Belated Thank You – I’ve been busy this week writing thank you letters to those people who brought or sent gifts for Andy’s birth. He’s two months old now but we’re still getting packages in the mail from friends we haven’t seen in years and family we haven’t even met. Some of the foreign church missionaries had planned a March, Saturday night baby shower for me, but the announcement wasn’t made in church until the day of the shower. Since we typically don’t go shopping on Saturday (our Biblical Sabbath) I received a whole 2 presents but we had a lot of fun with games and food. I could enjoy it and not feel hurt because we didn’t need the help financially and it’s not Korean style to have wedding nor baby showers; however, I wasn’t prepared for the outpouring of gifts given during visits to see the baby at the hospital and at home. The gifts count too, but for me, it’s the thought that count the most.

Koreans are generous people. I mentioned before how they usually give the royal treatment to foreigners (especially their teachers) but they are generous to each other also. Typically, Koreans are good at saving money (remember chonsae?) but will still splurge on gifts for family and friends. This article is not meant to make anybody feel bad that didn’t send a gift (your emails are my gift to speed my recovery) but to uplift and show appreciation to those that did.

Speaking of giving thanks, I have a long list of people I need to thank but I’ll limit it today to the angels of 1974. In the summer of 1974 I was 6 years old, in the laundry/utility room sweeping. I went to the closet for the dustpan and must have found an electrical wire of some kind. Since coming to America a year earlier I had discovered electricity and the wonders of electronic gadgets. I wondered what this one would do. I apparently plugged it in and the room went BOOM. My parents came running. There was a giant whole in the wall. The room was in shambles. I was on the floor bleeding and my left eye was in pieces and hanging out. I remember my mother screaming and wrapping me in a blanket while my father drove to look for help (we were illegal so he couldn’t drive to town on the highway and anyway, he didn’t know where the hospital was). Our boss was out that weekend so Dad drove to another neighbor’s ranch and the lady of the house was home. Together they came back and hurried me to the Boise City hospital. The doctors stabilized my blood loss but said they didn’t have the facilities to help me further with my eye and shrapnel imbedded in the left side of my body. I was hurried to Clayton. Before entering the town of Felt the neighbor lady that was driving us met her husband (they had communicated by CB) and he took over the rest of the way. In Clayton we heard the same answer, they couldn’t help me further. I was sent to Amarillo. A police escorted us (speeding) to Dalhart, where another patrolman took over. The troopers changed again in Dumas and this one took us all the way to Amarillo. I remember that I couldn’t see anymore. I had surgery to remove my left eye. I now wear a prosthesis (fake eye). They tried to remove as much shrapnel as possible but there is still some visible in my left hand and fingers.

The outpouring of love in the form of gifts was astounding from the Panhandle people that heard about me on the news or read it in the paper. Ya’ll gave so much to a little girl that you didn’t even know. You weren’t concerned about race or citizenship. You only cared that I was a human being. When we came from Mexico we only had the clothes on our back (Okay, Mom had a diaper bag for my 1-year-old brother, Fidel). We had no toys, Of course. Last year Time magazine printed a list of “the 100 Best Toys of The past 50 Years”. I had most of those toys, thanks to the generous people of Boise City and the surrounding communities. Those books and toys kept my siblings and my mind active and learning. We had numerous Little Golden Books, coloring books, crayons, Barbie dolls, paper dolls, a hair dressing doll, Slinky, Tinkertoys, wooden puzzles, teddy bears, a dollhouse with furniture, a tea set, a pink poodle piggybank, a beautiful pink parasol, Playdough, Raggedy Ann and Andy, Viewmaster, linking monkeys and many more.

A belated thank you to so many of you who gave in the form of prayer, gifts and other ways. Thanks to the schoolmates for not teasing me about my eye. A special thanks to the neighbors who drove me to the hospitals. Thanks to the police officers who guided us on the road. Of course, thanks to the doctors who saved my life. If you were one of my benefactors I’d like to know about it and I’d especially like to know the names of the people who drove me to the hospitals. I’m sure many of the givers were of that selfless, self-sacrificing “greatest generation” and may not be with us anymore. Please email me at: maggiechoi2@netscape.net or snailmail me at: Maggie Choi

Byeongjeomri Anhwa Maul 2 chan Unam Firstville 202-dong 501-ho

Hwaseong City, South Korea 445-988