I Didn't Catch You Name....

(I want to preface this week's story with the excitement of approaching my 3,000th blog site visitor! Thanks to all of you who read me regularly!)


Leaving Walmart, I was hungry. I decided a quick hamburger from the in-store McDonalds would do the trick. But then I reconsidered. That wouldn't do. The plan changed.


I’d go up the street one stop light to the one up Beach Blvd. But as I pulled out of the parking lot, I suddenly decided I should to go to the one four miles away – on the far side, two miles beyond home.

I know it sounds stupid. Why not just go to the closest one?! But I’ve learned over the years not to question. When I start getting those “you need to go here” feelings, it’s for a reason, so I try to always just go.  There is usually a reason for them.

Well the drive through line on Brookhurst was too long and I didn’t want to wait. But as I turned to leave for home, I decided instead to go inside. Surely the line was shorter and I could get it to go. (And I typically never EVER would go inside.) 

But then I decided to sit down to eat. Only one table was available, and I took it. Instead of sitting with my back to the only man at the other table (who was reading his newspaper), I uncharacteristically sat facing him.

As I finished my burger, he closed his newspaper, slid to the outer edge of the table and stood. Then he came over to show me a political cartoon in his paper.

This Korean gentleman, reading a Japanese newspaper, showing me a Greek cartoon - interesting. He pointed to the Japanese subtitle and read it to me.

I enjoy political cartoons, so I smiled at him and thanked him for showing it to me.

He said, “I saw you noticing me reading the newspaper. You are probably wondering why I am reading a Japanese newspaper.”

To be honest, busy at work in my own head, I’d only noticed a man and a newspaper. Nothing more. I didn’t think of it any further than that –

especially to wonder why he chose that particular paper to read.

But he continued to explain, yet again, the cartoon and the Japanese characters.

It was clear to me that wanted to talk, so I said, “Please, have a seat.”

He eagerly folded his paper – which had only been an excuse to talk, I am sure – and sat down. 

And for the next hour, he sat and told me his life story, while I listened.

He spoke somewhat haltingly at first, sometimes fishing for words in English. But as he talked, it came more easily.

Born to a poor family in Korea, he moved at an early age to China with his family for political reasons.

The Japanese had ruled Korea since 1910, and in 1937, they banned the Korean language, literature and culture. 

Refusing to become Japanese, his family left for China.

He had to learn Chinese and was often picked on – even beat up – by his Chinese counterparts. 

His parents eventually decided it would be smarter, more advantageous, to send him to Japanese school in China.

There, he was exposed to English – sort of... The extent of his English was their teaching of Shakespeare. Nobody in the class learned anything about the English language that way.

When word got out the government was looking for interpreters, he quickly applied (along with thousands of others) for a position. He spoke Korean and Chinese and Japanese as well (thanks to his parents’ forethought.)

He got a job translating, and was appointed to a West Pointe graduate who saw great potential in him. And soon was involved in Korean secret intelligence too. His English improved dramatically as he worked with his American boss from Tennessee.

In his spare time, he hung out at the news stand and cultural learning center trying to learn English by reading what English language papers he could. But it was extremely slow going.

A man there suggested he learn English the way the Americans taught it.

So he set out reading the likes of See Jane Run and Humpty Dumpty.

He slowly became a self-taught reader of the English language.

At the end of the war, he managed to get a visa to come study in the U.S.

His American boss got him a scholarship to a college in Washington state, which turned out to be an all-men’s Catholic college. And he couldn’t understand why the men all laughed at him when they first heard his spoken English.

Only much later did he appreciate the humor of a Korean man from China speaking English with a Tennessee drawl!

He went on to tell me of the real American dream of Asian immigrant men.

Yes, they all wanted a good education and then higher education and a good job and a nice home.

But the real goal was to find a blue-eyed, blonde haired wife!

And he continued to tell me about his awkward pursuit of his dream woman, and the sometimes hilarious twists and turns of their courtship with its cultural differences.

He told me about his great joy when he married this blue-eyed German-American love of his life, Nancy. And how he’d been happily married to her for forty years.

Only she had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Did I know anything about multiple sclerosis? (And here I felt a greater irony in our meeting.) It broke his heart when he had to put her in a nursing home because he could no longer care for her himself.

At this point, he seemed to finally become acutely aware of the late time and that he’d been talking for over an hour, and said he had to go.

We both went to refill our drinks before we left, and I couldn’t take the suspense. I cautiously approached the uncomfortable subject.

Whatever happened to the love of his life who had come down with MS? Was it long ago? Was she still alive? Was she gone now?

This eighty-year-old man hesitated and my heart plummeted, wishing I’d never asked. But then he smiled wistfully and then sighed. She is still alive. And he still goes twice a day to visit her and take care of her at the nearby nursing home. In fact, he had lost track of time talking to me and needed to head back for his afternoon/evening visit.

We walked out to the parking lot together and stood for another fifteen minutes while he got in his last chance to talk and be listened to intently – something sorely missing from his life, alone now without his beloved wife.

Then we parted ways. 

And I felt a loss as I pulled out of the parking lot. I wanted to go back and make an appointment to meet him another time to visit. To say, “I didn’t even catch your name…”

It wasn’t a coincidence that I had a sudden craving for McDonalds as I left Walmart. Nor that I thought of, and then decided against two other McDonalds before quitting the drive-through line to go inside and sit alone in this one. I was sent. I know. It happens often to me.

I was sent there.  I believe if you leave yourself open to the Lord's leading, he will send you where he needs you, when he needs you. Even it if's to sit for an hour or more in a grungy McDonalds and listen to the fascinating life story of a lonely Korean man who speaks Chinese and reads Greek political cartoons in a Japanese newspaper (with a Tennessee drawl!)

So I guess my thought for today is: open your heart. Listen to that little voice. And take the time to smile at a passer-by, or a stranger who approaches you to show you something in his newspaper. There is very likely a much deeper need that can readily be detected (and met) than if you hurry on by, lost in your own world.

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."
John 13:34,35

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ.
1 Peter 4:8-11