Have you ever received a letter written with such kindness that just makes your entire day? I was that lucky to have that happened to me two days ago. The writer of this letter, whom I consider as one of a few angels that have inhabited this planet of ours with a primary purpose of spreading love, warmth and kindness to others, is named Rose Hong Matthews. Rose writes to us all the way from Ho Chi Minh City which is where she currently resides as an American exchange teacher in Vietnam. Rose, if you are reading this, may I just say thanks again and again for having written to me? Your words of encouragement are greatly appreciated.
With Rose's permission, here is the letter that she had written posted in its entirety.
Thien Phu
Dear Thien Phu,
Thank you for your stories on being Amerasian. I'm an Amerasian, myself. While I was growing up, there were times I felt out of place since I didn't look like the rest of my family. I was born in Vietnam. My mother is Vietnamese and my father was an American soldier. When I was just a year old, my mother had gotten married to a Filipino-American serviceman and we left Vietnam to live in Hawaii. My stepfather was kind enough to give me his last name. My mother went on to have two more children with my stepfather. While growing up, my mother had never told me about my true identity. I also never had any reason to doubt that my stepfather was my father. He is a good man and never treated me any different from my two younger siblings. But then when I was in junior high school, I started to hear how my classmates would refer to me as "Hapa" because of my wavy, red hair and light-skinned complexion. I hated hearing that and couldn't understand why my classmates kept calling me such. When I was 13, my family moved to Seattle, Washington, and I was relieved that I didn't have to hear the word, "Hapa", anymore. Then one day, when I was about 15, after my stepfather and his sister had gotten into some sort of argument, she decided to pull me aside and tell me that he wasn't my actual father and that my real father was an American. I cried and went home to ask my parents if that was true. That was when they both broke down and told me the truth.
At first, I was angry at both my aunt and my parents. Why would she do that? After all, it's none of her business. I was also upset at how my parents could have kept this from me all these years. When I was 18, I finally tracked down my biological father's whereabouts. Unfortunately, by then he had already passed away a year prior. Regardless, I was still thankful for finding out that I have two wonderful half-siblings. I'm also glad that I now have a better relationship with both my mother and stepfather.
Eight years ago, my husband and I decided to relocate to Vietnam where we both now work as English teachers in Ho Chi Minh City. These past eight years living in Vietnam have given me an opportunity to learn more about my Vietnamese roots. I've also gained a sense of pride as an Amerasian thanks to websites such as yours. I like reading about other Amerasians and their accomplishments. Thanks, Thien Phu, for your stories posted on your websites. Keep up the good work.
Sincerely,
Rose Hong Matthews
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
With Rose's permission, here is the letter that she had written posted in its entirety.
Thien Phu
Dear Thien Phu,
Thank you for your stories on being Amerasian. I'm an Amerasian, myself. While I was growing up, there were times I felt out of place since I didn't look like the rest of my family. I was born in Vietnam. My mother is Vietnamese and my father was an American soldier. When I was just a year old, my mother had gotten married to a Filipino-American serviceman and we left Vietnam to live in Hawaii. My stepfather was kind enough to give me his last name. My mother went on to have two more children with my stepfather. While growing up, my mother had never told me about my true identity. I also never had any reason to doubt that my stepfather was my father. He is a good man and never treated me any different from my two younger siblings. But then when I was in junior high school, I started to hear how my classmates would refer to me as "Hapa" because of my wavy, red hair and light-skinned complexion. I hated hearing that and couldn't understand why my classmates kept calling me such. When I was 13, my family moved to Seattle, Washington, and I was relieved that I didn't have to hear the word, "Hapa", anymore. Then one day, when I was about 15, after my stepfather and his sister had gotten into some sort of argument, she decided to pull me aside and tell me that he wasn't my actual father and that my real father was an American. I cried and went home to ask my parents if that was true. That was when they both broke down and told me the truth.
At first, I was angry at both my aunt and my parents. Why would she do that? After all, it's none of her business. I was also upset at how my parents could have kept this from me all these years. When I was 18, I finally tracked down my biological father's whereabouts. Unfortunately, by then he had already passed away a year prior. Regardless, I was still thankful for finding out that I have two wonderful half-siblings. I'm also glad that I now have a better relationship with both my mother and stepfather.
Eight years ago, my husband and I decided to relocate to Vietnam where we both now work as English teachers in Ho Chi Minh City. These past eight years living in Vietnam have given me an opportunity to learn more about my Vietnamese roots. I've also gained a sense of pride as an Amerasian thanks to websites such as yours. I like reading about other Amerasians and their accomplishments. Thanks, Thien Phu, for your stories posted on your websites. Keep up the good work.
Sincerely,
Rose Hong Matthews
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
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