After college, in the 80s, I worked at a small video company where the mother of her Chinese son co-owner worked as the part time accountant. She was very sweet. Lui told me she had almost not survived the forced march. I was young, chasing women, not thinking of anything like that stuff. I went to Denver to visit some friends and bought her a $2 picture book off the remainder table. I gave it to her. She was just a sweet old lady to me. I didn't give it much thought.

The next day she said she had cut out some of the photos to frame. One of my big eye-opening events of my life. I expected her to throw the book on a shelf and forget about it. To this day, I cannot conceive of the pain one must have gone through to appreciate a small act of friendship like she did. I meant something to her. Me? All I did was say hello and talk to her for 5 minutes here and there. 40 years later, I understand much better.