went to school for about two months before starting to work in his uncle’s laundry, The Charlie Li Laundry, on St. Denis Street. There he would stayed, except for the four trips back to China, until 1952 when he decided to enter the restaurant business. The hours at the laundry were long – eighteen-hour days were the norm. I remember he talked about falling asleep on his feet while ironing. He showed me one of the irons. The were heavy. It was more of an anchor than iron.

Another part of Dad’s job was collecting and delivering laundry. He showed me his black lunch box which had a thermos bottle inside and the bag he used to hold the laundry. It was a huge looking monster, almost as tall as him. I could imagine the difficulties he must have had in hauling it through his route. It must be really brutal during the months with the heavy Montreal snow-falls. He said there were occasions when the bus drivers wouldn’t let him on because of the enormous laundry bag while other times he would get a free ride because of it.

In 1921 Dad went back to China and got married to Jiu Thue Loon (趙翠鸞). It was, as was the custom of the time, an arranged marriage. They didn’t enjoy too much time together as Dad returned to Canada shortly after.

The next trip home for Dad came in 1927. Their eldest child, Lin Feng (琳鳳), was born on July 11, 1928. Not long after my sister’s birth, Dad returned to Canada and to the laundry, just in time for the Great Depression.

He didn’t say too much about the Depression. I only remember two of his comments:

• Times were hard. There just wasn’t any work. This condition didn’t change until the war came. Then there was so much work that even children were pressed into service.
• Letters from home weren’t something to look forward to. The wording might be different but the theme was always the same: send money.

Despite the Depression, Dad managed to save enough for another trip back to China in the late 30′s. During this trip two major events took place:

• Dad purchased a lot on the edge of the village and built a new house; and
• the birth of their second child, Helen (鳴鳳), on March 25, 1938

Shortly after, Dad returned to Canada. Apparently not a moment too soon, as the war on the Pacific escalated and shipping lanes were closed until the end of World War II. A large number of people were caught in this situation and their Canadian visas expired.

After the war, Dad embarked on a trip to China again. While away, his eldest daughter, Lin Feng, grew up and married. Dad missed her wedding but was on hand when on November 15, 1948, she gave birth to a baby girl, Yuk Ling (麥玉玲).

While in China, Dad purchased some farm land because as he was approaching 50 and retirement was on his mind. He planned to return to Canada for a few more years then retire to China and farm. The hardship Mom and the family suffered when the shipping lanes were closed during the war was another major factor.

Their first and only son, Kevin, was born on February 27, 1949. Upon returning to Canada, Dad continued with the laundry trade until 1952 when he joined a group buy and operate the Jade Garden Cafe in Montreal’s Chinatown. It was a major decision as he ventured into a brand new line of business at the twilight of his career. Friends and relatives advised him not to stay put and avoid risk at his age. Whether he had foreseen the hand laundry business as a sunset trade and the upcoming popularity of Chinese restaurants is something we don’t know. All we know is he made the switch.

Dad’s retirement plan went down the drain with the Communist’s take over of China. The farm land he acquired was confiscated during the Land Reform (土改). Actually, we were fortunate that we didn’t have enough land to be classified as landlords (大地主). Another factor was that both of my parents were the mild mannered type so they didn’t have any enemy who may wanted revenge by coming forward with any charges and accusations.

So, Dad decided that the best course of action was for him to become a Canadian citizen and have the family join him in Canada. However, he did wanted his son to started school and learned some Chinese before coming to Canada. Even after arriving in Canada he would buy from Hong Kong the more traditional text books such as The Thousand Words Poem (千字文)

It was at this point in time Dad and his cousin, Lee Hay Yim (李希蔭), Da Gong’s son, in the time honoured Chinese tradition agreed each will arranged to bring over a nephew from China. This arrangement was to ensure my grandfather and each of his siblings will have a descendant in Canada and take care of their own family. When filing their naturalization papers both Dad and his cousin reported an extra son with the intend of bring the nephews to Canada. The arrangement was for Dad to bring San Gong’s (三公) grandson, Lee Kwan Hym (李群欽) over. My uncle was to bring his cousin Lee Yi Wing’s (李亦榮) eldest son Lee Kwan Fu, (李群富) over. The plan fell apart, however, as my uncle sold the paper intended for Lee Kwan Fu to a distant cousin, Lee Hay Nuan (李希暖) who used it to bring his son, Lee Lum Yi (李倫益), to Canada.

However, all was not lost. Lee Kwan Hym’s immigration process went smoothly. During the interview he gave all the right answers, so to speak. He left Hong Kong for Canada in either late 1956 or early 1957 because at the time there was a host of cousins going through the immigration process resulting in many trips to the airport.

On the evening of December 20, 1957, Dad and his cousin, Hay Yim or On Shu (安叔), were on the platform of Windsor Station waiting for the arrival of the train with members of his family whom he last saw more than seven years ago.

Working conditions in the restaurants were poor. The standard was 6.5 days a week and 12 hours a day with an annual 2 weeks vacation. Dad worked the day shift which was from 10 am to 10 pm. I only get to see him early in the morning and late at night. Tuesday was the day to forward to because it was Dad’s day off, half a day actually. He still had to go in and worked till 4 in the afternoon. In the summer we would take advantage of the long daylight and visited the park. We frequented Lafontain Park which is close by the laundry shop on St. Denis. On occasions we visited relatives and friends. After supper Dad would tell stories of famous people, experiences of the older overseas Chinese, or passages from the old Chinese writings. Unfortunately I manage to retain some but forgotten most.

Every day before going to work Dad would drop by to see his Third Uncle (三叔), Yin Gang (賢簡), who was a long term tenant in a Chinatown hotel, the Hangzhou Hotel (杭洲旅館). I remember the visits to his room. I think it was room 7, a corner unit on the second floor. I was most intrigued by the grandfather clock standing in the corner of the room.

Dad would generally arrive home from work at about 10:30 or so. If it rained unexpected we would meet him at the bus stop with his umbrella. He liked to relax with some peanut and herbalized gin, about 3/4 of a shot-glass. He wasn’t much of a drinker because his face and neck would turned beet red.

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