I remember the day I was born.
Was it a blessing from the heavens?
My brain was mature enough from the very moment of birth to accept what my eyes perceived as reality, and at the entrance to the world, I became aware of that fact.
A sharp light suddenly poured down over my closed eyes.
Having received nutrients and oxygen through the umbilical cord, the respiratory system I had never once used in my life failed to function properly.
I began to suffocate. My chest felt tight.
Smack—
"Waaahhh!"
I tried to endure it, but the stinging pain I felt on my buttocks left me no choice but to cry. Thanks to that, along with my wailing, the air I was experiencing for the first time wrapped stickily around my throat and flowed into my lungs.
"Congratulations. A healthy baby!"
Someone who was surely the source of my pain beamed brightly as they showed me to my mother. In my mother's tearful gaze as she looked at me, I could keenly feel her love for me.
My mother took me with trembling hands and held me in her arms.
My body reacted before my mind.
Smell, and then touch.
I think I felt a sense of relief from that familiar scent and warmth.
And then, my crying stopped.
"Oh my! Honey, look at this!"
At my mother's excited voice, my father makes a deeply moved expression.
"Yeah… that's amazing. Don't tell me—can the baby recognize her mother?"
It was the very first day I was born into this world.
"Mommy! When is Daddy coming?"
As soon as my first birthday passed, I was able to speak in complete sentences.
"He got off work. He'll be home soon."
Sssss—
My mother answers while stir-frying the meat I like on the pan.
It was my favorite time of day.
As the sun began to set, a crimson-stained glow seeped past the cliff at the edge of the yard beyond the window. Like paint dissolved into water, the vivid, natural colors looked endlessly beautiful and mysterious to my young eyes.
A gentle breeze brushed quietly through the open window. The smell of sizzling beef was drawn in by it and mixed together.
Even now, I miss this time so much it brings tears to my eyes.
"Smells yummy."
I toddle over on my small, unsteady feet and hug my mother's leg.
"Oh my! Our Seoha, are you hungryyyy?"
My mother turns around and beams at me with a bright smile.
If I told anyone, they would surely call it a lie, so I never once spoke of it—but for me, the scenes from this time remain as vividly clear as photographs.
***
By the time I turned two, no one had taught me, yet I could already read. It was thanks to the Hangul study sheets my mother had posted on the wall and the picture books she read to me.
"Alright, today let's read 'Puppy Pungpung'!"
My mother sat me on her lap and opened the book.
My father leaned back against a pillow beside us, watching with a relaxed posture and a pleased smile.
My mother's finger moved slowly along the letters.
"Today again, Pungpung let out a pororong fart."
My mother's gentle, tender voice.
Before the pictures, my gaze was drawn to the words.
Before she could finish reading one paragraph, I began reading the next.
"But that's okay. Farts mean our bodies are working hard."
My mother's eyes widened. Then she looked at me with a smile crinkling her eyes.
"Oh? Did I read to you too much? Have you already memorized it all?"
Instead of answering, I continued reading the next line.
"It smelled, but Mama Dog hugged Pungpung tightly. Pungpung liked Mama's arms the best."
Slip—
At some point, my father quietly stood up. He moved over to the bookshelf and began searching for another book. Soon, having found something suitable, he brought it over to me.
"Then… do you think you can read this too?"
It was a cover I had never seen before.
"Eek!"
The picture of a smiling monster was scary, but I took the book anyway, turned the cover, and began to read.
"Long, long ago, beyond a great mountain, there was a goblin village."
When I began reading the text clearly and carefully, my mother and father flinched in surprise.
"In that village lived a goblin who stole a person's dreams once a day."
The more I read, the more serious their expressions became.
"My goodness. He's really reading it. Is our child a genius? Honey, this is amazing, right?"
My mother covered her mouth with her hand, her gaze darting back and forth between me and the book.
"To think a child like this could come from parents like us…"
My father held me in his arms and remained silent for a long while.
At that moment, my chest felt ticklish, strange. I didn't understand why my parents were so surprised, but I could feel that everyone became happy when I read a book.
From the next day on, new things began appearing on the walls of my room, one by one.
At first, they were simple number charts and basic arithmetic.
"One plus one is?
Ailo."
Playing with numbers together with my mother was fun.
Whenever I gave the right answer, she would hug me tightly and bounce around, so happy she didn't know what to do.
Sheets of paper covered in colorful drawings and numbers went up on the walls, followed by multiplication tables, the English alphabet, various constellations floating in the sky, and even a days-of-the-week chart.
"Seoha, what day is it today?"
"Thursday!"
"Oh my, well done, my baby!"
Every morning, my mother would point at the days-of-the-week board on the wall and quiz me, and whenever I got it right, she'd pat my bottom and praise me with obvious pride.
Happy to be praised, I spent my days staring at the posters on the walls. But that pleasure was short-lived—before long, they came to mean little more to me than boredom.
Me-aam, me-aam.
In late summer, the couple sat on the wooden porch, eating watermelon to cool off from the heat.
Their son, Seoha, ran around the yard laughing brightly before settling into a corner, squatting down and carefully observing ants.
Cheolho was worried. The child who used to love books so much seemed lately interested only in other things.
"Honey, Seoha hasn't really been studying much these days, has he?"
At her husband's words, Miyoung nodded absentmindedly.
"Maybe you're right."
She had thought he was a genius—had that just been a parent seeing their own child through rose-colored glasses? She regretted not being able to spend much time with her son lately because she'd been so busy.
"Hm. I wonder why."
Seeing the concern on Cheolho's face, Miyoung let out a small laugh.
"He already knows everything. None of it's interesting to him anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"We took down the stuff on the walls a long time ago. He's memorized all the picture books. As for addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division—he does four-digit calculations in his head."
"Really?"
Four-digit mental arithmetic?
"That wouldn't be easy even for adults…"
"Yeah. But I've been wondering whether it's really right to teach things like fractions to a child who isn't even four yet. I was actually thinking of talking it over with you."
The brief joy of realizing their son really was a genius quickly faded. Cheolho found himself sharing the same concern as Miyoung.
"When do kids usually learn fractions? Around fourth grade in elementary school? That means he'd have to be well past ten years old…"
"Still, I don't think it's good for a child to have nothing to do and just play around. Let's at least give him something to read."
At Cheolho's words, Miyoung nodded.
"I feel the same. I don't want to force him, but parents shouldn't block the path of a smart child. Still… I think things are fine as they are right now."
After crouching for a long time, Seoha suddenly assumed an awkward, lizard-like posture and carefully crawled toward the porch on all fours.
"What's he doing now?"
"He's worried he might step on the ants if he doesn't watch them. He always moves like that near an anthill. He's our son, but he's gentle by nature."
Seoha's innocent figure was so cute and lovable that Miyoung didn't want to force any changes into their lives. A child playing like a child couldn't possibly be wrong, she thought.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Miyoung beckoned to Seoha.
"Come here! Let's eat some watermelon!"
Seoha jumped up with a bright smile.
"Watermelon!"
After carefully standing up, he came charging toward her, and the sight of her son running at her was adorable.
From that day on, a luxurious full set of encyclopedias took its place in Seoha's room.
Cheolho had personally consulted multiple publishers before choosing the collection—a classic with over two hundred years of history. In particular, the scientific sections, to which world-renowned scholars Albert Einstein and Carl Sagan had directly contributed, were outstanding enough to stand apart from any other encyclopedia.
Despite the large expense in their already tight household budget, there wasn't a trace of regret on the couple's faces. That was because instead of playing in the yard, Seoha had become completely absorbed in the new books.
Even his time spent watching ants changed dramatically.
"Mom, look at this! Ants walk in lines like this. They're following something called pheromones."
Miyoung blinked at the unfamiliar word that suddenly came out of Seoha's mouth.
"You read that in a book too?"
"Yeah! I always thought it was strange how they could find their way home from far away, but now I get it."
Miyoung let out a small laugh at Seoha's manner of speaking, so unlike his age.
She had worried whether a child would truly enjoy such thick encyclopedias, but it turned out to be a needless concern. Like parched ground drinking in a long-awaited rain, Seoha was absorbing knowledge voraciously.
At first, like most children his age, he became fascinated with dinosaurs. Gradually, however, his interests shifted to deeper subjects—the causes of dinosaur extinction, the conditions necessary for plants and animals to survive, and eventually the Earth and the solar system itself.
The couple watched Seoha engrossed in his books with contented smiles on their faces.