Learning Gratitude from a Family of Cambodian Refugees

Like most of us, my memories of Thanksgiving revolve around food. We polished the silver, got out the china, spent days cooking food, then stuffed ourselves at our big meal until we could barely move. 

It took a family of Cambodian refugees to teach me about truly being thankful. It began in 1982 with our neighbor who was a nurse. She had just returned from volunteering in the Cambodian refugee camps in Thailand. This woman informed our town that the camps were so over-crowded that the Thai government would soon begin shooting the

refugees. She pled with our town members to save these people by sponsoring families, so they could come to the United States. Since my husband had served in Viet Nam and spoke a little French, we offered to sponsor a Cambodian family of seven. Another of our neighbors also sponsored a family, and the whole town supported us by donating clothing and other items for the families.

The middle of December, we received the call to pick up "our family" at the Salt Lake airport. There they stood; disoriented in a strange land: a man, a woman, and five children ranging from a boy nine to a boy 17. They had the shirts, pants, and shoes they were wearing. That is all. There wasn't a bag or a memento, except for small photo the father tenderly pulled from his pocket. It was of his first wife, the mother of his children. She and their baby girl had been murdered by the Viet Kong when she refused to tell the soldiers where her husband was hiding. 

As they lived in our home for a couple of months, I watched as they marveled at our indoor plumbing, our stores with so much food in them, and our refrigerator and freezer. "It is good not to have to shop every day." They thought we were "so rich to have a big house and a car". The Cambodians had a hard time believing that I, a woman, had a college degree and could drive a car. Few people in their country had much education and even fewer had cars. 

Never again could I take my freedom, security, family, home, clothes, car, and education for granted.  I will always be grateful for this Cambodian family who taught me to appreciate how much I have.