Ray Chan was my first appointment on my first day in Hong Kong in the spring of 2002.  Ray was the sales manager for a windchime factory.  I had found his factory on the internet before I flew to Hong Kong.  I had exchanged emails with him, and now we were meeting for breakfast at the Holiday Inn on Nathan Road in Kowloon where I was staying. Ray was on time, I overslept, but when I got to the lobby he was waiting patiently for me. 

A young man in his 20s, Ray was well-spoken, poised, and interested in me, his new customer from the US.  After breakfast Ray drove me to his factory showroom in an industrial section of Hong Kong.  I selected some windchimes, we agreed on a price, and Ray was to have a sample for me when I returned from Shanghai in about 10-days.  He took me to dinner that night, showed me photos of his wife and family, then drove me up Victoria’s Peak for a wonderful view of Hong Kong harbor.  We hit it off, and I looked forward to seeing Ray again.

I spent several days in Shanghai, then flew back to Hong Kong on Wednesday.  My appointment to see my samples was on Thursday.  I called his office and Ray’s associate answered.  I asked for Ray.  He paused, then said, “Ray is not here.  His brother was killed in an auto accident two days ago.”  I expressed my sincere sorrow for Ray’s loss and then arranged to come in on Friday instead of Thursday. 

I had not expected to see Ray, but he was there waiting for me on Friday when I arrived at his office.  I sat down in the showroom with Ray and said, “Ray, I am so sorry to hear that your brother was killed.”  Both of us had tears in our eyes as Ray said, “Thank you.  He was a student, my younger brother.”  Then Ray said, “We are Christians.  We believe we will see him, again.” 

Sitting in an office in Hong Kong, seven thousand miles from home, I wept with my brother.   I have not seen Ray since that day, but we are Christians, and I will see him, again.