I came to America thinking it would be okay...

It has already been forty years. Back then, I was young and had little, but I crossed over with just courage.

In a strange land, with clumsy English, each day was overwhelming and exhausting. Still, I endured. I believed it would somehow work out.

In the meantime, I managed to buy a house and married off my two daughters.

People said I lived well. But my heart was always empty. This was because my wife had passed away from cancer a few years ago.

She held my hand tightly while lying in bed. "You have to live well without me. It will work out somehow." She said that.

That was her last word. I was left alone like that.

The winters in Philadelphia were long and cold. When I walked alone on the snowy streets, I remembered my wife, who used to wrap her scarf around me and link arms with me.

It was warm then. Now only the wind seeps in.

I stood in front of the photo hanging on the wall every day. "Honey, the girls have grown up well. They are living their lives. It's all thanks to you." The smile in the photo seemed to respond.

The winter in Philadelphia is particularly long and cold.

When I walk the snowy streets, I keep remembering my wife linking arms with me.

Now they say I can live comfortably, but it seems no one can fill the empty space in my heart.

No success in the world, no wealth, could be as valuable as my wife's smile.

In the end, the burden of the survivor was heavy. Still, I endured.

It was because of what my wife said. "It will work out."