The calligrapher's daughter_ a novel - Eugenia Kim [139]
I taught twenty pupils in the third and fourth grades, and supervised another teacher who had thirty-five children in the first and second grades. Another part of my job was to assist the minister of the church in that community who served seventeen different parishes. He seldom stayed in one parish but traveled around to take care of many scattered churches. When the minister was not in town, the elders and I alternated on the pulpit, and I preached once a month. Fortunately, there were no funerals during the absence of the minister! After one of my sermons, an elderly woman said, “Principal Cho, your sermon was good, but how come you did not mention Jesus Christ?” I told her I would keep it in mind, and the next time she was apparently satisfied. So you see, at one time I practiced my faith without full sincerity.
For the summer vacation I thought to venture home by the river route, which would save me a day’s travel. At that time of year, loads of timber are floated down the rapids. A group of farmers and timbermen allowed me to ride in one of seven boats carrying soybeans down to Manpo where the rapids end. None of us realized that recent rains had made the water unusually wild. For a time we were lined up with the logs rushing in the same direction as the current, but at a narrow section of the river the logs went every which way and rammed the boats. The men jumped onto the logs, and with their lifetime of experience balancing on spinning timbers, all of them managed to reach the shore. I knew I could not walk on the logs and clung to the boat, which nearly capsized several times. Surprising everyone, for I’d been given up for lost, my boat was pulled to shore in Manpo. The other six boats had been crushed.
At the end of that summer I returned to open the fall session. At Jasang there was a car but no driver available for the last leg of the journey. I waited many hours, and finally when a group of five other passengers arrived, one of them claimed to be the driver, although we learned later that he was not. We gladly climbed aboard and began the ascent. At one of the sharp turns, the inexperienced driver hit a bank and the car stalled, slipped back and fell over the edge. It rolled and I was tossed from the window. It rolled again and crashed farther down. I received only a bruised elbow and knee, some big bumps and a torn jacket. The driver and two men were killed. The women who sat near the front suffered serious injuries, and I learned later that they both had died.
You will recall that my two younger brothers perished from TB. My life had been spared twice. Furthermore, each of these accidents occurred exactly on the one-year anniversary of my brothers’ deaths. There had to be a very particular reason for this, and as I began to investigate, all the answers were larger than what I could fathom. So I came to believe in God’s plan: first, because there was no other answer; now, because of His love. I decided to devote my life to the cause of the church. When I resumed my post as principal, I began reading the Bible, which I’d neglected for many years. I wrote to ask my father his advice on how best to understand this book and its intent, which led me to my study today. I pass his wisdom along to you, praying that you will take it to heart and find your own way. The best way to understand the Bible is simply to read it, and not rely on someone else’s interpretation, but to read interlocking interpretations and discover them by yourself. He suggested starting with Psalms, Isaac and Matthew.
As I mentioned earlier, the way to God is as unique as our human individuality. I’m afraid God had to knock rather hard before I let Him enter. Read as you will, knowing the words themselves and then the numerous translations over the centuries sometimes had political origins and motivations. I hope my story did not bore you. I share it with you so you will know that I understand something