I brush my fingertip against his smooth forehead. Seeing the amount of black and blue and scars that cover his petite face, my heart shatters. He's just like his father. Crescent eyes, plump lips, and a short tempered personality exactly like his father. When they are angered, the natural instinct is to react with violence. Their hotheaded temper easily gets them into trouble. But, he has his father's kind and generous heart, which people take advantage of often. Both are innocent fools. My beautiful innocent fools...

I remember the moment this little boy arrived at my apartment when he was only 3. A social worker escorted him to me. When I opened the door, I saw a child with lost eyes. As beautiful as the dark, brown orbs may be, it hinted the age that was beyond what this boy is. His clothes were stained, ripped, and torn. At the corner of his lips craved a newly inflected cut and his left cheek was bruised. It wasn't hard to tell that this child was horribly abused. The moment the social worker left, he wouldn't allow me to to go near him. He sat at the corner, trying to curl himself into a ball to protect himself. I ran him a bath and tried to get him to go into the tub. He followed and that was the only time he allowed me to wash him and tend his wound. After that, he went back to the corner without a word. I asked him what he would like to eat. He responded with silence. I left rice, kimchi, and some chicken on the table. While I sat at the sofa in front of him, he did not budge. As soon as I walked out of the living room and hid behind a wall, he glanced at the food and got up to begin to eat. At night, he wouldn't go to the room i prepared for him, so I gave him a soft pillow and a blanket. He slept at the corner. This repeated for one month until the night when he finally broke down. He must have woken with a bad dream. He bawled and cried, asking for his father. I rushed to embrace him, but he clawed at my skin and pulled at my hair. Surpassing the physical pain, I felt the immense heartache for this poor child. He fell asleep like that. I patted his small back and carried him to my room to sleep next to me. I held him like an infant. His head snuggled against the crook of my neck. I grasp his tiny hand with one hand and rubbed his delicate head and back with the other. When I woke up the next morning, he was back at his corner again. I felt heartbroken, thinking that perhaps I gained his trust. However, for another 2 months, he slept on the same bed with me as I cradle him in my arms. He started eating in front of me.

One morning, I sat next to him as he ate his mash potatoes with gravy and smiled, "Is it tasty?"

Gazing at me with his lonely dark eyes, he finally responded in a small voice, "I like it."

With his response, I felt the pride of a mother. I grinned at him, "Can you tell me your name?"

Looking down at his empty bowl, he whispered, "Yonggi."

I nodded with approval. "My name is Yunmi."

That moment of silence, I noticed his tiny lips curled upwards in a small, sincere smile. I realized that was the moment where we officially bond. I was right. After a long, awkward year, he appeared more joyful that the revenging look in his eyes diminished to my joy. He gave me a wonderful nickname- "Yunmi mama". Now, it's Yunmi omma this, Yunmi omma that. Sometimes I can't even keep up with his excitement and curiosity.Yonggi's a helpful kid. He goes out of his way to make me feel proud of him. From taking out trash to attempting to wash the dishes, he tries them all. I feel so blessed to have this kid in my life.

Yonggi is 7 years old now, a handsome lad. He picks fights with other kids who make fun of him for only having a mother. Many mothers whispering about my immaturity to have a kid while I was young, and even worst, without a father for the child. We slowly endure these pressures and ugliness of our lives, in which each other is the only reason to feel joy.

I am a small book and cafe owner. I use to have a part-time job at a bakery, but that changed after Yonggi entered my life. I started a small business that's busy on the weekends since many local students study there. It's like a library, book store, and cafe combined. Yonggi learned his alphabet, reading, and writing there. He became immediately fascinated by books after I introduced him to the wonder of words.

I stand at the gate of Yonggi's elementary school. I could feel the other mother's envious stare and gazes. Shiny jewlery dangled down their necks and wrists. Their face are caked with so much makeup, they must have weighed 5 pounds less when they took it off. They wore expensive clothes and carried the trendiest bags. At times, their appearances make me wonder if I dressed too casual. 

"Look at her baggy sweats. She looks like a college student."

"She's wearing no makeup."

"Where's she going to find a man while looking like this?"

"No wonder why her child's father left her."

"I wouldn't want her son to even get near my son."

Whispers like these constantly cloud the air. If I dressed more elegantly, I'll be deemed as a "", if I dressed causally, I'm "immature". I cleared my throat. "Ahjumma, kindly speaking, I just recently graduated from college and earned my degree." I grin at them, mockingly. I made sure to emphasized on the word "Ahjumma", putting a frown on their wrinkly face.

"Oh, how old might you be, Dana?" One of them questions. They probably thought I was lying. Tsk, typical oldies. 

"I'm 24." I smile. They have every right to be jealous of me. My son's the most intelligent student in his grade, I'm young, I'm living the carefree life, and I'm not a housewife. Who says you need a man? I am an independent woman.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Yunmi-ssi?"

"No, I'm not planning to get one until Yonggi gets to middle school." This is the longest conversation I've had with them and I dreaded every moment of it.

As soon as another one of them tries to approach me with more questions, Yonggi comes to my rescue. "Yunmi omma!" He shouts happily as he runs into my embrace. Never have I been even more glad to see him. I hug him tight. At times, he needs a ressuring act of love, showing them that I love him more than anything.

"Hey, kiddo, how's school?" I smile at him. I always use a friendly tone with him. It always makes him feel more easygoing and less pressured. Anyone could tell that he's not a normal kid, but I never let that identify his personality and character as it never identified mine.

"It was amazing! I got an A plus on my exam!" He grins his gummy smile and shows me his test results.

"The one you studied so hard for?"

"Yeah! It paid off!"

I pat his small head and gave him a thumbs up. We walk in synch away from the gate, as we felt the intense stare from the old ladies who need to move on. I took him to his favorite ice cream shop. He orders the usual—a creamy chocolate on a waffle cone. You can tell that this boy sticks to one thing, one person, and one objective. It was a cool spring day. Just the right weather for a small walk in the park. And that's where I took Yonggi to, without knowing that it might've been the worst and irresistible decision I've ever made.