My dad came to America when he was in his twenties, leaving his wife and baby daughter (me) in Taiwan. He spent a few weeks making sure that this new land would be a place that he could raise his child and fulfill his dreams.

We moved to America when I was 3 years old. We lived in a little tiny apartment in Pasadena. My dad worked long hours as a cook in a little restaurant. A few years later, he and my mom opened their own restaurant in the little town of Calimesa. He never let the fact of a language barrier, new country or fears of failure stop him. Since then, he and my mom have opened another business–a bookstore in the San Jose area.

If you know my dad, you are lucky. He has the biggest servant’s heart and is always serving his family, friends and even strangers! He volunteers twice a week feeding the homeless and goes to China to build schools in rural areas. He will probably never read this because he doesn’t speak or read English too well, but I know he is behind me 110% of the way. I love you, Daddy! Thanks for sacrificing so much for us and thanks for letting me sleep on your chest the first 2 years of my life! Happy Father’s Day!