Our daily bread

Anyong, Lindsay here.

Well. It’s hot here. Mississippi hot. The kind of hot where you want to duck when you walk outside. The kind of hot where you feel like you are being smothered when you walk outside. So hot one co-teacher said we should not walk home in that. It’s just too hot.

I’ve entered into a constant state of lethargia. No this is not a word, but I think of it as something akin to dementia. But in this case, a common disease aggravated by heat, causing you to feel testy, sweaty, hot, lazy, drowsy, and/or sluggish.

And you’re especially in no mood for your husband to make snide comments like, I thought you looooooved the heat. I figured you would want to go home and sit on the roof.

Anyway, on this particular lethargic walk home, we passed by our bakery. You know the one we often mention. The one the very friendly Korean woman and her husband owns. The woman who always ushers us in, gives us free bread, and tries to speak Korean to us.

Well I don’t know if we mentioned it on here, but Korea’s Wal-Mart of bakeries–Tous Les Jour–has moved in up the street. We were not happy about this, as we love our mom and pop bakery and the incredibly kind people who own it. They even occasionally accept our packages for us when we are in school and hold them until we walk by. They even met Mom and Dad, and continued to ask about them weeks after they left.

We have been worried about Tour Les Jour’s influence on the small shop. We made a pact that we would not go there. Would not give them our business.

But, today, we walked by our bakery and the friendly woman inside ushered us in. For one last time. The shelves were half empty as they cleaned up shop. She grabbed a large sack, filling it with a loaf of corn bread (though not like the cornbread back home!), a large bag of sweet rolls, and two of our favorite after-school bread rolls.

What? What is happening? We already knew the answer.

She reached out her arms and hugged me first. Tight. And then Whit. And then gave us the bag of bread.

They are moving in 2 (days or hours or something? this part lost in translation as we know our Korean numbers, but not much of anything else) to a nearby neighborhood.

Our flour-caked guardian angels are moving. I am sad, but I rest in the hope that maybe some new foreigners to Korea will get them next and see how genuinely kind Koreans can be.


  1. Jessica says:

    I don’t even know them and it makes me sad!


  2. Brittany says:

    Seriously almost started crying. Okay, maybe not seriously but definitely almost. I hate when big bad chains take over.


  3. Michael says:

    Maybe you can burn the big bad chain down and they can come back.


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