Gift of Coal Briquette

By Lim Young-ae

Many years ago, in my 20s, I was working for a high school in Gimpo, Gyeonggi Province. As my residence was pretty far away from there, I rented a house near the school and stayed in Gimpo during the weekdays. After work I would spend time practicing the piano in the music room of the school. I also took a lesson twice a week in Segi Jazz Institute in Jong-no, downtown Seoul.

The music room, about 100 meters away from the main school building, was surrounded by beautiful tall old trees and flowers from spring to autumn.

One late autumn day, I was practicing a few songs including ``Anything That`s Part of You'' and ``The Poet and I'' for the lesson the next day. After playing each song several times when I looked out of the window to enjoy the autumn scenery, I was astonished at the tens of curious eyes outside the window. They belonged to six or seven students in school uniform. I was both embarrassed by and sorry for them. My performance was not good enough to appreciate. Besides, I had been playing the same music repeatedly to prepare for the lesson.

I invited them in and played several songs familiar to me. At first they were shy but soon after they seemed to enjoy my performance. Some of them even asked me to play their favorite popular songs and they sang along together while I was playing.

This was the moment when my ``Little Concert in the Forest'' was held for the first time. As time went by, the number of the ``audience'' increased day by day. Even though I was far from being a great pianist, I was showered with beautiful wild flowers from the young pure-spirited schoolchildren almost everyday.

One day, I had to skip the concert due to a bad cold and went to bed earlier than usual. When I was about to sleep somebody called me from outside. I was surprised to see some boys standing in front of the door with lanterns in hands.

Beom-je, the class president, was among them. He, a regular, politely asked me not to cancel today's performance saying,``I don't think I can sleep without listening to the song ``Anything That's Part of You. Please play the music for us now...''

At first, I thought that it was quite rude to ask me such a thing late at night. However, somehow I could not reject his request. His attitude was too serious and touching to refuse.

After hesitating for a while, I decided to act on their entreat and moved toward the music room, escorted by four young ``body guards.'' Thus, the unplanned event was finally held. Breaking the tranquility of the autumn night, while autumn leaves fell outside the window, the strange midnight concert continued in the music room.

A few weeks later, on a Sunday night, I returned to Gimpo after spending the weekend with my family in Incheon.

Although my landlady had lit a fire on ``yeontan'' (a cylinder of compressed coal) in the fireplace of my kitchen before I arrived, the air in my room was still very cold. When I was reading a book, cloaked in a warm sweater and thick blanket, somebody rang my doorbell. When I opened the door I saw a burning yeontan held by tongs in a boy's hand. He was none other than Beom-je! He must have noticed that I returned from Incheon due to the light from my window. He might have ascertained my harsh situation of a freezing room and rushed to my place holding the burning coal.

The scene reminded me of my worrying mom who was always concerned about my meals and security.

A poet said,

``Don't kick a spent yeontan thoughtlessly.

Have you ever burned yourself with passion for someone else like it?''

I am still wondering if the yeontan in his hand represented in his shy yet kindling mind like the evening glow or passionate love like a bonfire toward somebody. However, one clear thing was that, thanks to his burning coal, I was able to sleep like a baby that night.

This time of year I've repeatedly listened to various versions of the song ``Anything That's Part of You.'' Somehow I can't listen to that music without thinking of the boy named Beom-je with his lonely looking eyes through his glasses.

I wonder whether or not he still remembers that beautiful autumn whenever he listens to the song as I do.

They say that recently the consumption of yeontan has begun to increase owing to the economic recession. Living in an apartment in the city, most people might have almost forgotten the old- fashioned heating system.

Since it has been quite chilly these days I miss the days of my youth when people carried a burning coal to their loved ones. In those days it was not a mere heating device but a way of delivering their love as well.

There seem to be quite a few underprivileged people suffering from hardships nowadays. Adding insult to injury, the harsh and bone-chilling season has arrived. Hopefully, many people will be able deliver thoughts of ``warming coal'' to them and share this tough situation together.

The writer is an essayist and freelance English and Korean teacher. Her email address is annielim31@naver.com