All alone in the world after family's death, girl rewrites life story

She felt a quiet sense of relief.

"For me, this place marks the conclusion of a survival journey," the 32-year-old, originally from Cam Xuyen District in central Vietnam's Ha Tinh Province, says.

Orphaned as a child and left to face life alone, Lien rose from heartbreak and hardship to become a head chef and rebuild her life with strength, purpose, and pride.

Lien lost her mother at a young age. Her father, consumed by grief, turned to alcohol and neglected his two children.

Their paternal grandparents took the children in. Her grandfather was a war veteran who had lost a leg, and so the burden fell entirely on her grandmother.

In 2004 her grandmother passed away from cancer.

Not long after her maternal grandfather and uncle also died. A year later her father succumbed to illness.

"It was just me, my brother and our grandfather," Lien recalls.

In 2009 her older brother was accepted to a district-level vocational school after two failed attempts to enroll in KOTO, a social enterprise that provides free hospitality training for disadvantaged youth.

However, just days before classes began, he was fatally injured in a traffic accident.

"When my brother died, it felt like I couldn't breathe," she says. "Ours was already a home without a mother or father. Now, with him gone too, it felt like every door around me had shut."

Bien Thi Lien decorating a dish at the hotel where she worked in 2022. Photo courtesy of Bien Thi Lien

Three months later a team from KOTO visited Lien's home with an admission letter for her brother. They were stunned to learn of his passing.

Hearing the news, KOTO founder Jimmy Pham remarked, "The one who needs help now is his little sister."

During her first six months at KOTO, 16-year-old Lien barely spoke, showing clear signs of depression. A school counselor met with her weekly, but to no avail—until one afternoon, Pham sat down with her and asked, "Do you want to change your life?"

That night Lien lay awake thinking of an answer. She realized her childhood had been shrouded in darkness — and she did not want the same for her future.

The next morning she sought Jimmy out. "I'm going to try," she told him.

A turning point came during a class session where students were warned their group might be dissolved due to internal discord and a lack of discipline.

Amid the tension, a usually reserved student stood and shared his own story of trauma and loss. His vulnerability opened the floodgates, and one by one, others followed suit.

"It was the first time I realized that everyone here carried some kind of loss. But without listening or sharing, how could we know what others had been through?" Lien says.

From then on she began to change her thinking and behavior. Her grades improved. She joined group activities, participated in performances, and opened up more in conversations. The sadness on her face slowly gave way to joy and laughter.

Bien Thi Lien (second row, far right) with Jimmy Pham and fellow students at KOTO, 2011. Photo courtesy of Bien Thi Lien

In 2011, after graduating, she worked her way up from kitchen assistant to sous-chef, and eventually head chef at hotels in Hanoi and Phu Quoc.

Though no longer living in poverty, Lien admits that a part of her remained stuck in survival mode.

"I settled for less. I didn't dare to dream. I just wanted life to pass quietly."

One day Pham invited her to a two-day KOTO fundraiser in South Korea. On stage, she stood in silence before sharing her painful past and how KOTO had changed her life.

After the event a partner offered her a job as head chef to launch a new restaurant in Seoul.

"I thought they had the wrong person," she says. "I was inexperienced, did not know Korean, and felt unqualified."

But she did take up the offer and worked tirelessly, cooking, adjusting the menu, and responding to customer feedback.

Within three months the restaurant, led by the then-22-year-old Lien, was thriving.

These experiences gave her the confidence to take a sous-chef position at a large hotel in Hanoi's old quarter. When the head chef abruptly resigned during the peak tourist season, Lien had to step in.

She worked seven days a week, often past midnight. Though exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, she stayed the course. "Ninety percent of the kitchen staff were KOTO alumni," she says. "I told myself I had to act as their big sister."

Gradually the team found its rhythm, and Lien discovered strength she did not know she had.

Bien Thi Lien, 32, in Australia. Photo courtesy of Bien Thi Lien

In 2022 she spent three months in Australia for advanced culinary training. The experience sparked the dream of working there long-term. She quit her job to focus on studying English full-time, secured a work visa and got a job with a steady income in Australia.

Lien said her late brother once dreamed of becoming a chef and cooking delicious meals. That dream, left unfinished, became her guiding purpose.

From Vietnam, Pham wrote to her: "Thank you for allowing us to find you — a precious seed hidden under the snow. Every time I think about your journey, my heart fills with pride. You have become a brilliant lighthouse.

"I can only imagine the joy in your father and brother's hearts as they watch you from above."

Late last year Lien rebuilt her childhood home in Cam Xuyen, a modest yet dignified place to honor the three people she loved most.

"Looking back I no longer feel like an unfortunate person," she says.