Chapter 52: The Beginning of the Tipping Point
Everyone stared at Lee Ji-won with stunned expressions after her sudden appearance.
“May I sit here for a moment?”
“Y-Yes, of course! Please do.”
Yoo-jin stammered, gesturing to the seat next to her.
As Lee Ji-won gracefully settled into the seat, her captivating eyes turned toward me, and she asked with a polite tone.
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to join in on the volunteer work at the nursery. Is that okay?”
“Why would it be up to me to allow or disallow you? If you’re offering to help, that’s more than enough.”
It was a volunteer activity where no one earned a single cent, and she was willingly offering her time—that alone was something to be grateful for.
Besides, everyone here was trustworthy.
There was no need to mention the three others—they were like family to me.
And as for Lee Ji-won, despite her initially aloof demeanor, I had come to know she had a deep sense of compassion and a kind heart.
She wasn’t the best at expressing it outwardly, but it was there.
“Fine, all right. Let’s all go together. We need to fulfill our volunteer hours to graduate anyway. I’ll talk to the director mother.”
“Hey, you don’t need to do that, Hyung. It makes it sound like we’re only going because of the required hours.”
“Okay, okay, Ga-haeng. If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll exclude you from it.”
Realizing his slip-up, Ga-haeng glanced at me and hastily corrected himself.
“Ahem. I spoke rashly. If you’re offering it, I’ll humbly accept—that’s the proper way to show gratitude.”
“No, no. I didn’t realize your intentions were so pure. As your Hyung, I can’t tarnish your noble heart with something as petty as volunteer hour certificates.”
“Please spare me, Hyung! I just want to graduate! Waaaah.”
At that, Ga-haeng dramatically clung to me with a tearful expression, causing the group to erupt into laughter.
Even Lee Ji-won, who rarely showed emotion, couldn’t suppress the slight crack in her stoic demeanor—a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“Volunteering at Sapling Nursery…”
It was a first for me.
Bringing friends to my hometown.
When I was younger, I used to see living in a nursery as a shameful secret.
But now, things are different.
Everyone here already knew I grew up in a nursery, and I was no longer ashamed of it.
A strange mix of anticipation and excitement began to bloom in my chest.
“Kyahaha! This is fun!”
“Let go, you little rascals! Hyung is exhausted.”
“Get him! He’s a villain!”
“Who in the world looks at him and sees a villain?”
With three kids clinging to his arms and legs, Ga-haeng stumbled around like the Pied Piper, herding the children wherever he went.
“Unnie! So? What happened next?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Mm-hmm! I’m so curious!”
“If you promise to be good from now on, I’ll tell you.”
“Okay! Chae-won will be good from now on!”
“Alright, it’s a deal. This is a promise between girls. And let me tell you, a girl who breaks her promises can never become a true sang-yeo-ja 1(The term “sang-yeo-ja” (상여자) in Korean is a colloquial phrase that translates roughly to “lady” or “true lady.” It’s often used to emphasize the qualities of someone who is dependable, honest, or mature, particularly in keeping promises or maintaining integrity. In the given context, it conveys the idea that a “true sang-yeo-ja” is someone who values and honors commitments, suggesting a sense of responsibility and sincerity as essential traits of being a “true lady”.). You get what I mean?”
“Yup! Mi-jin will be a sang-yeo-ja too!”
Yoo-jin, with her silver tongue, was spreading some kind of philosophy to the young girls like a charismatic cult leader.
“Unnie, is this how I fold it?”
“If you fold it like that, the angle won’t come out right. When that happens, use your nail to fold along the crease like this.”
“Unnie, can you take a look at what I made?”
“For your first try, it’s not bad, but it lacks detail. Origami is all about effort and precision. Watch how I do it.”
With her delicate, jade-like hands, Lee Ji-won transformed a plain red sheet of paper into a beautiful flower in no time.
The children stared in awe, as if they were witnessing some divine miracle.
“See? It’s not easy at first, but if you keep practicing, you can make something like this. The key is consistency. If you slack off, even for a day, you’ll never reach this level.”
“Mm-hmm! I’ll work hard!”
“Unnie! Can you make a dragon too?”
“It’s not exactly beginner-level, but for me? No problem. Bring me some paper.”
The red paper crumpled and folded swiftly under Lee Ji-won’s deft fingers.
Moments later, a majestic crimson dragon stood proudly on the table.
The children’s eyes sparkled with excitement as their tiny hands erupted in applause.
“Wow! It’s a real dragon! So cool!”
“Unnie, how do you make this? I want to learn too!”
“Me too, me too! Teach me too!”
As the children clamored, Lee Ji-won raised her hand firmly, her voice calm yet commanding.
“Quiet. If you keep pestering me, I won’t teach you. Nothing in this world comes for free. This is a skill. At least, if you want to learn, you need to show proper respect.”
Her composed tone silenced their whining, and the children immediately sat up straight, waiting quietly.
“Good. I’ll teach you just this once, so pay close attention. Opportunities like this don’t come often. Whether you seize it or let it slip away is entirely up to you. Let’s begin.”
The intensity in the children’s eyes was almost frightening, their focus sharp as lasers. They didn’t even dare to breathe loudly as they absorbed her origami lesson.
Watching this, I couldn’t help but click my tongue.
“Is this teaching or animal training…?”
The kids clinging to Lee Ji-won were notorious troublemakers within the nursery.
Yet, in her presence, they sat quietly like proper young ladies, their demeanor so out of character that I couldn’t suppress a chuckle.
‘Still, they’re all doing pretty well.’
Ga-haeng, with his impressive endurance, was entertaining the children’s antics like an indomitable tank.
Yoo-jin, with her silver tongue, had charmed the girls into rallying around her.
Joo-hee, as naturally friendly as ever, handled the kids like a seasoned daycare teacher.
And then there was Lee Ji-won, reigning over the children with her unique charisma, guiding them through what could only be described as life lessons disguised as origami tutorials.
Seeing them blend so seamlessly with the children brought a warm smile to my face.
Just then, the director, seated in her wheelchair, approached me.
“Your leg is still healing; you should be resting. Why did you come out here?”
“Hohoho. How could I stay inside when Dae-woon’s friends are visiting? I had to see for myself.”
Recently, a renowned orthopedic surgeon had examined the director’s legs in detail.
Thankfully, they had found a way to improve her condition, and she was now undergoing outpatient treatment.
Director Kang Maria’s wrinkled eyes turned toward the laughing children.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the kids this happy… It makes me feel so good just watching them.”
“Right? I didn’t think they’d enjoy themselves this much either.”
Nursery children, by nature, were starved for affection. But they weren’t quick to open their hearts to strangers.
It was fear of getting hurt that made them wary.
At first, they’d give their affection freely, not knowing any better.
Then, after volunteers failed to return, they’d grow disheartened.
When this happened repeatedly, the emotional wounds would harden into callouses, making it nearly impossible for them to trust or connect easily again.
How do I know all this so well?
Because that’s how I was.
Director Kang Maria, knowing this all too well, was cautious about accepting volunteers, despite the shortage of hands.
She feared that even if her aging body wore out, she couldn’t bear to see the children hurt again.
Understanding her noble intentions made my heart ache, like being pricked with tiny needles, whenever I thought of her.
“Did you know? Until I was about to enter elementary school, I didn’t realize that families consisted of a mom, a dad, and their child. Looking back now, I thought one of the volunteer teachers was my real mom. Hahaha.”
As if talking to myself, I spoke softly, and the director silently gazed at me, her expression calm but full of understanding.
“It wasn’t until I went to an amusement park by chance that I realized the truth. I saw a child holding hands with their mom and dad on either side and thought, ‘Oh, that’s what a normal family looks like.’ It hit me then—that calling the teachers here ‘Mom’ alongside twenty other kids wasn’t what a real family was supposed to be.”
The sympathy in Director Kang’s eyes deepened as she listened to my story.
“From that moment, I convinced myself I didn’t have a family. I lived as if I were entirely alone in the world. Then, I ended up boarding a ship and heading out to sea. I shouldn’t put it this way, but… I was so desperate I wanted to die. It was unbearably lonely.”
The director’s frail, wrinkled hand gently stroked my back, her touch tender and comforting, as if soothing the knots of pain within me.
“While watching the sunrise over the vast Pacific Ocean, I thought of you often, Mother. One time, the captain I was working with told me, ‘When you stand before the sea, the first person who comes to mind is the one you love most.’”
“You’ve been through so much. Thank you for enduring it all.”
I wasn’t sure what she was thanking me for, but confessing the feelings I had buried for so long left me feeling surprisingly light, as though a weight had been lifted.
Then, a question I had carried for years rose to the surface, and I finally asked her.
“Are you okay, Mother?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“Honestly… it must be hard for you. Taking care of so many kids all on your own, the sacrifices you make… is it really okay with you?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I was overcome with a surge of fear.
What if Director Mother admitted, ‘Actually, it’s not okay?’
But my worries were unfounded.
Director Kang Maria, with her ever-kind smile, turned her gaze toward the children playing joyfully in the yard.
“Hohoho, what are you talking about? Of course, it’s hard. Is there anything in this world that isn’t? But… the happiness the children give me is so much greater and deeper than the hardships. I’m always grateful to God for blessing me with these children.”
At that moment, my nose tingle, and the corners of my eyes stung. I had spoken of sacrifice, yet she answered with devotion.
For the first time, I felt relieved and thankful that such a person had been like a mother to me.
Embarrassed by my rising emotions, I feigned a yawn to mask the wave of feelings washing over me.
“And when I see my Dae-woon growing up so well, turning into such a fine person and even repaying me with filial kindness… this mother couldn’t be any happier.”
“Ahem. Kindness? It’s just something I should do. Anyway, should we call the kids now? It’s about time for dinner. Hey, kids! Time to eat! If you’re late, no dinner for you! Today’s a pizza and chicken party!”
The mention of pizza and chicken sent the kids sprinting toward the dining hall like a swarm of bees.
Whether she understood how much her words had moved me or not, Director Mother just gave me a warm, satisfied smile.
“Hah… I’m completely exhausted.”
Looking like he had aged ten years, Ga-haeng slumped onto the bench on the playground, utterly drained.
“Ughhh…”
“You did great. I didn’t expect you to be so good with kids.”
“Did you see that? Those kids wouldn’t leave my side! This is what I’m capable of!”
Ga-haeng, his hair a mess and his eyes weary, gave a bright smile and a thumbs-up.
Feeling a twinge of sympathy, I silently patted his shoulder.
“Anyway, you all worked hard today. Thank you so much.”
“Hohoho, what’s there to thank? I can’t even tell if we came here to volunteer or just have fun—it was so enjoyable!”
“You looked like you were having a blast.”
Ga-haeng said, looking at Yoo-jin with a hint of envy.
“I think I should come back more often. The kids kept asking me to teach them how to fold a phoenix.”
Her voice sounded flat, almost emotionless, but I could recognize it now—the faint undertone of pride and joy hidden within her words.
“By the way, the kids have been pestering us to take them on an outing. Should we organize a trip?”
Ga-haeng asked and I scratched my chin thoughtfully.
“Hmm… an outing, huh? Maybe we should take them to the beach.”
“Aren’t you tired of the sea? You spent years out there.”
Yoo-jin remarked, tilting her head.
I turned my gaze forward, staring at the horizon as the sunset began to spread across the sky, painting the playground in hues of purple.
“I like the sea. The sea shares so much without asking for anything in return. That’s something I never had in my world. Even back at the nursery, I had to barter smiles just to get a toy.”
The mood turned somber, and I realized I’d said too much. I quickly tried to lighten the atmosphere.
“Of course, thanks to that, I became a master of smiling!”
“True enough. You do have the best laugh.”
Yoo-jin said with a grin.
“Yeah, you laugh just like Dong Zhuo. 2(He was a controversial and infamous character in Chinese history and literature, particularly in Romance of the Three Kingdoms, known for his opportunistic and tyrannical nature.)”
“Wait, wasn’t Dong Zhuo a bad guy?”
Clearly, they were just as uncomfortable with the heavy atmosphere as I was, so they played along, keeping the conversation light.
And so, that day of volunteering came to an end—a day that quietly soothed the scars etched into my heart.
A few days later.
It was finally my first day as an intern at Buksan Ventures.
At the time, I had no idea that this seemingly ordinary internship would become the tipping point of my life.
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