I was only six-years-old when I first stepped into the foyer of the luxurious Park Mansion.  I held my mother’s hand as I stood in the warmth of the spacious entrance, peeking behind her tall frame as we stood before the doorman, drenched in the December snow. It’d been only two days before christmas and my mother was desperately searching for employment as my father tried to make both ends meet with his seasonal construction job in Seoul. My mother worked as a part-time waitress, only working a mere four hours every other day and had just gotten laid off since winter hours were unbearably slow. My brother, Junsu and I were simply too young to even work, although we tried our best not to be burdens as we watched our parents struggle.

I felt the cold, tired fingers of my mother squeeze mine reassuringly as she silently argued with the doorman in whispered tones. “Please, I’ll do anything. I can clean, I can cook, I’m willing to do anything. I’ll do anything,” my mother pleaded helplessly with the tall doorman who wore a grim expression.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but I cannot help you. As you can see, I am only a doorman here. I cannot help you, please leave before I get in trouble,” the man pleaded back, fear in his eyes.

As my mother prepared to plead once more, a booming voice from the gargantuan staircase echoed through white walls. “What is going on, Dongu? Who is that?”

A woman who looked like she was in her late 60’s dressed in a knit sweater-dress that hugged her slim figure, emerged from the top steps of the beautiful cascading staircase that led to the grand foyer. I squished myself even closer to my mother’s leg as I watched the woman make her way down each step, her narrowed eyes focused on my mother and I.

“C-Chairman Kim, I’m sorry for the intrusion. They were just on their way out,” the man struggled to get his words out at the presence of the old woman.

My mother’s helpless eyes grew big and she pleaded with the woman who finally stood before us. Her dark hair accentuated the deep brown color of her eyes, which made contact with my own pleading eyes.

“Please, madam, I’m a mother who needs to feed two children. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll be a maid, I can be a cook, I can be anything you’d like me to be. Please, it’s nearly Christmas and my family and I have nowhere to go.”

My heart broke as my mother relayed our family’s situation to the old woman. She stared back at us with sympathy in her eyes and she looked at me for what seemed like the longest five seconds of my life. My six-year-old self couldn’t stand the silence and stepped forward, taking the old woman’s hand with my own tiny hand, agony in my eyes now. My tiny fingers shook around her wrinkled fingers and with a whisper through my frozen lips I managed to whisper, “Please.”

She looked down and stared straight into my eyes and my dark brown hair.  Pity and sorrow was evident in her eyes as she wore a sad expression. She the dark strands of my long hair before turning to the doorman.

“Get them settled into one of the rooms in the basement. Little ones like her don’t need to go through this at such a young age,” she murmured.

That was when I knew, as I felt the softest pat of reassurance on my little shoulder, that this woman just gave me a home.

-

Twelve years later

Walking as fast as I possibly could, I gripped the tray of probably the world’s most expensive and finest tea as tight as I possibly could, as if my life depended on it. I frantically widen my steps, praying my clumsy feet wouldn’t let me down just this once. I drew out fast breaths as I tried my utmost best to make it to the west wing of the massive Park Mansion with the last few seconds I had remaining before noon rolled in..

God dammit, Yuri, you’ve been doing this for years, yet you always find yourself in this exact situation every day. Why are you late today of all days?!

The tiny silverware on the tray rattle as I abruptly come to a stop in front of the colossal french doors of Lady Kim’s master bedroom. I heave a sigh of relief as I glance at the watch which adorned my tiny wrist.

“12:02, only two minutes late,” I whisper in satisfaction, as if it were an accomplishment. Smiling widely, I daringly balance the tray on one hand, as I wrap my fingers around the cold metal of the door knob and turn. You see, I say the word daringly, because, I, Kim Yuri, don’t exactly have a perfect record of being graceful. This fact is simply supported by the horrifying scene of the tray of tea slipping from my hand and hitting the ground as I open the door.

“What a grand entrance, I must say.”

Lady Kim’s amused voice barely interrupts my equally horrified thoughts. The chairman sat at her desk, in front of the huge window which brought most of the light in her room. She was dressed in a casual lavender sweater that loosely splayed over her upper body while a pair of fitted khaki pants adorned her slim legs. For an 80-year-old woman, Lady Kim dressed very youthful and bright.

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