SEOUL, Nov 4, 2006 - A 10 year-old North Korean refugee boy hiding in China, made a sobering decision that was light years away from what most other elementary 4th graders are preoccupied with–a life-and-death gamble to cross the China-Mongolian border under the cover of darkness.

His name was Yoo Chul Min and his decision resulted in a heart-rending tragedy. Joining five other North Koreans, also desperate for even a fleeting glimpse of freedom, Chul Min and his companions became disoriented for 26 hours in the arid, desert-like conditions of the Mongolian frontier. Years of gradual malnutrition in North Korea had weakened Yoo Chul Min’s body and the normal reserve of endurance and resistance to the elements one would expect of a healthy preteen boy were sadly lacking. Yoo Chul Min died from exhaustion and exposure. His body was carried across the Mongolian border by the remaining refugee team when they finally gained their bearings.

Perhaps I’ve taken a particular interest in this story because it so happened that Chul Min and my paths crossed in the course of my work in Helping Hands Korea. I had met and just begun getting to know this 10 year-old on two occasions, shortly before his death, this year. At the time, he was under the protection of courageous Korean missionaries in the Yenbian (ethnic Chinese-Korean region) district of northeast China.

I remember noticing how withdrawn this boy was. Because he had lived in China for over a year, he did not immediately strike me as malnourished and his clothes were clean. I noticed with some amusement that he would never take off his baseball cap, even inside the house of my friend. My curiosity grew into a little personal challenge to spend some time with him and see if I could find a way to break through that shell of suspicion of foreigners and get a friendship started.

I was told by those caring for him that Chul Min was very studious and doing well in a Chinese elementary school. One day in June of this year, I happened to spot on the missionary’s bookshelf the Korean version of a book that I had read countless times with my own five children, in English, as they were growing up, The Picture Bible. Despite his initial reluctance to sit down next to a dreaded American, Chul Min’s curiosity about the book seemed to get the upper hand, and soon we were leafing through the wonderfully illustrated volume together and he was eagerly reading the Korean text aloud. It became the bridge for what I hoped would be a real friendship. Little did I realize at that time, that death was only a month away for my little newfound friend.

In the days that followed the jarring news of Chul Min’s sudden death, despite our urgent entreaties, the security officials in Mongolia did not agree to wait for Chul Min’s father, himself a recent arrival to the South from China, to arrive in Ulan Bator to identify his son’s body and to be present at his burial. (The photo to the right shows Chul Min’s father shortly after coming upon his son’s grave located near the Sino-Mongolian border on the edge of the Gobi Desert.)

Perhaps the story of Yoo Chul Min has crossed my mind once again in late autumn 2006 as yet another bitterly cold winter approaches North Korea, northeast China and the Mongolian border. Maybe this is a good time to ask the good readers of Chosun Journal to join us in our ongoing quest to prevent the loss of other precious lives like Yoo Chul Min.

For practical ways to get involved, please refer to: http://www.helpinghandskorea.org/howtohelp.htm

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 4th, 2006 and is filed under Rev. Tim Peter's Column. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.