Water, Shelter, and Love

The sun hasn’t even risen over Seoul, Korea, but Hwang Hyon Ook is awake. He’s making his daily trip from a mountain spring, toting ten gallons of fresh spring water. Before anyone else arrives, he places the water at the annex of the Seoul Korea Temple, anonymously providing fresh spring water for temple workers and patrons. He asks no thanks, and few people know of his labors.

Near the main entrance of the temple is an umbrella rack with a supply of umbrellas. In a land of frequent, unexpected rains, umbrellas are almost a necessity. Many of the umbrellas are tagged with a label inviting patrons to use them if they’re caught at the temple in a storm. Again, the grateful beneficiary never sees the man who gathers discarded and broken umbrellas—taking a stem from one, material from another, and restructuring them into workable protection from the storm.

Yet many patrons do recognize Brother Hwang as the man who is eager to help visitors to Seoul, giving directions in broken English or Japanese to various sites. Especially aware of patrons from other countries, Brother Hwang often invites visitors to his sukso, where his lovely wife, Lee Kyong Ki, prepares delectable Korean fare. On Brother Hwang’s desk is a thick journal, full of notes, letters, and pictures reminding him of many newfound temple friends.

At the temple, says Brother Hwang, these patrons get a “good feel of the house of God. They never forget.”

And many remember Brother Hwang as well, who explains his philosophy in simple words: “Don’t love by mouth. Love by behave.”—Clare Judy, Seoul, Korea