Young Ha told her daughters this story so often that it would be impossible for them to forget.
One wintry day back in South Korea, Young decided to cook them pork chops for dinner as a rare treat. She hauled her girls — one an infant, the other a toddler — to the grocery store. But she didn't have a car.
So she bundled them up and hoisted them onto a sled. On the way home, the girls were whimpering because of the cold. Young ran them back to their apartment, but when she returned to the sled, she found the sack carrying her groceries had tipped over, and the meat had disappeared into the snow.
"I searched with my bare hands," Young recalls. "But the snow was white. The packaging was white. I felt sorry I couldn't give them pork chops. It's a sad story."
Made even sadder because at the time, Young's husband was pursuing a college degree in the United States, so she was raising their two kids on her own with the $30 he sent her every month.

"We didn't have much, but we were happy," Young says. "We were together. We loved each other. We had hope."
Young recounts this story matter-of-factly from her home in suburban Chicago, through a square on Zoom. In another square is her 57-year-old daughter, Martha in Minnesota, and she is crying.
"There's a lot packaged into that story," says Martha, who was the infant on that sled. "It's a story of hard work. Sacrifice. Resolve. About hope. And about success, and how all those things come together to make a better life."