I still remember vividly the fair face of Steven on the first day of my teaching ministry at the Korean Bible Church in Dallas. It was a beautiful September Sunday in 1983. He was a small elementary school boy at that time, a fine-looking boy with adorable attitudes and manners -- not too noisy or reserved, not too bossy or cowardly, not too distracted (which is normal for boys that age) or indifferent but ready to pay attention when prompted and willing to cooperate when asked. He was the kind of boy you cannot hate, find hard not to favor, and tend to remember for a long time even after he's gone away from your life. It was not unusual, therefore, that I've been able to keep connected with him, albeit on and off, for the past 20 years. Somehow our relationship has not ceased or faded, but instead we grew fond of each other more and more as years went by. In retrospect, Steven has been as much a teacher to me as my beloved student. He introduced me to this impressive musical instrument called a bassoon. Oh, how did I enjoy him playing that wonderful, low husky-toned instrument!

I can hardly wait until I see him again, playing bassoon in perfect harmony, with the angelic orchestra praising the Lord day and night along with all the other saints in heaven. His short but substantial life will remind me of the real value of life, which does not rest on its longevity in this world but on its quality which only the Lord can grant to those who, like Steven, trust Him totally despite the adversities. I praise God for putting Steven to the eternal rest now, and for the blessed hope that sooner or later we will meet him again in heaven where there will be no more cancer, pain, tears or separation, but eternal reunion in unfathomable joy and bliss. Sleep well Steven, and see you again soon!

-Min-Young Jung

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