For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away. A time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace.
I loved the rain. My favorite thing is to just stand in it, and let it land on my face, dampen my hair, run down my body as it soaks through my clothes. The cool droplets always make me feel like I'm being cleansed of all my imperfections, all my sins, all my impure thoughts.
It was the rainy season in South Korea, and it was my favorite time of the year. It didn't last long enough, if you asked me. I would be happy if it rained every day. But I guess that wouldn't be good for the people that make their living outside, now would it?
My name is Lee Soo Ah. I'm 21. I live in a small apartment in Seoul, but I'm from Busan. My parents live and work in Busan, but I had to come to Seoul. I have a sister, Soo Mi, who's 10, she's just a kid. I love her so much, and I miss her terribly.
We talk on the phone almost every day. I haven't been back to visit in months. It's over 4 hours away, so it's hard to make the trip. I don't know when I'll get back to see my family, but I hope to one day soon.
I like Seoul. It's busy, always bustling with activity. It's hard to get bored here.
I looked out the window of my tiny apartment, watching the rain fall as the dark grey sky got lighter, the night giving way to the sleepy morning.
Others called this weather dismal. I never understood why people disliked the rain so much.
Without the rain, the flowers and trees wouldn't grow. The rivers and lakes would all dry up and the fish would die. The wildlife would have nothing to drink, or bathe in. The farmers crops would't florish.
There would be no mud puddles to splash in. There would be no need for polka dot umbrella's, or bright yellow rain coats. There would be no rainbows. There would be no sounds of pitter patters on the roof, no lightening flashing through the sky or thunder rumbling loud enough to shake the earth. There would be nothing to wash away the tears of sadness.
How could anyone not like the rain?
I got up from the single chair that was next to the small table in my little kitchen, and decided once again to go out into the rain. Why Not?
There was a park just up the block from my apartment. I usually went there when it rained, especially if it rained in the morning like it was now. There were never many people out and about, it being so early. But I liked coming to the park, because I enjoyed the aromas coming from the small coffee shop across the street. I could smell the freshly brewed coffee, and the sweet scent of cakes and cookies being baked.
I'd never gone in, but there was no particular reason why. Maybe because I always ended up soaking wet by the time they opened, and I didn't want to make a mess inside by tracking water all over. They'd surely not appreciate it much.
Instead, I stayed in the park, and watched people come and go, each time the door opened earning me a chance to breath deeply, taking in the wonderful smells coming from inside.
Maybe one day I'd go inside. But it would have to be a day when it wasn't raining. Because when it rained, inside was the last place I wanted to be.
I stood in the middle of the grassy circle surrounded by several benches, and looked up towards the sky. The rain landed on my face, and I kept my eyes closed, trying to count the drops as they hit my skin.
It was impossible, of course. But it was a game I like to play with myself. I was sure I'd never gotten past 3, always saying next time I'd make it to 5.
It started to rain a little harder, and I had to abandon my game for fear of drowning myself.
I giggled, and shivered, my clothes getting heavy as the rain soaked into them. It wasn't cold out, not at all. But the wetness enveloping my skin caused goosebumps to form, in turn making me shiver.
I wrapped my arms around myself, missing the hugs my little sister used to give me. I'd have to call her tomorrow. It had been two days since I'd last spoken to her. I'd been busy.
I moved to take a seat on one of the benches, watching an elderly lady walking by on the sidewalk under her umbrella, looking at me as if I'd just escaped the place where the crazy people live.
I wasn't crazy. Far from it. Being crazy might not be so bad. If I were crazy, maybe I could ignore all my troubles, and pretend they didn't exist.
Yes, I had troubles. But don't we all. I wasn't special. I didn't deserve to be trouble free any more than the next person did.
The trick to having troubles though, was whether or not you could learn to live with them. It was like being in a relationship, and having those few small things that always seemed to make your eye twitch, or your jaw clench, or your fingernails dig into the palm of your hand, just to remind yourself that no ones perfect, and to keep yourself from lashing out.
Troubles come and troubles go. But sometimes they move right in and make themselves at home. That was the kind of troubles I had. They had taken up permanent residence, and no matter how badly I wanted them to leave, they seemed intent on staying.
Sometimes, I couldn't help but to let those troubles get the best of me, and bring tears to my eyes. But that's where the rain came in. The rain can wash away your sadness.