Grandpa Journey — Working Together as a Family

 The Chuk Yuen Years: Kerosene Lamps, Cotton Cores, and the Simple Happiness We Built Together

Life in the Chuk Yuen Resettlement Area was simple, humble, and sometimes hard. But strangely enough, when I look back on those years, they shine the brightest. We had almost nothing, yet we had everything that truly mattered — each other.

A Home That Became a Family Workshop

Our little unit in Chuk Yuen wasn’t big — maybe 200 square feet at most. But it was always alive. Morning till night, father, mother, and all of us kids worked side by side making kerosene lamp cotton cores and wicks for stoves. In the 1950s Hong Kong, these were everyday essentials, and our hands helped supply them.

I still remember sitting cross-legged on the floor, cotton threads in hand, rolling them carefully, trimming the edges, aligning each bundle just right. My parents guided us patiently — not just teaching us a skill, but teaching us responsibility.

Every wick we finished meant a few more cents in the family tin box. And when a batch was ready, my parents carried the bundles to nearby shops to sell. That small income kept our family afloat.

We didn’t have much, but somehow we always had:

• Enough rice on the table
• Enough strength to push through one more day
• A home patched together with love
• A family that worked — and laughed — together

Inside that tiny home under the shadow of Lion Rock, I learned what family really meant.

Our Backyard “Economy”: Chickens, Ducks, and Survival

Besides cotton wicks, we kept chickens and ducks behind the house. The eggs were treasures — full of nutrition, saved for growing children and the elderly. On rare special days, one chicken might become dinner, a true luxury back then. When we had extra, we sold them in the neighbourhood.

It wasn’t much money, but it kept us steady.
And it taught us that even with very little, you can carve out your own way to survive.

Hard Days — But a Happy Life

Yes, life was basic. We lit our nights with kerosene lamps, cooked with firewood, and ate simple meals day after day. But what I remember most is not hardship.

It’s the togetherness.

No one complained. We all knew our roles. We all pulled our weight. And in that resettlement community, every family was doing the same — supporting, sharing, and looking out for one another as Hong Kong rebuilt itself.

We weren’t rich, but we were rich in spirit.

The Lessons That Stayed With Me for Life

Those Chuk Yuen years shaped who I am. They taught me:

• Hard work — because there was no other way

• Simplicity — because happiness doesn’t need luxury

• Gratitude — because even small things mattered

• Family — because we survived by standing together

• Perseverance — because we learned to keep going, no matter what

The world has changed so much since those days, but the lessons remain in my heart.
Chuk Yuen wasn’t just a place we lived — it was where we learned how to live.