(slide clicks) (gentle piano music) - [Donna] Every year, right before Thanksgiving, my mom would hang a couple of raw ducks on our terrace to dry out for three days.

That was the magic number, she said, and the secret to the crispiest Peking duck skin.

My mom was an amazing cook and a very wise woman.

(mother and camera person speak faintly) Why is it blinking?

- The battery's running out.

- [Donna] My dad, who was talented, brilliant, but stubborn and quirky, said turkey meat was too dry, hence the Peking ducks.

My dad also enjoyed a good laugh, sometimes at my mom's expense.

So one Thanksgiving morning, he woke me up at 6:00 AM and barely able to contain his laughter, he whispered, "Mom forgot to hang up the ducks.

Come see what she's been doing for the last two hours."

We quietly tiptoe to the bathroom.

The door was left slightly ajar, so we were able to peek inside.

(hairdryers blowing) And there she was, in her nightgown, frantically blow drying two raw ducks.

That night, we feasted on delicious roast duck, not Peking duck, (kitchen staff shouting) much to my mom's disappointment, but my dad had a ball telling that story.

To the park.

- Let's go.

- To anyone who would listen.

Okay?

(laughs) All right.

This is very exciting.

(children shouting) I'll never forget a very special summer evening when I was 12 years old.

I was practicing piano, playing the Chopin Waltz in C sharp minor for the very first time.

My mom was in the kitchen making dinner, and at 6:00 PM, like always, my dad came home from work.

But this time, he stands there for a moment, just listening to me play, then races off to the kitchen.

And before too long, my parents come out dancing, twirling and waltzing around the room to my music.

There was so much joy and love in that room, and in my heart, I didn't want that feeling to end.

But when I finished playing, my dad looked at me with tears in his eyes and told me his story.

(boat rumbling) (gentle piano music) He grew up in Ningbo, China, in a very poor family.

He was the oldest of 13 kids, but only five survived childhood.

In the 1940s during the Japanese occupation, (explosions blasting) all the Chinese schools were shut down, and Japanese schools were set up to teach the Chinese students Japanese history, language, and culture.

My dad did not think that was right.

(people shouting) He believed that Chinese children should grow up knowing about the own history, culture, and language, so he set up an underground school for Chinese students.

All the families in Ningbo would secretly bring their kids to his school, and it went very well for a while, until it was discovered by Japanese soldiers.

The school was destroyed, and my dad was arrested and imprisoned.

A few weeks later, a Japanese prison guard came to him in the middle of the night.

It turns out the guard was married to a Chinese woman and their son was one of my dad's students.

The guard set my dad free, but told him that he had to leave the country and never come back.

(people chattering) And that's when my dad left his homeland.

(gentle piano music continues) He came to this country with nothing, (car horns honking) nothing but his hopes and dreams.

(traffic humming) After a while, he got a job, a lousy job, as he put it.

Long hours, very little pay.

He found a cheap, dingy little room in a basement where he slept at night.

He ate one meal a day, peanut butter with sesame oil and rice, and soon he became pretty depressed.

But after a few months of saving his pennies, he bought himself a very precious gift, a radio.

(radio static buzzes) (radio announcer speaks indistinctly) (gentle piano music) And that changed his life, because from that day on, after a long day at work, he'd go back to his dark and dingy little room, eat his peanut butter and rice, turn on his radio, and enter a world of glorious music.

(gentle piano music continues) (gentle piano music continues) (gentle piano music continues) (gentle piano music continues) (gentle piano music continues) My dad told me it was on his precious radio that he first heard my Chopin waltz.

So when he came home on that special summer evening and listened to his daughter play the very same waltz that he heard on his beloved radio all those years ago, he realized that his hopes and dreams had come true.

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