To visit halmoni in Pohang, Boka and Haeng set out early in the morning. Even though they always arrive around the same time, halmoni often greets them with, “Why are you so late?”—a phrase that has become a familiar welcome. Today was no exception; with a voice livelier than usual, she greeted activists.
After a brief greeting, they headed out to eat godi-guk (a traditional dish with marsh snail greens), which halmoni enjoys. As soon as the food arrived, however, she said she wouldn’t be able to finish her dish and immediately poured half of her soup into Haeng’s bowl. She set down her spoon first, leaving some rice uneaten. It was a little worrying—perhaps her appetite has lessened, or she had a snack earlier in the day.
After lunch, they visited a nearby market to buy some groceries. Haeng, who has been visiting halmoni for the past ten years, is known to her as "Jeong Dae-hyeop (former name of the Korean Council)." For halmoni, this name doesn't just represent the organization but also symbolizes Haeng herself, as if her last name were Jeong and her first name Dae-hyeop. While Haeng was paying at the counter, halmoni turned to Boka and repeatedly said that Haeng felt like her own daughter. Watching the way she looked at Haeng's back, her eyes seemed filled with warmth.
Back at halmoni’s house, they had a long, heartfelt conversation. Throughout the visit, she urged them to “pick at something and eat!” She offered them fruits, rice cakes, health drinks, and sweet rice punch. Even though they’d just had lunch and protested, “Halmoni, we’re so full. Let’s eat together,” she declined, saying she was full, yet continued to insist they eat more.
An anonymous package arrived at the office a few days before the visit. Inside were pain relief patches, a scarf, a hat, nutritional drinks, and a letter from a sender who identified themselves as “a mother of one.” The letter expressed hope that the halmonis would always be healthy and full of happiness. The activists thoughtfully distributed the items to the halmonis according to each person’s needs. For the Pohang halmoni, they chose the pain relief patches she often uses and a gray hat. She was delighted with the gifts and wore the hat, carefully tying the strap under her chin. She kept it on until the activists left. With its wide brim, it would be perfect for the upcoming summer.
As the activists packed their things to return to Seoul, halmoni asked, “Will you come again? To see me?” Despite their regular calls and monthly visits, her words struck a chord—something about them felt especially memorable.
Of course we’ll come again, halmoni. Let’s keep meeting for a long time—going out for delicious food, shopping, and playing cards together. Please stay healthy until we visit again next month.
After a brief greeting, they headed out to eat godi-guk (a traditional dish with marsh snail greens), which halmoni enjoys. As soon as the food arrived, however, she said she wouldn’t be able to finish her dish and immediately poured half of her soup into Haeng’s bowl. She set down her spoon first, leaving some rice uneaten. It was a little worrying—perhaps her appetite has lessened, or she had a snack earlier in the day.
After lunch, they visited a nearby market to buy some groceries. Haeng, who has been visiting halmoni for the past ten years, is known to her as "Jeong Dae-hyeop (former name of the Korean Council)." For halmoni, this name doesn't just represent the organization but also symbolizes Haeng herself, as if her last name were Jeong and her first name Dae-hyeop. While Haeng was paying at the counter, halmoni turned to Boka and repeatedly said that Haeng felt like her own daughter. Watching the way she looked at Haeng's back, her eyes seemed filled with warmth.
Back at halmoni’s house, they had a long, heartfelt conversation. Throughout the visit, she urged them to “pick at something and eat!” She offered them fruits, rice cakes, health drinks, and sweet rice punch. Even though they’d just had lunch and protested, “Halmoni, we’re so full. Let’s eat together,” she declined, saying she was full, yet continued to insist they eat more.
An anonymous package arrived at the office a few days before the visit. Inside were pain relief patches, a scarf, a hat, nutritional drinks, and a letter from a sender who identified themselves as “a mother of one.” The letter expressed hope that the halmonis would always be healthy and full of happiness. The activists thoughtfully distributed the items to the halmonis according to each person’s needs. For the Pohang halmoni, they chose the pain relief patches she often uses and a gray hat. She was delighted with the gifts and wore the hat, carefully tying the strap under her chin. She kept it on until the activists left. With its wide brim, it would be perfect for the upcoming summer.
As the activists packed their things to return to Seoul, halmoni asked, “Will you come again? To see me?” Despite their regular calls and monthly visits, her words struck a chord—something about them felt especially memorable.
Of course we’ll come again, halmoni. Let’s keep meeting for a long time—going out for delicious food, shopping, and playing cards together. Please stay healthy until we visit again next month.