Gathering of Pearls by Sook Nyul Choi Read Free Book Online Page A

airmail sheets and put them back in the envelope. I thought of my high school days, when I had faithfully visited my sister on the first Sunday of each month, the only time visitors were allowed. In the quiet, sunny sitting room, she would ask me about everything that happened at school and at home, and about everything going on in the neighborhood. She would speak of her calling and her work. She spoke with such feeling and conviction. I looked up to her. Everyone did. I listened to all the plans she had made for me. She spoke about how we would work side by side helping many people, comforting those in despair, and teaching young children. It all sounded fine then.
    But now, as I read her letter, she sounded very different to me. It was as if I had never known her. Her tone was so much less kind than Mother's. I wondered if my sister still loved me. She didn't seem to understand the difficulties of facing a new culture and language. Didn't she realize that I might be struggling to settle into college life and to keep pace in my classes? Mother understood without my ever saying a word.
    I didn't know what to think. Perhaps Theresa was right to be angry with me. She had asked me to tell her everything about my new life, and I had disobeyed her. I had neglected my duties as a younger sister. Perhaps I was being selfish, always busy with my own life and ignoring her wishes and needs. Was I becoming shallow? How could I be a good person when I had disappointed my own sister? Maybe I should have been honest about my struggles. But I hadn't wanted to worry Mother. I felt like such a failure.
    How foolish I had been even to think of stopping by a Friday mixer! I didn't have time for such things. My sister would be very disappointed to know that I was wasting my time in that way. I heard the dorm bell sound and realized I had been sitting in the post office for quite a while. Wiping my tears away, I quickly gathered my books and rose from the hard bench.

Chapter Seven
    From the large library window, I looked out at the maple tree, trembling against the gusts of November wind and surrendering its dry, brown leaves. Fall was almost over and I hadn't had a chance to take even one photo of the beautiful foliage.
    It was late. I gathered my books and headed toward the dorm, looking forward to hearing Ellen's cheerful voice. Blanketed in the shadow of trees, the brightly lit dorm was like a beacon. I rubbed my tired eyes. The endless hours of studying, the scholarship work, the responsibilities of being the only Korean student, and my worries over disappointing my family all overwhelmed me. I still had not answered my sister's letter, but her voice rang in my ears.
    When I rounded the corner toward my room, I saw Ellen in her powder pink bathrobe, satin slippers, and head of pink curlers, standing in the hallway saying good-bye to some friends. As soon as she spotted me, she rushed over. "Hi, stranger. Give me some of those books; I can't even see your face! You know, you're so rarely here that Kyle is beginning to think I've made you up. Why don't you come to this Friday's mixer and then come home with me for the weekend? Princeton is playing Dartmouth, and Kyle invited both of us. He wants you to meet his roommate, too. Princeton is only fifteen minutes away from my home, you know." She excitedly said all of this in one breath.
    "Oh, Ellen, thank you. I wish I could!" Ellen made it sound like so much fun, and like such an important aspect of college life. I wondered what it would be like to go to a mixer or to a football game. What was I missing?
    "Why not this time?" Ellen said, knitting her brows.
    "Well, some visitors from Europe are coming this weekend and the international student office asked me to show them around the campus. And I am more behind than ever on my reading."
    "Last time I asked you to come home with me, you had to speak to the Ladies Garden Club! You're a college student and need to enjoy college life. You're not a