The World is a Beautiful Place

Devil’s Daughter
by Vivian Lee
If God exists, he just might smite me for not going to church on Sundays. You might say that I am religiously
confused, stuck in the limbo between the principles of religion and reality. When I was younger, I
always wished I could say I was Catholic, or Jewish, or Buddhist. I remember when I was six years old, and
was asked by a fellow first grader what church I go to. All I could do was look up at my mom and silently
beg for an answer, and all I got was a disgruntled stare, forcing the words “We don’t go to church” out of
my unwilling lips.
It all stems from the contrasting backgrounds of my parents. My father’s side of the family is a passionate
bunch of devout Christians, ones that went to church every Sunday and sent their kids to Bible study. My
mother’s side, however, is full of nonreligious “heathens” who insist that religion is not a necessary institution
in life. I was created from the clashing of these heavyweight battering rams, an anomaly in a world
defined by religion and faith. When the children of these two unlikely families got married, ironically “in the
presence of God,” the believer was suddenly cut off from the heavens by the “devil” known as my mother.
Because of this identity crisis, I have often been looked down upon by friends of all races and all religions.
Oh, but how about those Koreans? Every Korean family in my area went to church, and every Korean
teenager in my school was in a Christian youth group where they praised the Lord every week or so. I, on
the other hand, spent my Sundays leisurely brunching with my parents at All-American diner. In the eyes of
many, we were not a typical Korean family. It was not until I reached high school that I realized that we
weren’t barbaric, uncivilized pagans. We didn’t have to be a typical Korean family to peacefully exist in this
universe.
Without religion, I have the eyes of the world. I float freely through existence, addressing issues from
all angles. I can look at the world through the eyes of a Catholic, Muslim, or Rastafarian. This flexibility isn’t
limited to matters of religion, but also to practical aspects of life, from the everyday problems of an angstridden
teenager, to the most difficult of situations. My upbringing as a “wild, pagan child” seems to place
me in the center of things, right smack in the middle, where I can observe
Sarah Song
my life from every angle. From my
rather comfortable and convenient position, I can see the ability for peoples of all religions to coexist, to
understand the beliefs of one another.
Maybe someday, I’ll find my niche in the realm of religion. For now, I hold onto the title of “the devil’s
daughter,” but just in case, I stay inside during particularly violent thunderstorms.
21
Sarah Song