Dec 16

No Greater Gift

Stained glass depiction of Joseph's encounter with God's angel. The Church of St. Joseph, Nazareth, Israel. 2014.

Stained glass depiction of Joseph’s encounter with God’s angel. The Church of St. Joseph, Nazareth, Israel. 2014.

“I’ve got pageant on the brain.” It’s a temporary affliction that I most recently revealed to my friends one evening while we were playing Euchre. The conversation had been swimming around careers and responsibilities, and at some point I squeezed in my earth-shattering news: I’m directing the Christmas pageant at my church and am preoccupied with the planning.

Two years ago, I took on the endeavor for my first time. When I told one of my best friends, she surprised me by laughing. So much for the vote of confidence, I thought. Then, I realized that she grew up with me and she remembered what I was like as an adolescent. Back then, I hated speaking in public, was never in a play, and quit going to church sometime during high school. Upon reflection, her reaction seemed somewhat appropriate, except a lot had happened since our childhood. Little by little, God had prodded me until my faith had grown strong enough that I could be trusted with telling His story.

I knew organizing the pageant would be a huge responsibility. Parents wanted to see their children participate in an appropriate demonstration that would honor Jesus. Children expected to have fun while being part of an important presentation. And God seemed to be nudging me to deliver the pageant in a way that would help others appreciate the unique circumstances surrounding His Son’s birth.

Did I understand the historical event well enough to accurately portray Jesus’s entry into the world? Not entirely. But I have heard it said that if you really want to learn something, then you should teach it to someone else. Since I would be doing both, I felt obligated to look for reliable information. I consulted several different sources, sifted through books and articles, garnered what I needed, and wrote the script for The Story of Jesus’s Birth. The pageant was introduced to my congregation as the “Authentic Christmas” story because I hoped to do away with many common misconceptions and show people a more realistic rendition of the miraculous event that took place over 2000 years ago.

I didn’t want to rewrite history, but I found many tidbits that warranted my tweaking of the traditional Christmas pageant. Here are some of the things I found interesting and the ideas that took shape.

Jesus fulfilled more than three hundred prophecies, an astounding number considering they were written over four hundred years before He was born. His birth, life, and sacrificial death were foretold well before he walked the earth. His role as savior was long expected.

Stone feeding trough. Photograph taken by Kelly Bixby in Megiddo, Israel. 2014.

Stone feeding trough. Photograph taken by Kelly Bixby in Megiddo, Israel. 2014.

Joseph’s arrival back in his hometown of Bethlehem for the census may have been similar to our modern day experiences of going home for a holiday. Sometimes we have to sleep on the couch because Auntie Em is in the spare bedroom. It doesn’t mean we can’t stay; we just get whatever space is still left. The familiar misconception of a callous innkeeper may have evolved from nothing more than a tired and grumpy cousin who didn’t get to sleep in his own bed one special night. The place offered to Mary and Joseph could have been the only room of his house that wasn’t already overflowing with relatives and other guests. It would have been the lower portion of the resident’s home (a multi-level cave) where valued animals were routinely brought inside at night. There they were safely protected from loss and theft while the owners slept in an upper room. No one really knows if any animals were present and lying near the baby Jesus on the night of His arrival, but there is evidence that Jesus’s bed was a stone feeding trough, not a wooden manger, built into the lower room.

Under normal circumstances in ancient Israel, Joseph wouldn’t have been in the room when Mary gave birth. He would have remained close by and quick to enter after Jesus was cleaned and swaddled.

Below the ornamentation and decorative tapestries is the ground of a cave presumed to be the birthplace of Jesus. The Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem, Israel. 2014.

Below the ornamentation and decorative tapestries is the ground of a cave presumed to be the birthplace of Jesus. The Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem, Israel. 2014.

There isn’t any biblical mention of angels being present in the stable when Jesus was born (despite artistic renderings and popular crèches), but they are part of the story. First, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary to tell her she would conceive the Son of God and that her old and barren relative, Elizabeth, was also pregnant (with John the Baptist). Then, an angel, presumed to be Gabriel, appeared in a dream to Joseph to explain that Mary’s conception was miraculous. God’s messenger instructed Joseph to name the expected baby Jesus. On the night Jesus was born, a single angel–once again presumed to be Gabriel– appeared to shepherds to announce Jesus’s birth and encourage them to go to Bethlehem and see the baby. A host of angels joined Gabriel and the shepherds, praised God, and proclaimed peace to those who please God. Joseph was visited at least two more times by angels giving warning or instructions that led to Jesus’s safety.(NIV)

Jesus was officially given His name during the time of circumcision, when He was eight days old.(NIV)

When Jesus was no younger than forty days old, He was taken to the temple to be presented to the Lord and dedicated into serving Him. During the ceremony, Jesus created quite a stir when two faithful servants recognized the infant as the Messiah (Christ). Simeon prophesied Jesus’s suffering and death, and old Anna, a prophetess, spread the news of the infant Messiah’s arrival to those looking forward to redemption.(NIV)

Wise men, commonly referred to as Magi, came to worship Jesus, but not on the night of His birth. Their visit may have taken place as long as two years afterwards. So in our pageant, the unnamed Magi from the east humbly bowed before a toddler Jesus as He stood beside his mother in their home, not a stable. The visitors were most likely not kings, but they may have been astrologers or advisors to kings. There was more than one Magi, but the Bible doesn’t specify the exact number. Tradition, whether right or wrong, sets the number at three.

Jesus was taken to safety in Egypt, thus spared from paranoid King Herod’s orders to massacre all the boys in Bethlehem who were two years old and younger. This tragedy is pretty well known, but it is often left out of Christmas pageants. One reason is that this tale is gruesome and unsettling. Even I glossed over sharing this part of history because the pageant was ending and I wanted a softer transition into a joyous closing hymn. I would have liked to have explained that more than baby boys would have been killed. In their fury, it’s presumed that Herod’s army didn’t take time to figure out which babies were boys and which were girls; and if parents tried to protect their children, they may have been killed too.

Scene from “The Story of Jesus’s Birth.” Photograph taken by Lynn Rife. 16 Dec. 2012

Scene from “The Story of Jesus’s Birth.” Photograph taken by Lynn Rife. 16 Dec. 2012

Overall, our pageant looked fairly traditional. Youth portrayed every part. They became fluffy sheep, brilliant angels, and humble shepherds. As wise men, they looked like kings, complete with two-legged camels trailing behind. The highlight was still the scene with a costumed donkey that came to rest next to Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. Did anyone notice the non-traditional yet more realistic stone manger? Was anyone surprised to learn about Simeon and Anna? Or that Jesus was at least two years old when the Magi bowed before Him? I had achieved my goal of introducing lesser known details into our rendition of the Christmas story. I hoped that many were inspired to wonder what that night was really like.

The pageant required long hours of planning and the support of a small army of family and friends. Together, we survived the crazy, energetic practices and embraced impromptus by our young actors. There were tears (mine) during group prayer and joy as I watched God’s precious children welcome and worship baby Jesus. The parents smiled. The children beamed. I was amazed by it all and felt like the one who had the most fun.

“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” –Jesus

SOURCES:

Bart D. Ehrman, “The Myths of Jesus,” Newsweek 17 Dec. 2012: 26-28.

Bert Gary, “Are Kids’ Christmas Plays Biblical?” downloaded Nov. 2012 <http://bertgary.blogspot.com/2009/01/are-kids-christmas-plays-biblical.html>.

Daniel B. Wallace, “The Birth of Jesus Christ,” Bible.org downloaded 7 Nov. 2012 <https://bible.org/article/birth-jesus-christ>.

The NIV Study Bible, ed. Kenneth Barker (Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House, 1995) 1436-1439, 1533-1538.

 

Dec 10

A Talisman, a Tool

What does a tarot deck, an athame, a grimoire, silver and a cross have in common? I’m sure you can guess. They all are tools used in the paranormal trade that are staples in any number of different manuscripts. But how do your characters use them, and how can you as a writer find authentic information that will read true within your characters? Some tools you’ve probably read or heard about come from perceived truths based on lore passed down from generation to generation. Others stem traditionally from religious practices, be it Christianity or Paganism.

I am Christian, not Catholic, but the first symbol of Christianity besides Jesus and the cross that comes to mind is the rosary, a string of beads used specifically for prayer and meditation. It’s an important part in the daily lives of a Catholic. But what about those that are not practicing Catholics? Did you ever wonder why someone dangles a rosary from a rearview mirror of his or her car? Or why they might place a rosary on a mantel next to a picture of a deceased loved one. At some level that persons mind has a powerful connection to the rosary. It gives him or her some assurance that God is with them. It’s a visible reminder of something greater than they are, seated deeply in their faith.

Near the opposite end of the spectrum is Paganism, not to be confused with an Atheist who doesn’t believe in God. Definition no. 2 on Dictionary.com lists a pagan as a person that is not Christian, Jewish or Muslim. The definition of a pagan I like most is, “a follower of any various contemporary religions that are based on the worship of nature or the Earth; a neopagan.” Do they have something similar to the rosary?

What am I alluding to here exactly? Consider the creation of a talisman. A talisman, an object with special meaning for its owner, used by a witch or Wiccan, is no different from a Catholic that clings to their rosary. I know some might think differently, but in both cases, each person believes the items hold power based on their faith, so it’s important to understand how it holds that power for the character you are building.

Even if you’re not developing a witch or a Catholic, what if the girl next door carries a worry-stone in her pocket because her mother said it would lesson her anxiety. Would a blue-eyed, glass broche pinned to a baby’s onesie help ward off evil? Could the mother of the baby become obsessed in her quest to hide her baby from evil, the broche being the catalyst? Would she do something drastic making future events spin out of control?

Wrapped tiger iron pendant by WjK DESiGNS

Wrapped tiger iron pendant by WjK DESiGNS

A very mundane character could be similar in my own beliefs. I occasionally wear stones that have meaning for me. It’s not because I believe in witchcraft, it’s because when I wear a stone it has a purpose–besides looking nice—placing a specific intent in my mind as to where I should focus my creativity or thoughts. It acts as a reminder. The photo on the right shows a tiger-iron stone I purchased from Earth Lore in Plymouth, MI, that I made into a necklace. Defined by the expertise of the owners of Earth Lore the stone brings the bearer confidence, strength, and insight of the tiger-eye with the grounding energy of jasper and hematite, or it can boost creativity.

The use of a talisman, a tarot card or rosary gives the writer a different avenue, draping their characters in thick layers of back-story. They add elements that are significant to the characters helping move them toward his or her goal, enriching your story.

Even looking back on the way I used the Hermit tarot card in my last post, the paranormal tool used, helped flush out a purpose or path to get around writers block for character development. Still that same use, drawing a tarot card, could be something a witch, a psychic, a telepath, uses to gain knowledge for his or her goals.

Developing a ghost story where the protagonist is hunting ghosts might add a very long list of technical and scientific tools, but the key word is scientific not supernatural. But what if your character were sensitive to ghosts, what tools introduced could press the tension up in the story?

In this case, might the tool be his or her body or consciousness? Could it be the ghost becomes the tool in your manuscript? The main character is a medium in this case, channeling the spirit of the ghost. On the other hand, the ghost could be malevolent, similar to a poltergeist or one that possesses, controlling your character. Maybe he or she becomes your antagonist instead and the ghost becomes his tool to terrorize because of a symbiotic relationship. The outside source or tool, the ghost, can give you a vast number of options for developing a characters mannerisms, flaws, and idiosyncrasies.

Another great example of a tool in a paranormal world (this one is fantasy) is the ring in Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. It’s one of the most iconic tools in a fictional world. Many scholars could go on and on about the symbolism of the one ring, fashioned for the most evil being in Middle-Earth, or a king, or a Hobbit, and let’s not forget Gollum. If you look at all of these characters, the ring did something different for each of them, driven by Tolkien’s imagination and words.

It’s fascinating to me, the idea of a talisman. Look to your own lives, your surroundings. What’s on your desk, your nightstand? Did you have a box filled with little things you’ve collected over the years, each having a memory attached to it? We all have them in some form or another, a necklace, a coin, a stone. Maybe we don’t know why we carry them, but the need is within us, even if it’s on a subconscious level.

If I give a character a particular item, how does it move them through a story, does it corrupt, does it help, and does it give him or her power? Does an enemy want it for his own, and what happens to your hero or heroine then? So many things can cascade into something else, when you give a character a tool. But be careful. If you see it throughout a story, it has to have meaning, a past, a present, a purpose. All you and I have to do is choose what that purpose is.

Happy Writing!

Dec 07

Let Your Passion Fly Free

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Maya Angelou

“Don’t die with your music still inside. Listen to your intuitive inner voice and find what passion stirs your soul.” Wayne Dyer

You’ve always wanted to write the “next best seller,” yet you haven’t completed one manuscript. I know, I know. You’ve been busy with school, work, and family which has left little time to pursue what your family considers your “hobby.” If you still want to write the story that keeps disturbing your sleep, then it’s your passion, not your hobby. But when you sit at your computer, you freeze. Is it writer’s block or are you suffering from a fear of failure? Are you afraid of criticism or do you lack the self-confidence it takes to become a published writer?

Try getting past your fear of putting your words on paper with some of the following techniques that worked for me.

Talk to an older relative or neighbor about her childhood memories. Don’t concern yourself about what you’ll do with the information during the conversation. Just ask prepared questions, but listen carefully to the responses and to the way that person answers. This may lead to more questions. Take notes and ask permission to utilize a recorder prior to the interview. If at first the person is reluctant to talk, get her to relax by talking about the present. Maybe a conversational trigger will lead her to reveal more about her entry into this country, her life on a farm, or what it was like during the war. A memoir, mystery, or love story could be enhanced by some of the details you hear.

While caring for my elderly, sick father, I heard him talk about his mother’s compassion toward others during the depression. Delighted to hear his coherent voice, I coaxed him into telling me more. The stories he told me became a short memoir I wrote for his benefit. He enjoyed the story and encouraged me to write more. “My Grandmother, Little Mama” was published in On the Shores of Detroit: History through Prose and Poetry which became a component of the 2002 Midwest Poets & Writers Conference.

Enter writing contests. WritersWeekly.com has a quarterly 24-Hour Short Story Contest with an entry fee of only $5. At noon on a predetermined Saturday, contestants are given a few sentences that must be used in their story and told the maximum word count allowed. The sentences and word count vary from contest to contest. The story must be completed by noon the following day. On a whim, I entered the contest several times. I didn’t win the WritersWeekly contests. However, I tweaked one of the stories and entered it in other contests. That story won a first place cash prize in one contest and was published as an honorable mention in another one.

The National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) challenges writers to write 50,000 words during the thirty days of November. That’s a minimum of 1,667 words a day which should help you get into the habit of writing regularly. I’ve tried this twice, once successfully. I’m now working on the results of my second NaNoWriMo manuscript.

The Writer’s Digest has numerous contests several times a year as well as mini contests in their magazine. Writing prompts or story starters may help you write on a regular basis. Keep a notebook handy to jot down any ideas that come to mind. Starting small may work for you. When you’re ready for a bigger project, write one chapter at a time until you’ve finally written the story that has haunted you for some time. Now put away your fears and let your passion fly free. We’re waiting to read your story.

Dec 03

Joe’s Place

I’m sometimes asked what do I most enjoy about visiting bookstores. My first thought is the excitement of possibly finding a book that I’ve been searching for or a book that I’d not realized that I was searching for. Usually it’s one signed by the author or an older paperback that can only be found in an independent bookstore. Yet, I’ve developed a deeper joy in the discovery of bookstores that have personality. That is to say that when walking into a store, I feel welcomed and invited to learn its story–like making a new friend. Not all bookstores have a character that extends beyond the anonymous store. In fact, some stores want customers to feel like each of their stores are the same, with item location in the same place regardless of where you visit, or menu you choose from. Then there are the independent bookstores, as is true with other businesses, that strive to bring to life their personality, as unique and distinct as individuals. When you find those places like The Java Place and Joe’s Place, you choose to return to them every chance you can as with old friends.

Joe’s Place by John McCarthy

2014-10-15 16.37.31

The storefront indicates that Joe’s Place sells books and wine, which opens lots of questions as to what I would find. Is it an antiquarian store? Perhaps it’s a wine seller with books on the side? A moment’s concerning thought arose: Did I just drive almost an hour to Greenville SC for a bookstore that was actually a Party Store? At this point, I just had to know.

2014-10-15 16.50.06

Crossing the threshold, a bar counter and tables were center of the room. Wine bottles stacked alongside, and a sign displayed prices for wine and…coffee drinks? Classical music soared through the room. Diamond shaped shelves constructed for wine bottles were stuffed with books. It was then that I exhaled. There were many shelves of books in the main area, and the corner room near the back. All genres are present for the voracious reader, the teen, the parent looking for something to occupy their young child, and those who are interested in all things non-fiction. But that’s not all. There is a glass cabinet, once the home for expensive bottles of wine, that houses antiquarian volumes for the selective book collector. There is truely something for everyone’s book interest.

2014-10-15 16.50.03The proprietor sat behind a register counter that was typical of book sellers I’ve found everywhere along my travels. The owners are a husband and wife team who shared a dream of establishing a bookstore to serve the local patrons. Prior to the store, they traveled far to visit their favorite bookstores. Interestingly, Joe’s Place is not named after either of the couple, but is named in honor of a brother. The reason for this was not shared. There was a sense of reverence in the silence that followed sharing the origin of the store’s name.

 

Joe’s Place offers an ambiance that is part bookstore, part cafe, and part wine tasting soiree. It is a place, as the proprietor said, “Where you can have a coffee or glass of wine while checking out books to decide on purchasing.” The downtown area where the store is located feels like a mix of an upscale college community and yuppy climate that welcomes tourists to walk the streets and visit the eclectic shops. Joe’s Place is a welcoming stop for locals and visitors to catch their breath, have a drink, and check out a good book to start and purchase for their journey.

 

Joe’s Place

640 S Main St, Ste 101 B, Greenville, SC 29601

http://www.yelp.com/biz/joes-place-greenville

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Joes-Place/374123676056714

2014-10-15 16.41.10 2014-10-15 16.43.03

 

Dec 01

Amazing Lady, Jennifer

I went down to the basement through a narrow spiral staircase from the kitchen. The tiny kitchen has a small cooking stove and a large rice cooker on the counter.

Jennifer has set up her beauty parlor in the basement and takes care of customers at any time, early morning and late evenings. Customers are mostly family members: husbands, wives and children.

In the basement there are three almost brand new red toolboxes with several shallow drawers and strong and sturdy wheels attached to the bottom. The unhealthy plants with dry brown leaves from outdoors for winter are placed on top of the toolboxes. An old revolving chair is in front of the only mirror and one armchair is attached to a large hair dryer. There is an old sofa that is covered with a slipcover for customers who are waiting their turn. An old TV is on the shelf for watching Korean soap operas.

The thing I like most in the basement is a radiant heater from Costco that warmed up my leg while I sat on the chair in front of the small mirror. One other thing was a calendar from Jennifer’s Korean Catholic church with the date of the lunar calendar hung near the mirror. I need to know two days in the lunar calendar per year: My mother-in-law’s birthday and Korean Thanksgiving which is on August 15 in the lunar calendar and around the end of September in the solar calendar.

When I turned on the basement light, Jennifer came down immediately after me and turned on the heater. I sat on the chair shivering and she put a towel and gown around my neck and she started to touch my hair.

“Your hair grows fast. It is long. That means your hair is quite healthy,” Jennifer commented.

“I was busy and I just kept it in a pony tail. It looks ugly, but…” I did not finish my sentence and continued, “I needed a perm to last for three or four months at least, maybe a tight curl helps it to last longer?”

“Let’s see.” Jennifer continuously touched my hair with her warm fingers.

Before Jennifer finished her sentence we heard loud noises from upstairs and something hit the floor. BANG!! BANG!! It was like a grenade hit the floor and would make a hole in the basement ceiling.

Jennifer dropped her brush on the floor and ran upstairs. Again the loud voices spread throughout the house as loud as thunder. A few minutes later the storm calmed down and the kitchen door was opened and closed with a bang. Somebody ran out into the street.

She felt that she was caught in the middle between two giant forces and neither was willing to give an inch (like a small ship at sea caught between two gigantic humpback whales). But she was all right for handling this awkward situation. She came downstairs holding her breath and started to curl my hair. The quiet moment sprawled through the basement.

“Last night our house was so cold I thought that I would freeze to death. (It was not true). Kwang put the thermostat down to 65 F.” I was just making conversation to break the silence.

Maybe Jennifer did not hear what I said. Her hands were trembling a little bit, but she was able to settle her emotions.

Jennifer has taken care of my hair for more than twenty years now, but we have never talked about our personal lives. I did not even tell her about my business and I just told her all the time how busy I was with four children and a heavy workload. In exchange, she told me the stories of Korean soap operas that she watched.

I wished that I could avoid this uncomfortable moment and just say goodbye to her and leave but the perm takes about two hours. There was no way I could leave or comfort her.

Finally Jennifer thawed the chilly moment and started her amazing story. “Bob and I have two sons and one is a business manager of a small company and our second is institutionalized and just came home for the weekend.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes and then she continued that whenever her second son, Harry, came home there were frequent quarrels between father and son. Everybody had bruises on their faces and bodies. “When Harry is in the institution our home is much quieter than before. Since Bob is acting as a child, he starts the quarrels and not his son.”

I lost the words. I just thought about what a unique life she has. Then she went on. In December 1951 during the Korean War, her hometown was in Kangwon Province, which was in the South Korean territory before 1953. Her first husband died on the battlefield as a sergeant. She left home with a seven month old son and a three-year-old daughter with one thick blanket. Her son was on her back and the blanket and everything else was on her head. She walked with her three-year-old daughter for several miles to the train station where all the townspeople would leave for the south to avoid the war zone. Many, many times her three year old daughter lay down on the snow, cried and did not want to walk any more. Everybody had to leave the town because the North Korean and the Chinese armies flooded toward the town.

It was dark when she finally got to the train station where the refugees were. She was one of the last people to evacuate the town. All the people were in cargo trains and there was not even one inch of space left. People sat on other people’s laps. There was no room for them to stretch out their legs. This was the only transportation to leave the town.

Her hands were getting warmer and she was getting faster with curling my hair and her mind seemed to have regained control and she continued, “For three days we were in a cargo train without any food and could not even go out for a pit stop. When people needed it, they passed around a can for an emergency. For three days we did not eat anything and nothing came out as discharge. I sat on the lap of a middle aged gentleman and I used the can on his lap.”

Another silent moment passed and my curiosity increased as to how she met Bob.

After three days the train stopped at its final destination of Daegu, that is a city in the middle of South Korea, which is now the second largest city in Korea. The refugee camps were full of people from North Korea and they were setting up another one but it was not ready. About one hundred to two hundred people did not have a place to spend a couple of nights until the camp was up.

Jennifer walked on for several miles with two children looking for a place to stay. After several rejections, she found a house with a barn. Jennifer asked the landowner if she could stay a couple of nights here until she could go to the camp. The owner was a very kind and warm-hearted person and explained her reasoning. “How can I let you sleep in the barn while we are inside the house?”

“If you let me stay here, it will be a great place since I have a thick blanket and we can be warm staying here,” Jennifer replied.

About a week later Jennifer and the two children finally went into the refugee camp. At that time there were several refugee camps around the town. The government provided a meal once a day with rice balls and bean sprout soup.

Jennifer continues, “After I settled down in the refugee camp I began to be concerned with the whereabouts of my family (parents and siblings). They were evacuated at a different time from North Korea and I did not know their location.” A couple of months later Jennifer got news that her parents were in a different refugee camp.

Finally the family was reunited but no jobs were available and getting food was very difficult. Her daughter was crying from hunger and her son was trying to suck Jennifer’s milk from an empty breast. Because of malnutrition her son started to walk at the age of two and Jennifer did not have a period for three years.

Through the assistance of the Catholic Church, Jennifer collected a mixture of leftover food. It was waste food from individual dishes from the U.S. army. It was more nutritious than just bean sprout soup or other Korean food at that time. With these connections Jennifer started to wash clothes for the G.I.s. First one and two, then later she operated a laundromat for about two hundred G.I.s with the assistance of several employees.

“Business was booming and it seemed to rake in money from the ground and the laundromat space was full of G.I. clothes. One day one soldier’s clothes were in our laundromat for several weeks without a checkout. I asked his friend the reason. He said it was Bob who was new to this division and because his paperwork was not properly done on time, the payment of his salary was delayed so he could not get his clothes back.”

Jennifer asked his friend to take his clothes and pay for it later. Jennifer’s intention was that she needed the space, but Bob thought differently about Jennifer. Bob paid back with a letter saying that he wanted to marry her.

Jennifer didn’t even blink her eyes at his proposal. She totally ignored him. She had many reasons. She already had two children from a previous marriage and Korean tradition did not allow for mixed race marriage at that time, especially marriage to a G.I. It means one class lower than our traditional social system. Koreans can no longer be proud of their pure blood because of so many mixed racial marriages.

Bob came to the Laundromat every day and sent her letters almost daily. Then he moved to another location and that division moved out of the town and a military police (MP) division came to that location. She operated the laundromat for a couple more years to serve the MPs and then she closed it.

Years passed, and Jennifer had a visitor from her church. Father Paul came. At that time Jennifer was with her father. Father Paul was hesitant to break the silence and finally he asked Jennifer’s father to leave the room in order to talk with Jennifer privately. After her father left the room Father Paul took out a ragged letter from his inside pocket. It was a letter from Bob. Since Jennifer had closed the Laundromat, Bob did not know her address, so he sent the letter to the main office of the Catholic Church and it was forwarded and finally wound up with Father Paul. Father Paul knew that Jennifer would not marry an American G.I., breaking Korean tradition. Not only this, Jennifer already had two children of her own. Her family and church members decided to at least meet Bob and then make the decision but this meeting did not mean “YES”.

It was nine years since the first time Jennifer had seen Bob at the laundromat. Bob flew in the first time with a ring. Nothing happened. The second time nothing happened and the third time he brought another ring.

Jennifer’s family and the priest thought he was a very decent man and he had fallen in love deeply with Jennifer. He would make Jennifer happy for a long time. They married in the Catholic Church.

As soon as Jennifer married Bob she began to recognize that Bob was not normal. He was different from what she first thought.

“Jennifer, how can you stay with him?” I interrupted her. I could not hear her story any more without frustration.

“This year is our 45th anniversary.”

I lost words. What an amazing woman. She has carried this load of frustration and uncertainty of Bob’s abnormal character for forty-five years. And I was full of sorrow for her. The Catholic principle made her stay with him without divorcing him. This was only my thought. But it’s possible that they might have many happy moments together.

“Bob is now in a nursing home fighting for his life.” Jennifer could not finish her sentence; tears were running down her cheeks.