Autumn #4

Song of Songs 2:10 says,

“My beloved spoke and said to me, Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me.”

More than a mere romantic confession, it is a pursuit by a love far different from any human affection—a divine, unconditional commitment that finds Gaeul in her darkest moment. My hope is that this same relentless love reaches out and touches every reader through her journey.

Song of Songs 2:10 says,

“My beloved spoke and said to me, Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me.”

More than a mere romantic confession, it is a pursuit by a love far different from any human affection—a divine, unconditional commitment that finds Gaeul in her darkest moment. My hope is that this same relentless love reaches out and touches every reader through her journey.

Autumn 4, 2024

CHAPTER 3/3

It is raining. As though the sky has finally burst into tears, sheets of rain have been pouring down without pause since the afternoon. There is a saying that snow and rain fall from the sky and, rather than returning to the sky, come down to the earth to make new shoots grow. The promises that come from God are said to work in the same way; they do not return to Him but fall upon the earth and bring those things to pass. One wonders, then, what promises there might be. How many countless promises are falling from the sky right now, becoming rain, dropping down to the earth?

Several days had passed since Yeon-ui had come and gone, and in that time Gaeul's body had recovered considerably. Lying in the hospital room with nothing to do, staring at the ceiling, Gaeul was fighting hard against boredom. She hauled her heavy body upright and went to the window to watch the people passing on the street below. Beneath the relentless curtain of rain, some shielded themselves with bags, with umbrellas, or by ducking under eaves; but among them, one person spread both arms wide as though he had been waiting for exactly this rain, welcoming it into his body. Hair plastered flat, the round curve of their skull laid bare, a thin shirt gone see-through; and yet, indifferent to the stares of passersby, that person received the rain with their whole self.

"Pfft. Looks like someone's having a good time." Gaeul watched the mysterious rain-welcoming stranger and let out a small laugh, then turned back to her bed and lay down.

Gaeul got herself up once more to escape the stifling hospital room and get some fresh air outside. Looking out the window, she saw that the rain-welcoming stranger had vanished somewhere, and in the place where he had stood, the rain was still falling. Gaeul found herself quietly curious about that person. What would it feel like to stand in the rain like that? Would it actually feel good? She asked herself, though the question was almost pointless, because her heart had already decided; the way someone who had already made up their mind to get rained on had, and without thinking she was already gathering her outer jacket and pulling her arms through the sleeves. At the entrance, beyond the great pane of glass, the pouring rain seemed to beckon her: “come, come”. Gaeul pushed quickly through the revolving glass door and walked out, step by step. As she moved her feet, one by one, into the falling rain, the thick drops thinned, one by one, as though in answer.

"What, why is the rain stopping now, of all times. How annoying."

The cloud that had been holding the rain drifted away into the distance. But right behind it, another cloud rolled in and began scattering its water, soaking the ground.

Gaeul got herself up once more to escape the stifling hospital room and get some fresh air outside. Looking out the window, she saw that the rain-welcoming stranger had vanished somewhere, and in the place where he had stood, the rain was still falling. Gaeul found herself quietly curious about that person. What would it feel like to stand in the rain like that? Would it actually feel good? She asked herself, though the question was almost pointless, because her heart had already decided; the way someone who had already made up their mind to get rained on had, and without thinking she was already gathering her outer jacket and pulling her arms through the sleeves. At the entrance, beyond the great pane of glass, the pouring rain seemed to beckon her: “come, come”. Gaeul pushed quickly through the revolving glass door and walked out, step by step. As she moved her feet, one by one, into the falling rain, the thick drops thinned, one by one, as though in answer.

"What, why is the rain stopping now, of all times. How annoying."

The cloud that had been holding the rain drifted away into the distance. But right behind it, another cloud rolled in and began scattering its water, soaking the ground.

"Hehe."

Gaeul smiled as she walked through the curtain of rain. Her clothes were drenched in an instant, and the weight of the water settled over her head and shoulders. Just as she had sensed from the rain-welcoming stranger, now she felt it herself on her own skin: something like a freedom she had never felt before. It felt as though a kind of rust, corroded over long years, was being slowly washed away. Gaeul looked at a puddle rippling at her feet and felt the sudden urge to lie down in it, and immediately acted on it. A feeling different again from standing spread through every corner of her heart. But it was not easy to endure the rainwater that pushed its way ceaselessly into her nostrils, and she turned her head slightly to the side. The sound of water droplets splashing and bouncing was remarkably refreshing. The rolling thunder approaching in the distance added richness to the rain's song and made Gaeul's heart grow quieter still. And then, in that moment, something like a human voice reached her ears.

‘Worthless life.’
‘Abandoned life by her own parents.’

At the cursing voice, Gaeul slowly opened the eyes she had been keeping closed. The fragments of raindrops shattering against the ground beat mercilessly against her eyes, and they slowly turned red.

‘Why are you still alive? Why live? Just end your life? Just die.’‘Die. Die.’

The voice sounded strangely familiar, as though she had heard it many times before somewhere. But Gaeul did not respond to it. She simply raised her lying body back up. Not quite wanting to go straight back to the hospital room, she looked around for somewhere she could sit for a while. Just then, across the crosswalk, a covered bus shelter caught her eye and she walked toward it. She opened the door and stepped inside; a warm current of air wrapped itself around her body. She had inwardly worried there might be people inside, but thankfully there was no one. Gaeul sat down in the far corner and rested her head against the wall.

A few minutes passed. Someone opened the door and stepped into the shelter.

"It's really coming down, isn't it?"

A child nodded his head up and down vigorously, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"Let's sit over here."

The child and the man sat down in a spot well away from Gaeul and warmed themselves beneath the heater.

"Dad," the child said.

"When does the bus come?"

"The bus? Let me see. It says twelve minutes?"

"The buses must be running slow because of all the rain today."

"Really? Good. I like it here, it's warm."

"Isn't it? Nice and warm. Let's dry our clothes off while we wait for the bus."

The child bounced their dangling feet, too short to reach the floor, kicking them in a playful rhythm for a good while.

Then the child opened their mouth again.

"Daaad."

"Yeaah?"

"Iiii," the child drew out their words.

"Yeees, whaaaat," the man followed along, stretching his words out to match.

"I'm sorry."

The man, startled by the sudden confession, asked:

"Why?"

"I, I got mad at my friend earlier because I hated him, and I grabbed his pencil case and threw it on the ground."

"Why? What made you so upset?"

"He called me poop. So I told him I wasn't poop, but he kept saying I was poop. So I got mad and threw it."

"And then I, I kicked it far away, and, put it in the trash. And then the teacher scolded me. She said if I do things like that to my friend I'm a bad kid."

The man laughed and said:

"No, our son did the right thing, didn't he? Why is that friend calling you poop? Our son isn't poop, right?"

"No, I'm a bad kid. I'm sorry."

The child sniffled and went on:

"And I want to get a present... The teacher said if I get angry like that, I won't get a present next week. She said she won't give me one. She said it's only for good kids. I'm a bad kid."

"No, you were a good kid from the moment you were born. Not a bad kid. You're still a good kid."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Even when I say mean things to my friend?"

"Yes."

"You don't hate me when I do bad things, Dad?"

"No, I don't hate you."

"Even then? Even then? Even then?"

The child brought forward thousands of reasons, asking over and over whether he was truly a good kid, whether he could still receive the present, whether he could truly be loved: seeking confirmation from the man, again and again, of their worthiness for it.

Before long the bus arrived, and the child cried "The bus!" and jumped to their feet. The man rose alongside the child. Gaeul also opened the eyes she had been keeping closed, and though she did not look at them directly, she saw the man's and the child's faces reflected in the glass. The man was straightening his clothes and smiling a gentle smile at the child who was bouncing on their feet. Having never seen such a soft smile in all her life, Gaeul felt her heart pulled toward it in an instant. And then, quietly, he let fall one last word to the child as he reached out to them:

"Come on, hold Dad's hand."

"Still, you are just so dear to me."

The man and the child were gone, and Gaeul was left alone in the bus shelter. As they departed, some of the warmth and the gentle air went with them, and cold air crept in to fill the shelter. Then the warm breath from the heater came, a little late, and folded the cold air into itself. A stillness settled over the shelter; and into that stillness came neither the warm air itself, nor the sound of rain against the roof, nor the distant sound of a car slicing through the rain, but the single sentence of the passing man, filling the space entirely.

'Still, you are so dear to me.'
'Still, you are so dear to me.'

Strangely, rainwater began to run from Gaeul's eyes. The rain that had soaked her hair had long since dried, she had come in under a roof to escape the rain, and yet from somewhere with nowhere to leak through, rainwater had crept quietly into the corners of her eyes. Crackle, crackle, a sound like crackling embers, the sound of raindrops falling, continued on for the rest of that day. As though the man's single sentence had been carried down inside each falling raindrop, beneath the clouds banked thick across the sky, droplets of love fell ceaselessly down: to the earth below, and upon Gaeul's head. Somewhere deep inside her, the bolt of a tightly locked door of the heart began to shake.

Autumn 4, 2024

CHAPTER 3/3

It is raining. As though the sky has finally burst into tears, sheets of rain have been pouring down without pause since the afternoon. There is a saying that snow and rain fall from the sky and, rather than returning to the sky, come down to the earth to make new shoots grow. The promises that come from God are said to work in the same way; they do not return to Him but fall upon the earth and bring those things to pass. One wonders, then, what promises there might be. How many countless promises are falling from the sky right now, becoming rain, dropping down to the earth?

Several days had passed since Yeon-ui had come and gone, and in that time Gaeul's body had recovered considerably. Lying in the hospital room with nothing to do, staring at the ceiling, Gaeul was fighting hard against boredom. She hauled her heavy body upright and went to the window to watch the people passing on the street below. Beneath the relentless curtain of rain, some shielded themselves with bags, with umbrellas, or by ducking under eaves; but among them, one person spread both arms wide as though he had been waiting for exactly this rain, welcoming it into his body. Hair plastered flat, the round curve of their skull laid bare, a thin shirt gone see-through; and yet, indifferent to the stares of passersby, that person received the rain with their whole self.

"Pfft. Looks like someone's having a good time." Gaeul watched the mysterious rain-welcoming stranger and let out a small laugh, then turned back to her bed and lay down.

Gaeul got herself up once more to escape the stifling hospital room and get some fresh air outside. Looking out the window, she saw that the rain-welcoming stranger had vanished somewhere, and in the place where he had stood, the rain was still falling. Gaeul found herself quietly curious about that person. What would it feel like to stand in the rain like that? Would it actually feel good? She asked herself, though the question was almost pointless, because her heart had already decided; the way someone who had already made up their mind to get rained on had, and without thinking she was already gathering her outer jacket and pulling her arms through the sleeves. At the entrance, beyond the great pane of glass, the pouring rain seemed to beckon her: “come, come”. Gaeul pushed quickly through the revolving glass door and walked out, step by step. As she moved her feet, one by one, into the falling rain, the thick drops thinned, one by one, as though in answer.

"What, why is the rain stopping now, of all times. How annoying."

The cloud that had been holding the rain drifted away into the distance. But right behind it, another cloud rolled in and began scattering its water, soaking the ground.

Gaeul got herself up once more to escape the stifling hospital room and get some fresh air outside. Looking out the window, she saw that the rain-welcoming stranger had vanished somewhere, and in the place where he had stood, the rain was still falling. Gaeul found herself quietly curious about that person. What would it feel like to stand in the rain like that? Would it actually feel good? She asked herself, though the question was almost pointless, because her heart had already decided; the way someone who had already made up their mind to get rained on had, and without thinking she was already gathering her outer jacket and pulling her arms through the sleeves. At the entrance, beyond the great pane of glass, the pouring rain seemed to beckon her: “come, come”. Gaeul pushed quickly through the revolving glass door and walked out, step by step. As she moved her feet, one by one, into the falling rain, the thick drops thinned, one by one, as though in answer.

"What, why is the rain stopping now, of all times. How annoying."

The cloud that had been holding the rain drifted away into the distance. But right behind it, another cloud rolled in and began scattering its water, soaking the ground.

"Hehe."

Gaeul smiled as she walked through the curtain of rain. Her clothes were drenched in an instant, and the weight of the water settled over her head and shoulders. Just as she had sensed from the rain-welcoming stranger, now she felt it herself on her own skin: something like a freedom she had never felt before. It felt as though a kind of rust, corroded over long years, was being slowly washed away. Gaeul looked at a puddle rippling at her feet and felt the sudden urge to lie down in it, and immediately acted on it. A feeling different again from standing spread through every corner of her heart. But it was not easy to endure the rainwater that pushed its way ceaselessly into her nostrils, and she turned her head slightly to the side. The sound of water droplets splashing and bouncing was remarkably refreshing. The rolling thunder approaching in the distance added richness to the rain's song and made Gaeul's heart grow quieter still. And then, in that moment, something like a human voice reached her ears.

‘Worthless life.’
‘Abandoned life by her own parents.’

At the cursing voice, Gaeul slowly opened the eyes she had been keeping closed. The fragments of raindrops shattering against the ground beat mercilessly against her eyes, and they slowly turned red.

‘Why are you still alive? Why live? Just end your life? Just die.’‘Die. Die.’

The voice sounded strangely familiar, as though she had heard it many times before somewhere. But Gaeul did not respond to it. She simply raised her lying body back up. Not quite wanting to go straight back to the hospital room, she looked around for somewhere she could sit for a while. Just then, across the crosswalk, a covered bus shelter caught her eye and she walked toward it. She opened the door and stepped inside; a warm current of air wrapped itself around her body. She had inwardly worried there might be people inside, but thankfully there was no one. Gaeul sat down in the far corner and rested her head against the wall.

A few minutes passed. Someone opened the door and stepped into the shelter.

"It's really coming down, isn't it?"

A child nodded his head up and down vigorously, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"Let's sit over here."

The child and the man sat down in a spot well away from Gaeul and warmed themselves beneath the heater.

"Dad," the child said.

"When does the bus come?"

"The bus? Let me see. It says twelve minutes?"

"The buses must be running slow because of all the rain today."

"Really? Good. I like it here, it's warm."

"Isn't it? Nice and warm. Let's dry our clothes off while we wait for the bus."

The child bounced their dangling feet, too short to reach the floor, kicking them in a playful rhythm for a good while.

Then the child opened their mouth again.

"Daaad."

"Yeaah?"

"Iiii," the child drew out their words.

"Yeees, whaaaat," the man followed along, stretching his words out to match.

"I'm sorry."

The man, startled by the sudden confession, asked:

"Why?"

"I, I got mad at my friend earlier because I hated him, and I grabbed his pencil case and threw it on the ground."

"Why? What made you so upset?"

"He called me poop. So I told him I wasn't poop, but he kept saying I was poop. So I got mad and threw it."

"And then I, I kicked it far away, and, put it in the trash. And then the teacher scolded me. She said if I do things like that to my friend I'm a bad kid."

The man laughed and said:

"No, our son did the right thing, didn't he? Why is that friend calling you poop? Our son isn't poop, right?"

"No, I'm a bad kid. I'm sorry."

The child sniffled and went on:

"And I want to get a present... The teacher said if I get angry like that, I won't get a present next week. She said she won't give me one. She said it's only for good kids. I'm a bad kid."

"No, you were a good kid from the moment you were born. Not a bad kid. You're still a good kid."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Even when I say mean things to my friend?"

"Yes."

"You don't hate me when I do bad things, Dad?"

"No, I don't hate you."

"Even then? Even then? Even then?"

The child brought forward thousands of reasons, asking over and over whether he was truly a good kid, whether he could still receive the present, whether he could truly be loved: seeking confirmation from the man, again and again, of their worthiness for it.

Before long the bus arrived, and the child cried "The bus!" and jumped to their feet. The man rose alongside the child. Gaeul also opened the eyes she had been keeping closed, and though she did not look at them directly, she saw the man's and the child's faces reflected in the glass. The man was straightening his clothes and smiling a gentle smile at the child who was bouncing on their feet. Having never seen such a soft smile in all her life, Gaeul felt her heart pulled toward it in an instant. And then, quietly, he let fall one last word to the child as he reached out to them:

"Come on, hold Dad's hand."

"Still, you are just so dear to me."

The man and the child were gone, and Gaeul was left alone in the bus shelter. As they departed, some of the warmth and the gentle air went with them, and cold air crept in to fill the shelter. Then the warm breath from the heater came, a little late, and folded the cold air into itself. A stillness settled over the shelter; and into that stillness came neither the warm air itself, nor the sound of rain against the roof, nor the distant sound of a car slicing through the rain, but the single sentence of the passing man, filling the space entirely.

'Still, you are so dear to me.'
'Still, you are so dear to me.'

Strangely, rainwater began to run from Gaeul's eyes. The rain that had soaked her hair had long since dried, she had come in under a roof to escape the rain, and yet from somewhere with nowhere to leak through, rainwater had crept quietly into the corners of her eyes. Crackle, crackle, a sound like crackling embers, the sound of raindrops falling, continued on for the rest of that day. As though the man's single sentence had been carried down inside each falling raindrop, beneath the clouds banked thick across the sky, droplets of love fell ceaselessly down: to the earth below, and upon Gaeul's head. Somewhere deep inside her, the bolt of a tightly locked door of the heart began to shake.

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Autumn 4, 2024

Autumn 4, 2024

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Work in progress (Autumn 4, 2024)