Friday, March 29, 1935
Kwangtung, China
I am very good at keeping promises. Today I saw Ma and my little brother, although perhaps I should not call him that. Sing-wah is fifteen, and taller now than I. Your pages are getting tear stained again, Diary, but these are special tears — tears of happiness.
Ma and Sing-wah came from the village to the mission headquarters to see me before I set off to the clinic, a journey that will take several days. We talked long into the night.
Ma was beautiful in my eyes, frail but beautiful. How hard these years of separation must have been on her! At first she was shy, and did not say much, just stroked my hair, and ran her hands around my face. Sing-wah was not shy. He had so many questions for me, most of them about Baba and Canada. I gave him the photographs I had brought with me and he stared so hard at them, I thought the paper would catch alight.
When it was time for them to leave, I made them many promises: that while I am here we will see each other as often as we can; that we will make up for the lost years. The most important promise I made many times — that I will work and work to bring us all together one day!