The Saddest Persimmon � � � � � � � � � � � �

by Soyoung Early

My mom has always hated everything about persimmons. Growing up, I never understood why until the day she told me the story of her family.

It started when she was still in the womb. Her mom was happy then. Her husband would always bring home a bag of persimmons after work. Even though they ran a fruit orchard in northern Korea, they had to buy persimmons from the market, because persimmons could only grow in the south. He would always peel and slice them for her while asking how her day had been.

However, one night, he peeled the persimmons and ate them all without a word. Soon after, two large men in suits barged in the door and dragged him away. It was the last time she saw him alive.

It happened in the middle of the civil war during the 1950s in Korea. At that time, political executions were common. My grandfather was an anti-communist politician in the northernmost region of Korea, so it was only a matter of time before the communists would come for him. My grandmother held a miserable funeral alone with their unborn daughter, my mom, in her womb. This changed everything for my family; All the sweetness had gone with him, and only bitterness remained.

A year passed, and my grandmother now had four children, including my eight-month-old mom. As the war dragged on, she decided to flee to the south. However, her children were too young to all travel hundreds of miles on foot. She promised that she would come back as soon as she could. She took her oldest daughter by the hand and carried her baby on her back. It was the last time she saw the rest of her children.

Before she could return, the Korean War ended with her other children trapped in the north. The south, where the persimmons grew, became South Korea, and my grandmother became a missionary. She left for a remote mountain village for missionary work, helping those injured and orphaned by the war.

She could not bring her babies to rough places for her work, so she asked her aunt to take care of her two daughters instead. When my mom was old enough to notice that she had a mom and that her mom chose not to be with her, she started crying day and night. She could not understand how her mom could take care of so many strangers, but not her own daughter. My mom grew up without her mom and resented her.

She visited her mom only once, as a teenager, to ask why her mom left her. She thought, “What was the logical explanation for abandoning your two-year-old baby? Aren’t mothers supposed to take care of their babies?”

She could have asked thousands of questions, but she didn’t. When she saw her mom’s eyes water, she could not bring herself to ask. Not long after that visit, her mom left the sweet taste of persimmons behind for Heaven.

by Dina Gortman

Do you have friends who are addicted to fishing? While you might run back and forth to the car a hundred times, he can sit in one position for hours waiting for a fish until the bobber starts to twitch, and pulls out of the water a big fish.

What are some things that are worth waiting for? Special things come as a result of waiting, hard work, and faith. I met my future husband, Rudolf, six years ago in Russia, when I was sixteen years old. We were volunteers at a children’s camp in a village near Alatyr. We taught the children songs, and played outdoor games together. It was winter and we took the children sledding and tubing in the snow.

I know it sounds unbelievable, but when I met Rudolf, I knew right away he was the one. We immediately felt something special for each other. I can’t explain it in words; my heart was overfilled with peace, joy, and happiness when we were together. Even though we were very young, we were on the same wavelength. We shared the same world view. Rudolf had me with his kind heart, high spirits, soft tone, and love of kids. He also played the guitar and sang. I could imagine us spending time like this always. But everything ended, when the camp was over.

We left the camp and returned to Cheboksary where Rudy was staying with his host family. We had one more week together before Rudy had to return to his home in the USA. I was sixteen and I knew I had to wait. I needed to finish my high school. After two years, Rudy came back to Russia to return to the camp to work. During the two years apart, we continued to text and we felt our connection was even stronger. He proposed to me when he came back. We waited another year for all the travel documents to be processed. It ended up taking four years for the two of us to be together. It was very hard to be apart and had our future put on hold. You lived a life of experiences that cannot be shared with the one you love. I didn’t see how he was spending his time, and when I was with my friends, he couldn’t share my joy or sadness.

Finally, I received a letter from the embassy in Moscow. I prepared for my interview. Rudolf wanted to be with me in the embassy. We passed! We were so excited we bought my plane tickets. We just needed to wait for the visa to arrive. My family and friends set up a wonderful celebration for us. They gave speeches wishing us all the love and happiness. We sang and prayed together. My heart was filled with love and gratitude for everyone in my life, and for everything that was finally happening. I was worried about the visa, but I had faith. We had already bought tickets to the USA. We had nothing left to do but wait. In the end, on the day of our flight, my visa came. It was impossible to describe, what a relief it was. It was dream-like. Everything happened so fast. I could not believe this was my life. I was in America. I met Rudolf’s family and friends. They prepared everything for our wedding. Our reception was beautiful and bright. Rudolf and I sang, exchanged our vows, and fed each other wedding cake. We were the happiest people on earth. Before I knew it, six years had passed, and two of those years spent in isolation in the midst of a global pandemic. We now have two children. Our love grew beyond what I knew was possible when I was sixteen.

I appreciate the quiet and all the waiting. I’ve caught the best fish.

Anonymous Anonymous

I have a dream today.

For my family, I dream that they will be healthy. This is what my family needs. This is my dream.

For my community, I dream that our community will fight together for their rights. This is what my community needs. This is my dream.

For my world, I dream for all the world to be safe and sound. This is what my world needs. This is my dream.

And for myself, I dream that I will understand my English lessons. This is what I hope for. This is my dream. I have a dream today.

For my family, I dream that my family is kept well. This is what my family needs. This is my dream.

For my community, I dream that it is always safe. This is what my community needs. This is my dream.

For my world, I dream that there is safety everywhere all over the world. This is what my world needs. This is my dream.

And for myself, I dream of getting a driving license in America and learning more English. This is my hope. This is my dream.

by Saad Al Dulaimi

I entered primary school when I was 6 years old. My school was called Al Maaref Elementary School for Boys and it was located in the capital of Iraq, Baghdad, in the city of Zafaraniyah. It is still in the same place in this city. I used to love my school and love to study.

My father was from the blue collar class. He was a worker in a soft drink factory in Baghdad. My father encouraged me to study and get a good future in order to help him and succeed in my future. That is why I worked hard in my lessons and did my homework one day before it was due. The teachers used a stick to beat and discipline the students who neglected the homework and this frightened me. I was avoiding and avoiding the teacher’s punishment. At that time, the teachers and students loved me for my diligence in studying and completing the homework in a timely manner.

After I finished primary school, I felt that I had built a good character and I received the respect of teachers and students. They honored me with a box of dates as a gift and I took them and ate them in the evening with my parents, brothers, and sisters. My mother said to me, ”Saad, you are very clever, you did not disappoint me and I pray to God to protect you.” At that time, our house was small and not big enough for us. It was difficult for us to buy a house due to our poor financial situation, but my father decided to sell our small house and buy land in the city of Al-Ghadir in New Baghdad and set up a tent where we lived.

In the meantime, I started middle school for boys,called Al-Jamahir Intermediate School for Boys. When I came back from school, I would first do the homework and then help the workers who were building our house. It took 3 years to build our house, and during that time I completed the intermediate school successfully and graduated with a very good degree. Here, at the end of the school year and completing the construction of our house, I felt happy, as I made an academic effort for a better future for myself, as well as in order to help my father pay off the mortgage loan.

After school vacation, I went to study at the upper secondary school called Ibn Rushd Preparatory School for Boys, located in New Baghdad, which was about the same distance from our house as my current home is from the Adult Learning Center. My studies began and here I felt that my father was burdened with debts. To save money, I decided to go to school on foot. I had to leave our house an hour before the start of school. In addition, I decided not to buy food from school. My mother used to put barley bread in my school bag to stave off my hunger. After graduating from high school successfully with a very good degree, I rejoiced. My father, mother, sisters and brothers were happy. We gathered around a special dinner at home to celebrate. Then, after that, I went to study at the Air Force Academy and here began another story.