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Authors: Alana Terry
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over my eldest son, Chul-Moo. He was prone to depression; he did not care for anything or anyone other than the Party and the People’s Army. I suspected he was drinking heavily, although I had no proof. Rumors of an illegitimate child were threatening his career advancement. Emboldened by Chung-Ho’s conversion, I finally decided that the time had come to share the gospel with my eldest son Chul-Moo as well.
“I fasted and prayed for several days and begged my youngest son, the only other Christian I knew, to do the same. One Sunday afternoon, I went over to Chul-Moo’s house as usual. ‘Chul-Moo,’ I told him, ‘I am your mother and I love you deeply, and now you are going to sit down and listen to what I have to tell you.’ And so I explained to Chul-Moo the gospel of salvation. Since I did not know how he would react to my words, I did not tell Chul-Moo that his grandparents were born of Western missionaries or that his younger brother was also a Christian.
“But Chul-Moo did not accept what I had to say. He told me that I was a Christian pig, and that even though I was his mother he was duty-bound to report me to the National Security Agency.”
“Your own son turned you in?” I gasped.
The Old Woman nodded and folded her hands in her lap. “Of course, Chul-Moo knew that he himself would also be arrested if he was found to be the son of a Christian. So before he betrayed me, he spoke to a superior officer, who at that time was preparing my son for a position in the Great Leader’s inner circle. Before my arrest, Chul-Moo was transferred to a detainment center along the Tumen River with new papers, a new job, and a new identity. It was a demotion, but he had done his duty to his nation while keeping himself out of prison camp.”
“But how could he have done something like that to you? To his own mother?”
“Things are not always what they seem, little daughter,” the Old Woman remarked. She stretched her arms and rubbed her shoulders and neck. “For years I mourned Chul-Moo’s betrayal, but I wept even more for his hardness toward the good news of Christ. Still, old as I may be, I am not the Lord God Almighty; I do not pretend to know his plans for Chul-Moo, which may yet be for good.”
“Were your husband and younger son arrested with you too?” I asked.
The Old Woman nodded. “After two months at Camp 22, my husband was offered release due to his impeccable record of service to the Party. The National Security Agency told him that he had to sign a statement of ideological conformity, which he did without second thought, but they also demanded that he divorce me.” The Old Woman raised her chin. “Even finding out that I was his enemy did not quench my husband’s love for me. He would not agree to the Agency’s terms. He worked another two months in the Chongbung mine, then the National Security Agency simply announced that our marriage was annulled and resettled him in another province.”
The Old Woman looked away from me. I had tried to find a way to ask the Old Woman about herself for months but always lacked the courage. Now her account did more to pique my curiosity than satiate it. Afraid that the Old Woman might grow too tired if I hesitated any longer, I cleared my throat.
“Honored Grandmother,” I began, trying to choose my words carefully, “you’ve explained to me how you ended up as a prisoner, but you still haven’t told me why they treat you so well here. Why do the guards fear you like they do? And what could you have possibly done to deserve solitary confinement for 23 years?”
The Old Woman sighed. “So many questions, little daughter.” With a quiet grunt, the Old Woman closed her eyes and leaned her back against the cell wall. I watched her silently, waiting for her to explain more of her history. But soon the Old Woman’s lips began moving in silent prayer. I finally realized with disappointment that I would have to wait even longer to find the answers
“I fasted and prayed for several days and begged my youngest son, the only other Christian I knew, to do the same. One Sunday afternoon, I went over to Chul-Moo’s house as usual. ‘Chul-Moo,’ I told him, ‘I am your mother and I love you deeply, and now you are going to sit down and listen to what I have to tell you.’ And so I explained to Chul-Moo the gospel of salvation. Since I did not know how he would react to my words, I did not tell Chul-Moo that his grandparents were born of Western missionaries or that his younger brother was also a Christian.
“But Chul-Moo did not accept what I had to say. He told me that I was a Christian pig, and that even though I was his mother he was duty-bound to report me to the National Security Agency.”
“Your own son turned you in?” I gasped.
The Old Woman nodded and folded her hands in her lap. “Of course, Chul-Moo knew that he himself would also be arrested if he was found to be the son of a Christian. So before he betrayed me, he spoke to a superior officer, who at that time was preparing my son for a position in the Great Leader’s inner circle. Before my arrest, Chul-Moo was transferred to a detainment center along the Tumen River with new papers, a new job, and a new identity. It was a demotion, but he had done his duty to his nation while keeping himself out of prison camp.”
“But how could he have done something like that to you? To his own mother?”
“Things are not always what they seem, little daughter,” the Old Woman remarked. She stretched her arms and rubbed her shoulders and neck. “For years I mourned Chul-Moo’s betrayal, but I wept even more for his hardness toward the good news of Christ. Still, old as I may be, I am not the Lord God Almighty; I do not pretend to know his plans for Chul-Moo, which may yet be for good.”
“Were your husband and younger son arrested with you too?” I asked.
The Old Woman nodded. “After two months at Camp 22, my husband was offered release due to his impeccable record of service to the Party. The National Security Agency told him that he had to sign a statement of ideological conformity, which he did without second thought, but they also demanded that he divorce me.” The Old Woman raised her chin. “Even finding out that I was his enemy did not quench my husband’s love for me. He would not agree to the Agency’s terms. He worked another two months in the Chongbung mine, then the National Security Agency simply announced that our marriage was annulled and resettled him in another province.”
The Old Woman looked away from me. I had tried to find a way to ask the Old Woman about herself for months but always lacked the courage. Now her account did more to pique my curiosity than satiate it. Afraid that the Old Woman might grow too tired if I hesitated any longer, I cleared my throat.
“Honored Grandmother,” I began, trying to choose my words carefully, “you’ve explained to me how you ended up as a prisoner, but you still haven’t told me why they treat you so well here. Why do the guards fear you like they do? And what could you have possibly done to deserve solitary confinement for 23 years?”
The Old Woman sighed. “So many questions, little daughter.” With a quiet grunt, the Old Woman closed her eyes and leaned her back against the cell wall. I watched her silently, waiting for her to explain more of her history. But soon the Old Woman’s lips began moving in silent prayer. I finally realized with disappointment that I would have to wait even longer to find the answers
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