[Joseon Images] A Christmas story: The happiest girl in Korea

The happiest girl, Oak Pun-ie / Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

For many of us, 2020 is probably one of the worst years of our lives. We are bombarded with accounts of terrorism, horrendous accidents and, of course, COVID-19 in the media. Many have lost coworkers, friends and relatives to these horrors. With so much negativism surrounding us, perhaps it is time for an uplifting story from the past.

During the late 19th century, many Korean farmers lived in abject poverty and subsisted only upon the crops they were able to harvest each year. They had very little money but if they did manage to set some aside they were often quickly relieved of it by the gentry through unfair taxes.

Often the harvests failed and the farmers were unable to pay their taxes and lost everything. Famines often plagued the peninsula and horrid accounts of starvation pepper the correspondences and writings of Westerners living in or visiting the country at the time.

A group of Korean girls in the early 1900s / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

Some people, out of desperation, sold themselves or family members into a form of slavery. In the present, it is difficult to understand why anyone would choose to become a "nobi" (serf seems to be the more appropriate term although in the past they were referred to as slaves) but there was a degree of security exchanged for the loss of freedom. A nobi was fed, clothed and sheltered by his owner while a free person had to fend for himself.

Farmers harvest rice in the early 1900s. / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

Oak Pun-ie was born in 1892, probably somewhere in Gyeonggi Province near Seoul. Her family was extremely poor, most likely farmers. They tried to provide for Pun-ie and her younger siblings as best they could, but despite their best efforts, the children's lives were filled with hunger and cold. As time went by, the family's situation became more desperate until it probably climaxed in the great famine of 1901. Food was scarce ― the price of rice nearly doubled in June ― and to the distraught parents it soon became obvious that unless something drastic was done, they would all perish.

The parents, in great sorrow, sold Pun-ie to a wealthy family for a quantity of rice which they used to feed her siblings. Pun-ie became a nobi and never saw her family again.

It is tragic to note that slavery had already been abolished several times in the past. The last time that slavery was abolished was during the Gabo Reforms of 1894/5. According to resolution 9 "male and female slavery, whether private or official, was to be abolished." However, laws are useless unless enforced, and the law that was designed to protect Pun-ie failed her.

Pun-ie's life as a nobi was not a good one. Even though she was a small girl she was forced to work long hours in the elements, was fed too little and beaten often. This continued until the winter of 1905 when on one cold day her life changed. With little clothing, she had been exposed to the cold for hours and her hands and feet became frostbitten, yet she was given no medical attention. Days passed into weeks and the condition of her hands and feet grew worse. The pain intensified and eventually developed into gangrene, and though she tried, she was no longer able to work.

Blind students in the early 1900s / Robert Neff Collection

Her owners took her to a foreign hospital in Seoul and explained to her the foreign doctor would make her "well as soon as possible so that you can be of some use." The prognosis was bad, and the owners left her, no longer concerned about her fate. For eight months the young girl fought for her life, her days passed in fever-induced states of delirium broken only by the horrific pain in her limbs, or when she was anesthetized for surgery and able to sleep in relative comfort. Pun-ie often asked about her owners during her lucid moments but she was always told that they would not come back for her for a long time.

Pun-ie's final surgery was completed in September 1906. The gangrene had been so severe that the doctors had no other choice but to amputate both of her hands and one foot. For many months she was left to recuperate and become accustomed to her new life. Though she had only been a nobi in the eyes of many, to the Western doctors and nurses of the hospital she was an inspiration.

Miss Perry's school for the blind in Seoul, circa early 1900s / Robert Neff Collection

During the Christmas season of 1906, Pun-ie noticed Minerva Guthapfel (a nurse) writing a letter to her friends in the United States. Pun-ie asked the nurse to please include a greeting from her: "the happiest girl in Korea." Nurse Guthapfel could not believe this poor child could possibly think of herself as "the happiest girl in Korea," and asked her to explain why she felt that way.

Pun-ie gave six reasons. First, the doctors had taken away all of her pain. Second, she had not been beaten once since arriving at the hospital. Third, she no longer felt the pangs of intense hunger. Fourth, she was never going back to her owners but was instead to live the rest of her life in the hospital. Fifth, the small Christmas tree in the hospital was the first that she had ever seen, and she thought it was beautiful though it was nearly bare of ornaments. Finally, she had found religion and belief.

Over the next couple of years Pun-ie improved and always maintained her insistence that she was the happiest girl in Korea. People could not understand how she could remain so cheerful. One skeptical Korean woman even wondered why the doctors "didn't take the knife they used to cut off her hands, and put it through her heart." It would have saved "lots of trouble and lots of expense," she explained. The cold-hearted were unable to understand that Pun-ie had given something back in return ― she gave inspiration.

She became baptized and was no longer known as Oak Pun-ie but as Anna Song. She learned to write with a pencil tied to the stumps of her hands, and though it was a laborious process, she wrote letters to the nurses who had befriended her and returned to the United States. Her story soon became well-known and one American woman, whose daughter had recovered from a severe illness, sent a wheelchair to Korea for Anna's use. Anna also served as an interpreter for the hospital and reminded others that their pains and sorrows were not as bad as they believed. There is always hope.

After 1910, the story of Anna Song fades from history but she left us her legacy ― the ability to find goodness and hope even in a terrible situation. Hopefully 2021 will bring us relief.

Robert Neff is a historian and columnist for The Korea Times. He can be reached at robertneff04@gmail.com.