(One of requirements of TH 501-01, Drew Theological School on September 15, 1982.)

About two weeks before my first birthday (July 7, 1950), the Korean War broke. The infant, who was the second son and the third child in his family, was crying and crying on the back of his mother who was trying to escape from the hot zone of active war under the communist military operation in the capital city, Seoul, and push down to South in Korea. Furthermore, my father had to leave my mom, brother(13), sister(11), and a baby boy(11 months old), because he was conscripted by the Korean Army. Therefore, I had to be satisfied with eating the small piece of Indian-millet-bread on the edge of a road for my first birthday party. His mom exchanged her golden wedding ring with. The baby ate it with frozen hand on the back of his mother.

So far, the Korean war has not ended. Time has flown on the parallel lines of 155 miles D.M.Z. between North and South as the armistice conference continues. The war plundered the life, history and love from the land. After the war, my family had, two new members; my sister is now 28 years old and the other is my brother who is 25 years old. My older brother, who is 45 years old now and a medical doctor in Connecticut, made possible for my whole family’s immigration to the States. My mother is 67 years old and my father is 65 years old.

After the Korean War, my mother who had been a shamanist for a long time, converted to a Christian.