Sieun Kim / Chapter 3_final draft / Tuesday 1pm

My Grandma, Hyoungran

Hyoungran is my grandmother. She is a small lady with a black hair. She does not look like a grandmother. Actually I don't feel like being with a grandma when I am with her. I was greatly surprised when I was noticed that she is already 74. She told me her story and it was same as what I learned in my history class.

Hyoungran was the first person I saw after I was born because she was the one who was handed me to from the doctor. I do not remember her face of the moment I first seen of her but I can guess that she would have hold me smiling sweetly and hugged me warmly. I know she had acted like it because I have seen her taking care of a puppy at her house with a smile and warm hug after I became an adult. She likes babies and small animals. Anyone can realize that she is a warm-hearted and generous person when they meet her.

Her friendly smile opened my mind. She became a best friend to me. We met very often since we lived in a same neighborhood. We went shopping together, talked about what happened last day each other, cooked together for our family, and studied together. She always listened to what I say with heartfelt reactions. She practically raised me until I became an adult. I could gain valuable experience with her and establish my values through her.

Now, we don't live in a same neighborhood but I visit her often and she always welcomes me. I believe that I am a very lucky person to have a precious grandma like Hyoungran. I love her so much and like to spend time with her. And I know I am a special child to her, too. 

Harim Kim/Final Draft for ch.3/Tuesday 1pm

                                                          True Believer

I met Yuna Kang last semester, as a newcomer at a press I have been working until now. I still remember the moment when she first walked into the room I was waiting. With the small, brown glasses she always wears, she seemed like the nicest person you could be around. Frankly, I could not feel anything special about her appearance. But like always, first impressions are not good enough to define someone. Her stories were one of the most fascinating ones I have ever heard. Also, I was quite amazed by the upright honesty of the stories and her life. It is her fifth year at HUFS, and those five years are more than spectacular.

We like to meet at a cafe near campus. She is currently the vice student president of our university. That day, she was quite dressed up. I asked her why because I recall her wearing jeans and sweaters everyday because she lives in Il-san, where is two hours away from Imun-dong where the campus is located and she was always busy. But now, as a vice-president, she meets new people everyday. "Dressing formally makes me more confident, I guess." She answered. I understood her. She wants to look responsible and trustworthy at any circumstance. The new dress code is just one of the efforts she is making. Before asking her formal questions I prepared, we chatted awhile. I, as an editor in chief of the magazine she established two years ago, the interview was a great opportunity for me to listen to the bottom of her heart.

She has always been serious about journalism. She always put an emphasis on how reporters should treat writing. So, for me and many other people, it was quite shocking when we heard that she was going to run for the school vice president. She is a natural-born journalist and she is so good at getting data and writing a decent articles with years of experience. I was so curious about the reason she changed her position at school. She laughed and took a  sip of the iced Cafe Latte, and laced her fingers. "Well, it's a long story." And with a nice cup of milk tea, I was ready for a long story. 

Yuna dreamed to be a professional journalist since she was a middle school student. During her term as an editor in chief at the school newspaper, the dream seemed to be not far away for her. But after the forced-resignation, she felt miserable and lost all hope about the power of journalism. She felt that the pen could be mightier than the sword only when representatives with certain power help them. That is the reason that made her run for the school vice president who represents students and has the right of decision for many school affairs. 

"I'd say I'm ambitious because I would really like to empower and support freedom of speech on campus. " She first talked in a strong tone. Her eyes glittered every time she talked about her agenda and dreams. Watching and listening to a person speak with a strong belief gives me chills every time. One afternoon was never going to be enough to understand her. As the conversation continued, I was touched by the bona fide affections she got for the fellow students and also for the community. She is a living example of 'an iron hand in a velvet glove.' She believes that a firm conviction and devotion could change every problem we tackle. Defining Yuna is not an easy task. One thing I am sure is that she is one of the strongest person I have ever met. 

Lee Chaehyun/Chapter 3 Final Draft/TUE 1PM

My mom is a very energetic and diligent person. She is quite lean and slim, because she always keeps a healthy diet. She has a short and black hair, a round face, eyebrows that are strong-willed as steel, but also has big black eyes that reveal she is an affectionate, warm-hearted person. She is the one that influenced my thoughts about importance of managing one's time.

During the weekdays she is very busy, yet always manages her time very well. My mom gets up early in the morning at six, makes us breakfast, and prepares to go to work. Working as a pharmacist, she do not come back home until 7PM. After she comes back home, right after changing her clothes, she goes out again to do her evening exercises, which is the part that she impresses me the most. I always ask her, "Aren't you tired? Your legs must pretty hurt." I've worked part-time in her pharmacy for a couple of weeks, and seen her so busy that she doesn't have time to sit down and relax for a while, except during lunch breaks. Then she replies, "Yeah, they hurt, but if I don't go working out for even a single day, I don't feel very refreshed." I always tell her I don't understand the part she relieves stress by working out, because I hate exercising. She says, chuckling, "You have to be diligent like me if you want to lose some weight." Then I can't say a word, because she's right.

Besides her daily working and exercising hours, my mom attends a study group once in a week, to study more about the medicines and their prescribing instructions. Her pursuit of learning is very strong; she thinks learning does not go with age. After the studying session ends, she comes back home very late on 12 AM. Recently, she also started learning how to use DSLR camera. She has great interests in taking pictures with it, and regards it as one of her new hobbies.

It is not only me that was surprised by the way my mom always keeps herself busy. She told me braggingly, that her friends were also impressed and had said, "You look as if you're living 48 hours a day, not 24 hours."

As I am a very lazy type of person, always lying in bed until the very last hour, I once asked her, "Don't you feel very tired, making yourself so busy almost every day?" "Of course I feel tired." She answered. "However, as long as I have enough strength to carry out this routine busy life, and as long as I have time for these self-developments, I feel thankful for it." I was utterly impressed by these optimistic thoughts of hers, since I acted totally opposite of her; I don't like to be busy, I hate going out of bed, I hate exercising… I have always been lazy, although I was more than twenty years younger than my mom. Her words changed my thoughts about managing my own time effectively.

Nowadays I try to get up early, try to go to cafes to study in the weekends, and try to go walk the dog in my free time. The lesson my mom gave me also significantly changed my former routine life of going to school in weekdays and staying in bed all day during the weekends. I will always keep her words in mind, and maybe try to go working out with her and get to like exercising someday.

 

Yeo Eun Ki/Final Draft for chapter 3/Tuesday 1pm

We talk over occasional long texts, my friend and I. She's attending a small, private college in Louisiana and I'm a student at HUFS. We haven't seen each other in three years. We don't even talk over the phone. And there hasn't been an exchange of selfies to remind each other what we look like. It's somewhat an odd, quirky friendship that may seem puzzling to some people, but it makes that just makes it even more meaningful for me.
  I don't exactly remember the first time I met her. And how we got to be friends, I honestly cannot say. But what I do remember is that before we became friends, I was intimidated by her slightly superior attitude, her poker face, and the wry smirk that played on her lips. Sometime in our freshman year of high school, we realized we had more in common than we thought and we slowly became friends. Now when I picture her in my mind, I can remember distinctly that she had bright hazel eyes that intensely stared into mine, and freckles scattered across her pale face. Her expression was usually impassive, bordering on bored. I could never really tell what she was thinking until she flashed a smile or directly told me how she felt.
  They say first impressions aren't everything, and I fully agree with that statement. Little did I know that the girl I had been slightly intimidated by would have one of the biggest hearts and funniest jokes I've come across in my twenty one years. My friend Rebekah, or Bekah as I like to affectionately call her, and I share very few personality traits. She is a scientist; cool, logical, and objective. I, as a budding literature student, can be sensitive and moody. As a future chemical engineer, she spends her times in labs while I read Forster and Fitzgerald. But somehow, with our shared love for books and sarcasm and general fondness for each other, we make our friendship work. She tells me she enjoys my long rambling messages because it seems very much like my character to write like so and I never get offended by her short and somewhat distant replies because I know that's just Rebekah. But she always cheers me up with an encouraging text when I tell her about a disastrous class presentation, and is always ready with a sound and clear advice when I send very long message in hysterics. One of our mutual friends once said to me, "Rebekah seems very serious, but she's very kind, isn't she?" And she is. Last year, I texted her a very long message because I was upset and wanted to talk to her. Telling her my problem and the amount of stress and worry it was giving me, I sent the message and hoped she would reply back soon. One minute later, she was texting me, telling me not to worry and very practically offering advice on what I can do. I immediately felt better…until I realized I had forgotten about the time difference and had texted her at 4 in the morning. I was so surprised, but she said she had woken up because of her phone vibrating to relay my messages to her. She had thought it was a big emergency.
  Rebekah and I haven't actually talked to each other in a long time. Instead, like the young, modern adults we are, we text each other a few times a week. And I can still hear her dry, witty tone in my head as I read each message she sends me. While I ramble on in my messages about the woes of an English major and keep her informed about everything from my unsuccessful relationship attempts to the strange aspects of Korean culture she might find interesting, her messages are parallel to her personality; straightforward and blunt. Uninterested in dating, she calls the boys in her classes 'idiots' and changes the subject back to the latest season of Doctor Who. She is the only person I know who will tell me she is going to bed early so could she please text tomorrow? And she is also one of the funniest people I know. Her messages to me are usually very serious, yet her dry humor makes me laugh aloud every time. Her observations are clever and her remarks amusing.
   Though I don't know when I'll see my friend again, our frequent messages to each other keep us in touch. We are not the type of friends that get upset if the other forgets to text back for five or six days. The bond between us can seem shaky to outsiders but it is actually quite strong. And I can only hope our connection stays strong for a long, long time.

Ha-eun Jeong/Final Draft of Chapter 3 Essay/Tuesday 1 p.m.

             It was on my first day in New Zealand, on July 5, 2006, when I first met Joanne, who is my best friend today. My first impression of her was unforgettable; she was wearing her school uniform t-shirt and trousers, and she was barefoot when she came out to greet me and other newcomers. She definitely did not seem to be bothered by cold weather; only her red cheeks reminded me that it was winter there. Neither she nor I really expected, or knew, that we would become best friends in the future.

             We did not really get along until after several months, not because we did not like each other, but we just had different groups of friends. Joanne had arrived here to study abroad months earlier than I did, and I had my own friends who came here with me. We used different rooms (and even different houses for some periods) for a while, so we did not really have a chance to get to know each other more. We finally started to get close after we came to Korea for a few weeks and left for New Zealand again. Ever since we went back to New Zealand together, we got to use a room together, which made us very close to each other.

             We did so many things together since we became roommates. We went out to buy some snacks together whenever we felt like it; we went to a nearby park together to take a walk; we sometimes changed the arrangement of furniture in our room together when we got bored; we played our favorite CDs or turned on our favorite radio channel all day long; we visited our drum teacher's house together and had lessons together, and so on. Even until now, we still talk about memories of those days and never grow tired of talking about them, and we have never run out of topics to chat about.

             After spending so much time with her, I found out that she was a naïve girl, just like my first impression of her, and she always loved sharing things with others. She liked to cook, so whenever she cooked she made food for all of us, not just for herself. Although both of us were only child, she was better at taking care for others, and I learned such consideration for others from her. Now, after almost ten years we first met, she has become a gorgeous, independent city girl majoring in industrial design. She still likes to invite me and our friends to her house to serve nice food she makes, and she never forgets to buy souvenirs whenever she goes travel. Although I miss some naïve parts of her in the past, such as walking barefoot with her cheeks red, I love her the way she is, and I am sure she does the same on me.

Eunwoo Kim/My heaven-sent friend_CH3 Final essay/Tue 5,6

My heaven-sent friend

 

 His name is Shin Yo Han which means John from the bible. His father, who is a pastor, named him like that. I have known him since 2013. I met him on the bus on the way to the workshop for the overseas volunteering program. Actually, he was a friend of my friend Bora from my university.

 "Hi, aren't you a friend of Bora?"

 "Yes! Oh, are you Yo Han? I've heard of you from Bora. Nice to meet you!"

 What a coincidence! I and he were planning to go overseas through the same volunteering program. That was our first meeting. Our next meeting was consecutively coincidence. I attended a summer camp called TGLC(Tomorrow Global Leaders' Camp) and I saw him being a campus reporter. I was amazed at him doing such an awesome work as an university student. Just in time, the <Tomorrow> magazine was looking for the new campus reporters, so I applied for it. Since I and he were preparing the same overseas volunteering program and working as campus reporters for the same magazine, we spent time together very often.

 He loves singing. He has baritone voice which sounds very soft and nice. He loves musical, jazz, and old pop. He always dreams to be an actor on a stage. Being a high school student, he lived in a dormitory. One day, he sang a song named Merry Chri by BOA, a female singer, in a restroom in his room. Since he sang so passionately, other students from upstairs declared him to a teacher. However, his passion toward singing never ended. Still, whenever I am with him, I see him singing very often. We sometimes sing African a cappella together and it is so much fun. If I get stressed sometimes because of many works, we sing together and it is one of my best stress relievers.

He is a well listener. Whenever I write articles for the magazine, it is never easy to me. If I am stuck while writing, I call and tell him everything about how I want to write this article, what the structure is to express my thoughts, but how I get stuck while writing. Then, he would say while listening "Oh, really? I got what you mean. But why do you want to write it in that way? Is there any special reason that you want to write like that?" He throws me some more points for me to think about it deeper, then somehow my problem becomes nothing later on. When he sympathizes with me struggling and having some problems, I am able to organize my thoughts better.

He is the best buddy to get some advices. One day, I fought with one guy friend because he said something rude to me. I was so mad at him and called Yo Han with high temper. I told him everything what happened and waited to listen to him reacting to sympathize with me. However, what he said was "Did you ask why he said like that to you? There must be a reason. I hope you guys talk each other deeply." instead of "Oh, he is so bad." At first, I felt bad because he didn't agree with me, but that made me to stop being angry and think about the friend's heart who made me angry. If Yo Han only just agreed with me, my mind set would stick to the thought that the guy friend is the bad one and I am the right one. I was thankful to my friend who made me to stop being upset and think rationally. I am really happy and lucky to have a friend like him.

Sangjee Lee /CH3 Essay Final /Tuesday 1.p.m

My Dear Grandmother

201302361 Sangjee Lee Tuesday 1 p.m.

She always smelled like a clean laundry. It was a soft and cozy smell that whenever you go near her, you get relaxed and want to take a nap. She was quite petite approximately 155cm. Her face, hand, and feet were all petite. She didn't have many wrinkles despite her age. There were few deep lines across the corner of her eyes and soft smile lines adored her face.  Her hair was always pulled back into neat bun and she wore plain binyeo, Korean traditional ornamental hairpin. She brushed her hair first thing in the morning. She said she used to have a thick and luxuriant hair but as time passes, her hair became very thin. Despite what she said, I thought her hair looked gorgeous like silver star. She brushed and brushed before putting on camellia oil, and then made a bun with binyo. She didn't wear any make up but she never forgot to do this little ritual even when she did not feel very well. After she did her hair, she wore soft pink cardigan that has small white flower prints all over it and skirt in pale blue-green. The whole thing looked almost solemn.

 She was always the one who woke up the earliest. I used to wake up by the sound of her sweeping a front yard.  The outside was still quite dark with the faint light that had a colour of soft grey. She patted the dogs and fed them early in the morning .Our two dogs loved her the most and followed her everywhere. Every time I try to play with them in the morning, my grandmother used to say, "Now, now, don't go near the dogs while they're eating. They can bite you .Above all, you don't want to wake up your mom and dad. They have to go to work and they need some sleep. Why don't you get some more sleep? It is still early." But I always refused to go to sleep and she knew I wouldn't, because she always gave me an apple after saying that. I sat on the chair eating apple and watched her while she finish sweeping the floor.

One time my mother got so angry that I did something that she told me not to do numerous times. Looking at her face, I was so scared that I did the one thing I thought was the most effective way to avoid punishment from my mother: hiding behind grandmother. Through lot of experience, I got to know that my mother seems to give up punishing me every time I hide behind my grandmother. Grandmother smiled softly and hid me behind her long skirt. Then she said, "I think she already learned her lesson. She won't do it next time, right?' while I nodded furiously. My mother sighed deeply and stopped being angry with me. I thought my grandmother had magical power.

Every time I woke up at dawn and saw the room filled with blue greyish colour and refreshing air, I think about my grandmother. She had a face of the dawn. She didn't express her emotion much but made everyone around her peaceful and warm. I never saw her get angry or upset. Also I never saw her laugh out loud or get excited. Memory of my grandmother always takes a special place in my heart.