After a summer apart, familiar faces returned—and new stories quietly began.
Last Friday, September 11, 2026, we came together again for an evening of stories, conversation, and music.
One of the faces in the room was XiaoNing Zhang, who drove half an hour to join us. After living in the United States for 30 years and earning his master’s degree in accounting and finance in Western New York, he now wants to share what he has learned about financial and insurance matters with people who may find that knowledge helpful.
He didn’t come simply to attend. He came ready to contribute.
We also welcomed a 9-year-old boy visiting Buffalo with his father. English is still new to him, but his curiosity was everywhere—and he bravely kept practicing English with people around him.
And by the end of the evening, a recent university graduate who had initially said she didn’t feel ready to help facilitate the gathering had changed her mind. She wants to volunteer, be the first to speak at our next gathering, and try helping facilitate it.
Around the table were also familiar friends who have continued to give their time and talents—music teacher Jianping Wang, youth mental health counselor Michael, Professor Wen, and many others.
What makes these gatherings meaningful is not simply who comes, but what people bring—and what they discover they can give to one another.
Before the evening ended, we were all singing together—practicing Father’s Grassland, Mother’s River (《父亲的草原母亲的河》), a song based on a poem by renowned Chinese-language poet Xi Murong.
Just another normal Friday night? Maybe.
But around that table, people were finding new ways to connect, contribute, and belong. 
