The promise was made beside a hospital bed in Vancouver six years ago, as John Chen battled terminal cancer. His final wish wasn’t for himself, but for his teenage daughters: that they would pursue higher education despite the financial and emotional challenges his absence would create. Last week, that promise became reality when sisters Mei and Lin Chen, 23 and 21, walked across the University of British Columbia’s graduation stage just fifteen minutes apart.
“I can still hear him saying, ‘Education is the one thing no one can take from you,'” Mei told me during an interview at their modest east Vancouver apartment. “When we walked across that stage, it wasn’t just for us—it was for him too.”
The sisters’ journey wasn’t straightforward. After John’s death in 2019, their mother Sarah took on additional shifts at a local bakery while the sisters balanced part-time jobs, scholarships, and full course loads. Lin majored in environmental science while Mei pursued business administration, both maintaining impressive academic records despite their circumstances.
“There were nights we’d study until 3 a.m., then get up for work at 6,” explained Lin. “But we’d look at Dad’s photo on the desk and somehow find the energy to continue.”
Their story represents a broader reality facing many Canadian students. According to Statistics Canada, approximately 40% of university students work more than 20 hours weekly while studying full-time. For those from single-parent households, the percentage climbs even higher.
Dr. Elizabeth Morgan, Associate Professor of Sociology at UBC, notes that such perseverance often goes unrecognized. “The Chen sisters exemplify extraordinary resilience,” she said. “Their achievement isn’t just academic—it’s a testament to human determination in the face of profound loss.”
The graduation ceremony held special significance as it coincided with what would have been John’s 53rd birthday. The sisters wore matching maple leaf pins—a nod to their father’s pride in becoming a Canadian citizen after immigrating from Taiwan in 1998.
Their mother Sarah, watching from the audience, described the moment as bittersweet. “John would be so proud. He always believed education would give them choices he never had.”
Beyond academic achievement, the sisters have established a modest scholarship fund for students who have lost parents, seeded with money they saved from their part-time jobs. “It’s not much yet,” Mei acknowledged, “but it’s a beginning. Dad taught us that success means nothing if you don’t help others along the way.”
As Canada faces increasing costs of higher education, with tuition rising an average of 3.7% annually according to CO24 News, stories like the Chen sisters’ highlight both the challenges and triumphs within our educational system.
Lin has already secured a position with an environmental consulting firm in Vancouver, while Mei will pursue graduate studies in sustainable business practices at the University of Toronto this fall.
“We’re taking different paths now, but we’re carrying the same promise,” Lin reflected. “Dad wanted us to build lives with purpose, not just degrees.”
As we reflect on this remarkable story of familial devotion and academic perseverance, one question remains: What invisible struggles might we be overlooking in those around us who quietly persist despite profound personal challenges?
