CHAPTER 93

2025-10-08

In every stage of life, young people are the ones who hold on to ideals and dare to try. Without ideals, one has nothing to aspire to. Yet having ideals alone is not enough — if one hesitates endlessly and never takes a step forward, one remains stuck in place.

Once, around 2008, I volunteered at an animal shelter with my younger son, who was then in Grade 11, walking dogs as part of his forty-hour community service requirement for graduation the following year.

On the way, we talked about our family’s immigration story — how, in 1988, the three of us moved from Hong Kong to Canada. After listening, he looked surprised and said, “So that’s how you two made that decision?!”

At sixteen, he thought the decision we made at twenty-six and twenty-five was reckless. Given his cautious nature, that was not an unexpected judgment.

Let’s go back to the summer of 1986. One weekend, in our tiny seventeenth-floor flat, my wife — five months pregnant with baby Lun — was sitting by the desk while I lay on the bed. Casually, she asked, “If you were to study theology, where would you go?”

I replied, “If I study again, I’ll have to quit my job anyway. Why not go all the way and study overseas? Not only could I learn something new, but also experience life in another country and city.” That was my usual way of thinking — try to kill two birds with one stone.

At that time, Lun already carried the underlying factors of autism, though he wouldn’t be formally diagnosed until after we arrived in Canada, where he could receive high-quality local support.

My wife thought it was a great idea. True to her energetic nature — the same enthusiasm she would later show when organizing “Chan family tours” for two or three — she immediately began researching countries and schools. Together, we consulted siblings, church friends, elders, mentors, and pastors. Gradually, we reached the decision to study abroad — but dared not yet alarm our parents.

Where should we go? Some said Germany, birthplace of the Reformation, would be most authentic for theology — but without proficiency in German, that path was impossible. English-speaking countries became the natural choice. Yet we could not afford full-time study and living costs in the UK or the US.

At that time, a volunteer pastor at our church recommended Regent College, a theological graduate school at the University of British Columbia in Canada. Its philosophy and flexible learning model suited someone with a background in social work like me. Coincidentally, the Canadian government was then encouraging immigration for professionals and university graduates — social work among the listed professions.

From a practical point of view, we realized that immigrating first would allow both of us to work locally, balancing employment and studies without needing large savings. We could begin our education earlier, though it would take longer to complete.

From the first idea to our actual arrival took twenty-six months — another story in itself. We landed in Canada on September 11, 1988. The weather was calm and clear, the sky a boundless blue. I entered school in 1989, but soon after, a fierce storm swept across the East — figuratively and literally — and my path took a turn. I returned to the social work profession, where I remained until 2017.

In every stage of life, young people are the ones with ideals and courage to act. Without ideals, there is no aspiration; with ideals but no action, there is no progress.

Looking back on more than half a lifetime, most of the things I worried about never happened — and what did happen was never what I expected. Most of my real experiences began after arriving in Canada. Through all the ups and downs, I’ve come this far. My lifelong companion has disembarked before me, and now, I continue the journey with our two sons.

(The deeper reason behind my pursuit of theological studies — dissatisfaction with the management and personnel of social service institutions — will be told later.)