In the year since her husband passed, Shin Ho goes out less than she used to. At 87 years old, her balance is not what it once was. Before his death, her husband was always there to offer a steady hand and help her down the stairs. He was the one who would encourage her to get some fresh air. But without him, Shin Ho struggles to motivate herself to leave her tidy apartment in Queens.  

Shin Ho was born in Shanghai, China. Hers was one of many Korean families who fled their home country in the wake of Japanese occupation. Shin Ho’s family had good reason to leave — her uncle’s involvement in the Korean independence movement put a target on their backs. They couldn’t return to Korea until World War II ended, along with thousands of other refugees. Shin Ho was just ten years old at the time. 

As a young woman, Shin Ho attended one of the most prestigious women’s universities in South Korea, where she studied Korean literature. After graduating, she got a job teaching at a high school. That’s where she met her husband, a fellow teacher. Shin Ho describes her late husband as a serious, introverted man. Basically, her exact opposite, she says with a smile.  

The young couple emigrated to the United States on May 7, 1983 — a date Shin Ho still has memorized. They settled in Flushing, Queens. It only took a year for them to become citizens. “Not like today,” she says. Her husband got a job with Korean Community Services (KCS), going on to become the organization’s director. Shin Ho worked as a stay-at-home mom, raising their daughter. In the almost four decades since they first arrived, Shin Ho has hardly left Queens. Like many New Yorkers, she can’t drive, but she doesn’t see the need to go far. Her neighborhood has everything she needs. 

While Shin Ho speaks both Korean and Chinese, she still struggles with English. When her husband was alive, he would act as her translator — but being understood is just one more thing that’s become harder since his death. With her daughter grown and living across the country in California, Shin Ho couldn’t manage outside of a Korean community. Even at the local corner store, she has to pantomime when she needs help.  

Although she can do some grocery shopping, Shin Ho can’t cook like she used to. Her hands shake, making it hard to chop vegetables, and she can’t stay on her feet long enough to prepare a full meal.  If it weren’t for Citymeals and the home-delivered meals she receives, Shin Ho wouldn’t be able to continue living on her own. 

Shin Ho spends most of her time alone, watching TV. It’s another reason she needs the meal deliveries— the human connection. Shin Ho looks forward to chatting with her deliverer each morning. She also looks forward to the food. Shin Ho receives Korean-style meals, with the familiar food she knows and likes—rice, kimchi and fish pancakes. 

The increasing popularity of Korean food over the years is something Shin Ho has noticed with delight. When she first arrived in the U.S. it was much harder to find Korean food, she explains. Now, it seems like there’s always a new Korean restaurant opening and people from all different backgrounds are eager to eat there. It makes Shin Ho proud that more people are getting to experience her culture. And it brings the taste of home that much closer.