The all-night snowfall had cleared up by Christmas Eve morning.

In haste, I arrived early at Hanbit Orphanage, two hours away from Seoul. The director and vice director came to meet me in the parking lot, having heard the news.

“It’s an honor to meet you again, Mr. Kang Woo. Or should I say, CEO Cha now?”

The director smiled warmly at Kang Woo, reminiscing about the old times. His eyes and lips automatically curved when facing a benefactor.

Though grateful for the support, I wondered why such eyes and smiles were so rare for the orphans. Se Ah offered a strained smile.

“Se Ah, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? You’re doing well, married and living a good life, which makes me so proud. But why is it so hard to see your face? You don’t even respond to my calls.”

“I’ve been a bit busy.”

Se Ah subtly pushed away the director’s hand, which he extended in a friendly manner. Harsh words masked as discipline, once heard here, still echoed in her heart.

Staying up late chatting with the older girls, leaving food on the plate, the occasional argument with a friend, or throwing a tantrum for an extra piece of candy from the donated treats – even minor rule breaks were unforgivable to the director.

“I am the mother of over a hundred children. Those who break promises cannot stay here. For the sake of all, I must cast away even my own child.”

She fearlessly used the words most dreaded by the helpless orphans. Those who begged and cried in apology were punished under the guise of discipline, forced to sleep in the cold room.

Se Ah, too, had been sent to that frigid room for trivial reasons, sometimes even for others’ faults. The director didn’t care.

Proclaiming fairness, she forced reconciliation in that cold room, without sparing even a blanket.

Shivering on the bare floor all night, I profoundly learned that the director’s words must be followed.

Se Ah’s smile was forced, feeling repulsion at the director’s kindly facade. The vice director, standing a bit away, cautiously took Se Ah’s hand.

“Se Ah, it’s good to see you healthy. Thank you for coming with us.”

Tears welled in the vice director’s eyes, who then bowed to Kang Woo. Se Ah placed her hand over his.

“You’ve been well, too, Vice Director? I’m sorry for not keeping in touch often.”

“I was worried I might have burdened you unnecessarily. Just missing and curious about you, I wondered if you could come. Please, don’t send so many gifts in the future.”

“It was my husband’s wish.”

Se Ah’s polite reply brought a slight smile to Kang Woo’s lips. He wanted to lift Se Ah’s spirits, but as long as she was happy, that was enough.

Upon the director’s invitation for tea, we went to the director’s office.

Casual yet formal conversation ensued. Subtly, the director inquired if Kang Woo could make a donation. He readily agreed.

“Se Ah.”

Kang Woo called her during the conversation.

“Yes, Kang Woo?”

“We’ve come after so long, shouldn’t we greet the children? I have something to discuss with the director regarding the donation.”

“Okay.”

I couldn’t visit often, and had to return by evening. Agreeing with Kang Woo, Se Ah left first.

After her footsteps faded, Kang Woo looked alternately at the director and vice director.

“I have a request.”

“Please, go ahead, CEO Cha.”

The director put down his teacup, showing a forced smile. He was more respectful due to Kang Woo’s substantial support.

“I’d like to know about Se Ah’s birth.”

“…Ah.”

The director, looking troubled, glanced at the vice director, seemingly asking him to handle the situation.

“Does Se Ah want to find her parents?”

Kang Woo, observing, thought the vice director seemed more approachable for this conversation.

“I don’t know her wishes yet, but I thought of searching in advance, just in case.”

“That’s difficult. Even as a spouse… it’s the individual’s decision first.”

The director initially seemed to refuse, then glanced at Kang Woo.

“If she agrees, can we search?”

“That’s also difficult… In Se Ah’s case, she was entrusted to the church immediately after birth. The baby box… you’ve heard of it, right?”
The search’s start was fraught with pain, a notion reflected in Kang Woo’s slightly furrowed brow. A tightness was already forming around his diaphragm.

“Yes.”

“She was transferred from a temporary shelter to Hanbit Infant Home, and then ended up here.”

“Is it difficult to find someone in such cases? What about Se Ah’s name?”

“Se Ah’s name was established by the city due to her circumstances. Simply put, it’s a name created for birth registration purposes.”

Kang Woo was stunned by the director’s words. His eyebrows didn’t twitch, appearing angry to an onlooker. The vice director, who had been silent, now looked unsettled.

“So you’re saying there’s no record of her birthday or name.”

As the reality sank in, anger surged towards Se Ah’s unknown parents.

Why does it feel like a beggar’s plight from the start? Kang Woo thought, hiding his dejection.