By Park Ho Ryong
Potentiality '98, Daejin University, English Department, pp. 109-110, 1998.
I remember that it was about 12 years ago, when I was a middle school student.
Then I was a sentimental and emotional boy. I liked animals, insects, fish,
birds and so on, so I was raising puppies and fish then. I watched them
and played with them everyday. It was very interesting, and I was happy.
One day, I met some special friends accidentally. It was an impressive
experience for me.
When I went to a traditional market with my mother to buy some food and
clothes for Chusok, there were a lot of people who had a similar purpose
as us. It was so loud and confusing. I said, "Mom, I'm so bored and tired.
Let's go home now and take a rest."
But my mother laughed and said, "I didn't finish my work. Wait a minute
or you can't get your new clothes for Chusok. You see?"
Though I was tired I wanted to have new clothes, so I decided to stay with
her. At that time, I heard birds' chirping and asked, "What is that, Mom?"
"They are chicks."
They were so cute, so I said to my mom directly, "I want to have them,
Mom."
"Maybe . . . but not now." She didn't buy them for me then.
Two weeks later, I received four chicks as friends. My mother bought them
for me as a gift. I jumped with gladness. I made every effort to raise
them earnestly. I said hello to them every morning and said good-bye every
late evening. Frequently, I checked their health. And I caught worms, spiders,
flies, dragon-flies, etc. in the morning before going to school, and gave
them rice and cooked noodles when there was no food. Moreover, I gave them
names--Korean names--but I can't remember what they were now.
I remember the day I had a remarkable experience with them. At night, one
of the chicks left home, so my brother and I tried to find it for two hours,
but we failed. I thought it betrayed me. But the next morning, I heard
the chick's voice calling to us. I was surprised and happy to see him again.
But this was only the beginning of my misery. That day, I visited my aunt's
house to deliver food. On my way home from there, I could smell a rather
strange smell and feel something odd. When I got home, I found out the
reason. My uncle was killing all of my friends, that could not fly, for
food, and when he saw me he smiled at me. I was so sad and cried to know
about their death, so I could not eat for a few days. After the experience,
I thought about death seriously.
I have buried my friends in my mind; however, I cannot forget that time.
It was a murder and misery to a young boy. Then I hated my uncle who killed
my chicks and my mother who didn't tell me about their death. But it was
the thought of an emotional young boy. Now I think all that live on earth
have their typical ways to finish their own lives. But it was difficult
for a kid to accept the fact. In the end, I could admit their fatality,
and bade farewell to them. My four pitiful friends taught me about many
things--interests, happiness, and death. It is important to me until now.