등불 아래, 잊힌 속삭임

추석chuseok 저녁jeonyeok, 고향gohyang 마을maeul의ui 좁은jop-eun 골목golmok은eun 붉은bulg-eun 등불deungbul로ro 물들어muldeul-eo 있었다isseotda.ⓘOn Chuseok evening, the narrow alleys of my hometown village were dyed with red lanterns. 할머니halmeoni 댁daek 마당madang에서eseo 나는naneun 어린eorin 시절sijeol처럼cheoreom 등deung에e 불을bul-eul 붙이며buchimyeo 조심스레josimseure 물었다mureotda.ⓘIn my grandmother's courtyard, I asked carefully while lighting the lanterns just as I did in childhood. “할머니halmeoni, 왜wae 우리uri 집jip 등불deungbul에는eneun 항상hangsang ‘忘mang’ 자가jaga 새겨져saegyeojyeo 있는inneun 거예요geoyeyo?”ⓘ“Grandma, why is the character ‘忘’ (forget) always engraved on our family’s lanterns?”

할머니halmeoni는neun 조용히joyonghi 웃으시며useusimyeo 오래된oraedoen 목함mokham을eul 꺼내셨다kkeonaesyeotda.ⓘGrandmother smiled quietly and took out an old wooden box. 그geu 안에는aneneun 일제강점기iljegangjeomgi 때ttae 할아버지harabeoji가ga 몰래mollae 적은jeogeun 일기장ilgijang이i 있었는데isseotneunde, 마지막majimak 장jang에는eneun 이렇게ireoke 적혀jeokhyeo 있었다isseotda.ⓘInside was a diary that Grandfather had secretly written during the Japanese colonial period, and on the last page it said this. “등불deungbul이i 꺼지지kkeojiji 않도록anatdorok 지켜라jikyera.ⓘ“Protect the lantern so it never goes out. 그geu 속에soge 우리uri 조상josang의ui 잊힌ijhin 이야기iyagi가ga 살아sara 숨sum 쉬고swigo 있으니isseuni.””ⓘBecause within it, the forgotten stories of our ancestors are still breathing.”

그날geunal 밤bam, 나는naneun 처음으로cheoeumeuro 우리uri 가문gamun의ui 등불deungbul이i 단순한dansunhan 장식jangsik이i 아니라anira, 잊혀서는ijhyeoseoneun 안an 될doel 기억gieok을eul 지키는jikineun 살아sara 있는inneun 증인jeungin이라는iraneun 사실sasil을eul 깨달았다kkaedaratda.ⓘThat night, I realized for the first time that our family’s lanterns were not mere decorations, but living witnesses protecting memories that must never be forgotten.