The Calligrapher's Daughter (25 page)
Mother
Sunday, October 25, 1931
Daughter,
Your contribution to Dongsaeng’s tuition arrived fine. Together with the earnings from the cocoons, it adds up to half a year’s fees. He is doing well, making good marks and studying at night, much to Father’s satisfaction. I do not want to overly worry you, but the forestland where your father’s uncle lives has gone the way of the farm. We do not know what became of Uncle. Your father suffers, unable to eat or sleep because of it. He needs your faraway prayers to soothe his angry heart. I also pray daily for your father’s dongsaeng, as we cannot know where he is or if his wife’s family’s similar concerns have also ended. We pray that God’s mercy has spared him, and that one day he will come back to his home here, and then you would be able to know him. I remember his character as being opposite from your father’s: as spirited as your father is
solemn, as carefree as your father is devoted to duty. It was almost as if you could see his smile from the back.
solemn, as carefree as your father is devoted to duty. It was almost as if you could see his smile from the back.
I worry that the midwifery apprenticeship might interfere with your teaching. Lack of sleep can lead to mistakes, so be careful. We made the parsnip leaf into tea for your father, and he did have trouble reading the day after as you warned us. He claimed the sun was too bright. He has not shown any pain for several days. I am writing down how often we use it.
Your father is doing a little carpentry—the most beautiful pieces! It started when a leg on my study table broke and he decided to fix it rather than burn the old thing. How easily he whittled the curve of the leg to match the others exactly. It gave him enough satisfaction that he carved a decorative panel to replace that missing one in front. I had forgotten there was a hole there until it was filled. It makes me wonder what other broken things I no longer see because time has made them unseeable. The new panel is almost alive, the birds and branches beautifully shaped. The wood seems like clay in his hands. This pursuit occupies many fulfilling hours.
I am well if a little tired tonight, perhaps because the moon is obscured and the leaves colored little this season. It seems they went from green to brown in one moment, giving us no chance to notice and enjoy the changing season. Perhaps a harsh winter is ahead. Perhaps it is God’s way of showing His sympathy to us. No money came from the forestlands for some time, so we worry only about family, and, of course, your father is concerned about the legacy he leaves for his son. But he gives him generations of yangban ancestry and auspicious grave sites (we had a smaller ceremony this year on the mountain). He has a talented and smart heir, and a clever and intelligent daughter. We are blessed a hundred times. What more is needed?
I write mainly to tell you to do well in your job, do not overdo it with your second job, stay warm this winter and worry not for us. God keeps us safe from harm and we have more than enough. Work hard so you can come home soon and find a good husband.
Mother
Dragon Festival, June 8, 1932
Daughter,
I received your letter and the money fine. We are blessed that times are not as hard here as you seem to be experiencing. Do not send any more of your earnings to us. We are fine. If you do not need it for yourself, buy food for your students, or paper and pencils. It is right that you say nothing to the Gordons. They are having as hard a time as anyone. Was this rainy season worse than last year, or is it my imagination? Four houses south of the market collapsed in floods last month. Thank God, no one drowned. I have never seen beggars in Gaeseong in my entire lifetime, and even the Gordons say it is unheard of, that Koreans have too much pride to beg, but there are beggars now. You know what your father says causes this shamefulness …
I saw Jaeyun’s mother at the market last week. In one breath, she is pleased that Jaeyun studies at Tokyo University but also worries about the distance, as well as the slim chance her daughter will have a good career as a surgical nurse there, so far from home. Her talk about Jaeyun reminded me of you trying to advance yourself in a world too slow for your ambitions. I can understand her worries. Jaeyun gave up a decent nursing job with her father at the hospital. At least she pays her own fees. A thoughtful daughter, like you. It is good of you to write to her, to keep her home spirit high and true. I am afraid I boasted about you a little to Jaeyun’s mother, but what mother would not be proud of her daughter becoming school principal in a year and a half? She did cluck her tongue when I described how far outside of Seoul you will be. And I have to admit that I silently clucked my tongue when I saw the price she paid for a sorry slab of pork. I guess she did not see there was hardly any meat on it. Forgive my pettiness, Lord.
It will be much colder in the mountains. Does your room have heat? Do you have enough winter clothes? Do not send us money. Keep it for moving and buying warm quilts.
Sadly, Kira remains barren. I wish we had the nourishment she needs to improve her chances, but there is less and less available in the market. She continues to work hard, and once I actually saw
Joong carrying her water buckets back from the stream for her. He turned pepper red when he saw me, and Kira covered her head with embarrassment. What could I do but smile? Nowadays, she usually draws water from the new pumps they installed down the street. The water is not pure, and the missionaries say we must boil it for drinking or cooking. Despite hard times or maybe because of them, Joong has pledged to remain with your father. An occasional bit of news from the family in Nah-jin keeps us assured that all is as well as can be. We fear they suffered winter harshly and can only trust God to feed and protect them. Cook is well, if a little more bent in her back from age. Write soon with your Yoju address, and be a strong leader, and kind.
Joong carrying her water buckets back from the stream for her. He turned pepper red when he saw me, and Kira covered her head with embarrassment. What could I do but smile? Nowadays, she usually draws water from the new pumps they installed down the street. The water is not pure, and the missionaries say we must boil it for drinking or cooking. Despite hard times or maybe because of them, Joong has pledged to remain with your father. An occasional bit of news from the family in Nah-jin keeps us assured that all is as well as can be. We fear they suffered winter harshly and can only trust God to feed and protect them. Cook is well, if a little more bent in her back from age. Write soon with your Yoju address, and be a strong leader, and kind.
Mother
Sunday, August 20, 1932
Daughter,
You were right to say that the mail is less reliable from your new post. I received your letter six weeks after you wrote it. At this rate, it will be autumn in the mountains when you receive this. In that case, think of the star maples in the backyard as you read this letter, their colorful brilliance and the cool shade they offer on the last few hot days.
Dongsaeng says thank you for the money. I was not aware you were sending to him. You are a good nuna. He has a hole in his pocket as big as his appetite. The lack of variety and lesser number of side dishes hit your brother the hardest. At least he is not so fat! That is a joke, like the missionaries do. Did he complain this much about food in Seoul?
It is good that you enjoy the mountain beauty and your new job. Never mind about how time-consuming it turned out to be. Hard work will keep you warm when the winter comes. You are clever to take the older girls on walks to show them edible plants. A wonderful practical knowledge that will come in handy if times get any worse, and many say they will worsen before they improve. I laughed when I read your description about nailing the broken window shutters. Now all the girls have learned that a principal’s
job is to fix everything! It reminded me of seeing you riding that bicycle. Dongsaeng takes good care of it still, pedaling to and from school, and sometimes running errands for Father.
job is to fix everything! It reminded me of seeing you riding that bicycle. Dongsaeng takes good care of it still, pedaling to and from school, and sometimes running errands for Father.
Your father is fine, perhaps quieter than usual. He has put aside his brushes and paints. He says there is no one now who can correctly understand his work. He does not seem upset, but I notice that he is reading late into the night, or at least the light in his study burns long, and yet he rises as early as before. His appetite seems smaller also.
The neighbors’ son, Hansu, is home from Pyeongyang and will be married next month. He says they will move to Gangdong, a small village in the northwest mountains, as the missionaries found him a teaching position there. My, how his future wife patiently waited for him! I cannot even remember how many years it was since his betrothal. Do not worry about a wedding present. I will have something by then. Speaking of which, I know you will close your ears and grimace, but you are twenty-two now. What do you think? As promised, you will meet the prospect Father might find for you before anyone agrees to anything, so do not worry about that part. There is someone at church who is eligible, and Hansu mentioned someone. You now have no excuses except, of course, your job. Let me know your thoughts on this. You are nearly an old maid, so think on it, will you? Do not worry, we will find a good Christian with modern thinking.
We are all well. Pray every day for better times and for your father’s good health.
Mother
Sunday, July 16, 1933
Daughter,
That was too generous a gift for Dongsaeng’s graduation. You spoil him! You must not have eaten all month in order to send him that much. Your father has yet to decide what to do about his upper school. My guess is he will remain here where we can keep an eye on him. Expenses and fees notwithstanding, he is coming of age, which brings a host of other concerns, and provincial registration.
Along with joy on his graduation, there is great sadness. Kira lost another baby, not even two months into term. We took her to the hospital this time, although she protested because of the cost. I feared she would lose too much blood without hospital care, and she needed rest and time to mourn, which she would not have at home. She would start up the very next day with toting buckets, and I think that might be one reason she has this trouble. There is sadness in the house, and we pray day and night for her renewed strength.
What you say about prayer worries me. Are you reading the Bible between church days? How can prayer not help the hardships of your poor little school? Prayer won’t feed hungry children, I know, but it will fill their spirit with richness. Perhaps you do not pray with a pure heart and honest feeling. God knows if you try to take the easy road. Clear your mind and approach prayer with openness, willingness, faith and trust. Opening your heart will open your mind to unforeseen possibilities, the richness of faith.
You probably have not heard that Jaeyun is back in Seoul as a surgical nurse. Most of the hospital is Japanese, but she was able to find a position because of her Tokyo education. Her mother reports she makes good money, especially considering the Depression. Jaeyun’s mother implied this was one of the benefits of studying in Japan, but who can say such a thing as fact? Forgive me, Lord, but her chitchat is annoying.
I heard from Imo, who is considering adopting one of her cousin’s sons. She needs to keep the family line going, and I encouraged her. Write to her if you have time. She is better off than most. We have much to be grateful for with Imo.
Cook and Kira, before she took ill, have both been helping with the silkworms. Also on Wednesdays, Cook takes half our garden crops to sell at the market. Can you believe it? You should see her fuss with the display and bargain with customers. She is the toughest saleslady in the market, and I am thankful she is on my side! Who knew about this hidden talent? Conditions here are as you thought. No rice. They blame two seasons of drought, but one can guess otherwise.
Your father is proud of Dongsaeng’s good grades, and I of your
consideration of him. I worry about your Christian spirit and think maybe you need a husband and children in your life. Do not be like those modern girls who refuse to marry.
consideration of him. I worry about your Christian spirit and think maybe you need a husband and children in your life. Do not be like those modern girls who refuse to marry.
Mother
Sunday, February 25, 1934
Daughter,
I fear this letter may not reach you before you depart Yoju, so I will write briefly. Once we learned your post had ended, coincidentally, we heard about a certain bachelor from Pyeongyang. Chang Hansu has returned to Gaeseong under what I can guess is the same situation as yours, since he is looking for work. You will catch up on all that when you come home. More important, he brings news of a good prospect. The gentleman is the second son of a famous minister, someone Hansu met years ago in Seoul—of course you remember that time when he went to the capital. At first, Father was none too keen on this gentleman since his family is common. However, he is the grandson of a district governor, and his father, the first Christian in his province, is the first Presbyterian Korean minister in Pyeongyang. I believe his moral worth can counterbalance his lack of class distinction. I will try to learn more by the time you arrive.
Do not be alarmed to find your father greatly reduced in health and in his attention to these matters. His main concern is rightly toward Dongsaeng’s education and training, and he has little patience for much else. This can be advantageous to you, since he will not be as concerned about the quality of your husband’s name as he might have been ten years ago. You say you refuse to marry, but that is nonsense. You are already old now! Besides, your father’s health would greatly improve were his daughter’s welfare settled once and for all. Think about that and travel quickly to us. I pray for an uneventful and safe journey home.
Mother
A Measure of Faith
SPRING 1934
I CAME HOME FROM THE TRAIN STATION SO LATE IN THE EVENING THAT I could barely see the outlines of our gate. Tired from traveling, I quickly unpacked, breathing in the welcoming scents of home: the dusty wood in my room and Mother’s sweetness on my cheek after an uncharacteristic hug. She had waited to have supper with me and was in the kitchen getting it ready. I went down the dim corridor on the women’s side of the house, the smells of garlic, hot pepper and cooking oil growing stronger with each step. Dongsaeng’s rooms were dark—he was away at boarding school across the valley—but a glow in Father’s studio showed him still awake. A half moon cleared the trees and spread thin light in the yard. I stepped onto the veranda and smiled to see the gentle hollows worn into
the courtyard slate where I had often swept and played. Father’s silhouette behind his screen door shifted in the lamplight, and I heard him call for Joong, who would ready his bedding. I would attend to Father in the morning when Chang Hansu came to visit. I considered this impending visit with unease, suspecting Father’s willingness to have me home would culminate in my being married off as soon as possible. The pleasurable comfort of being home was mixed with childish feelings of caution and rebellion, and I was surprised and disturbed by this reversion.
Other books
Family Secrets by Rona Jaffe
Moon of Aphrodite by Sara Craven
The Iceman Cometh by Eugene O'Neill, Harold Bloom
Billionaire Bad Boy's Fake Bride: BWWM Romance by Mia Caldwell
Unridden: A Studs in Spurs novel by Cat Johnson
The Asutra by Jack Vance
Dark Carbuncle by Kevin J. Anderson, Janis Ian
Looking for Mr. Good Witch by Joyce and Jim Lavene
Tyger by Julian Stockwin
Speechless by Hannah Harrington
