Twice a week, Jim takes the car to work; today just so happened to be his day to drive and so I was left without a car. I’ve been dreading the “no car” day. The main reason is, since we moved into our place the walk to school is about ten minutes longer and it’s just too cold for Maggie. I usually drive (the hill is not nearly as steep in the car) and I try to look at the bright side and figure I will be getting exercise that otherwise won’t happen. So, I bundle everyone up, sling Maggie on my back in a carrier and head out. It is so blasted cold out there! Whoa! Chicago, look out. It is 15 F and Margaret starts crying, James starts crying. I rummage around in my pockets for some leftover money and look for a cab going my direction. No luck. We keep walking. They keep crying. People stare. Finally we get to the “hill” and there are a bunch of cabs coming down. I open the door and the cab driver shakes his head, “No”. I think, “No? You’re a cab. You can’t be partial” (He didn’t want to go back up the hill and wait in the long line of cars. It wasn’t worth his money). The car behind the cab motions to me that he will help. It’s not a cab, but I open the door and a middle-aged Korean man waves me on. I open the back door. Tell the three girls to get in, hand the money to Gracie and tell her to call me when she gets to the school knowing full well that she has no idea what our phone number is; I barely know what our phone number is. I slam the door. Maggie and James are still crying, and I stand there shocked at what I have done: put my kids in the car of a strange middle-aged foreign man and hope that he’s good and honest. I start to cry. Maggie is screaming now. I run home holding James hand.Yes, the man was good and honest. Ask the girls for their side of the story; it’s actually endearing and complimentary to the Korean people- or at least that Korean man who helped us out.
10 comments:
Kim, I am shocked that you put your kiddos in a strange mans car. You must have been so stressed out. Thank goodness the girls got to school ok. I hate those days with out a car. I honestly feel like I am going to go insane. Thanks for the comments on my blog. I wish we could talk. call when you can!! Love ya, Em
And I whined about having to drive the truck today! Will winter never end? It has been cold here too, and snows everyday. I think I live in Alaska. Thank goodness for good people. I'm waiting to hear what the girls have to say about their ride to school. Maybe you can better know how I felt the day I couldn't get to gymnasatics to pick you up. Mom's do carry a lot of weight around--in the form of anxiety, stress, guilt, hysteria, etc. etc. etc. Are we ever going to be able to talk to you?
Are you kidding me? Thank goodness for that good man. I want to hear what the girls have to say about the fiasco. It's been so cold here (you know those miserable midwest winters much too well) so I can only imagine how desperate you were. I totally feel like the motorcycle. I'm dying to talk to you. Love ya
Loved the motorcycle! Is that all the stress moms carry around? Its amazing how we can just continue to pile it on, higher and higher.
Aren't you glad we have different mountains than the pioneers who wandered through the snow? I always say I would have been one of the first ones dead. I hate the cold. And now Feb is almost here...drat.
Kim: Are you going to have the girls post their version. I LOVED the motorcycle, too. Do you think they put some kids on their as well? I gave Shannon your blogsite so she could read all about your adventure. Nathan and I laughed and laughed about "Neutral." Do you think it would work in Chicago?
I just have to say, if anyone deserves to feel like that motorcycle it's you!!
Hey, you should get a moped with a seat for those days without the car. How many kids do you think you could get on one? You would look like that motorcycle. Ha! I love the mental picture.
Kim- That sounds soooo unlike you. I can't believe it. What were you thinking? You poor thing. I'm glad it worked out. I really want to hear the kids version. Love ya, Nat
O.K. so here's my side of the story. Mom puts us in a car, and tells me to call her. As she closes the door, I both say and think different things at the same time. "I don't know the number!"I shouted, hoping she heard me. I thought,"Will I ever see them again?" I looked at them, thinking that I didn't want this to be the last thing I see of my family.Another question went through my mind "Is he really going to do this?" A few agonising seconds, hoping that maybe someone will find us before He takes us to the airport and takes us away to wherever. Then he turns his car around. "Yes," I tell myself, "He is going to do this." I know that the top of the mountain is a dead end, so if he turns around he will have to do this. He tell us that he sees us every day. He has one child living in America, and two here in Korea. He not only drops us off, but drives us up to the top floor. That means it will not only be a shorter walk for us from the top floor to the school, but a longer line for him to go down the hill.I offer him the 5,000 won, but he does not take it.
As we walk, Mary and I talk of our shared feelings of gratitude.
Mom of course calls the class room, and tells me how much she cried. I am very gratful and I know that even if he was not Christan, there are wonderful people out there who do humble Christ-like actions like this everyday.
Kim, that is awesome. You've come so far. I am really proud of you. You gotta lot of guts. Even I would not have done that, but this week in Seminary I've been teaching about trusting God. We are doing Job and despite the horror around him, including his three friends accusations of sin as the cause of his calamities, he remained faithful. I so appreciate your faithfulness. We miss you very much.
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