Since Hong Kong isn't a country, it has never stirred up strong emotional or patriotic sentiments. But it is a land of opportunity. I've always regarded it as both a home and a good friend.

I was born in the British colony in 1952. Like so many others of their generation, my parents had fled the mainland at the time of the Revolution. My father left behind a grocery-store business in Canton and, with some money, came across the border with my mother and my two brothers. They felt it was worth the risk and the hardship to escape communism.

Sadly, my father died when I was just four. My mother had scarce means and almost no education. To survive, she took a job as a live-in amah for a wealthy Chinese family. My two brothers and I were sent off to live for extended stretches with various relatives. When I was staying with my "sixth aunt" in Yuen Long, deep in the New Territories, I was lucky to see my mother even once every three months.

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