(Epilogue) Captains of the Titanic
A Smile Behind the Mask
Resume Notice
To the readers of The Trail,
Hello, this is Editor Jonathan.
We are resuming the series after a brief pause this winter.
After a brief winter pause to regroup, we have returned to our pages.
Thanks to your warm support and waiting with such patience and affection.
We promise to return with even deeper stories.
Thank you for loving The Trail.
Sincerely,
Jonathan
[Series: The Great Escape to Great Britain] Epilogue. Captains of the Titanic
한국어 버전을 보고 싶거나, 이야기를 계속해서 받아보길 원하시는 경우 아래 페이지로 이동해주세요.
(작가 블로그 가기)
Leaving behind the dreamlike days in Bath, we returned to London—only to find that reality was still playing out like a disaster movie.
The toilet paper aisles in the supermarkets were completely bare (we eventually had to make do with kitchen towels 🤣), and flights home were being cancelled left and right. With the grim determination of soldiers in a war room, we opened our laptops and began an “evacuation operation,” securing tickets one by one to get everyone back to Korea.
After sending them off, the only ones left were my friends—the guesthouse managers who stayed behind to guard the base camp.
“Bro, we’ll close up shop here. We have to stay until the very last guest leaves.”
Standing in that empty guesthouse, with no promise of when people would return, their resolve to guard the place until the end mirrored the image of the Titanic’s captain going down with his ship.
De Cecco Pasta
A few days before our departure, the large supermarkets in central London resembled battlefields. Pasta, rice, canned goods... anything that could be called “food” had vanished. We wanted to cook one last supper together, but without noodles, we were about to give up.
That’s when a small organic grocery store in a quiet alley caught our eye. It was the kind of high-end shop we wouldn’t dare enter in normal times. Grasping at straws, we walked in—and found an unbelievable sign.
De Cecco Pasta - At Cost Price
(Limit 2 per person)
Let’s get through this together. We are always here.
I doubted my eyes. At a time when hoarding could have driven prices up tenfold, they were selling at cost.
The shop owner saw our surprised faces, gave a gentle nod, and said:
“Don’t worry. We’re always here. It won’t run out for a while.”
Faced with disaster, this expensive organic shop chose not profit, but a human kind of love.
As we paid and walked out, we were all choked up, unable to say anything but “Thank you, thank you.” When the two bags of pasta were placed in our hands, it felt like holding something burning hot. In this gray city frozen by hatred and fear, it felt like we had been handed the one thing that remained unfrozen.
A Smile Behind the Mask
Finally, I boarded the plane to Korea.
The seats were full, yet the cabin was quiet as a mouse.
Everyone had their masks pressed down tight. It was a bleak landscape where conversation with neighbors was forbidden. People reacted nervously to even a single cough, eyes darting around, guarding against each other as potential sources of infection.
But strangely, amidst that suffocating silence, I was smiling. No one could see it behind my mask, but a foolish grin wouldn’t leave my lips.
My heart was full.
Ten years ago, when I left London in 2009, I was running away. My heart was tattered by cold stares, and I boarded the plane grinding my teeth, thinking, “See if I ever come back.”
But now, in 2020, returning amidst a real disaster called a pandemic, I am smiling.
The strangers who acted as my knights, holding burgers to block racist attackers,
The station staff who winked while revealing a hidden walking path,
The grocery store owner who gave us pasta at cost and told us to come anytime,
And my friends who guarded the guesthouse until the end, like the captains of the Titanic.
The virus tried to incite us to hate one another,
But soon, we realized the truth.
That the warmth from others was the only antidote.
People are hurt by people, but ultimately healed by people.
I was on my way back, having confirmed this cliché truth with my whole body on the other side of the globe.
👣 Today’s Micro-Action
Pass a “De Cecco Pasta” to someone right now.
It doesn’t need to be a grand gift. Send a short, heartfelt text to someone you’re grateful for.
“Just remembered something I was grateful for
and wanted to reach out. Hope you’re doing well.”
This brief expression of gratitude
Might be the warmest spark to melt someone’s frozen heart today.
You know if you save it for later, you won’t do it! Do it NOW!
Click the link below to verify ⬇️
(End of England Series)
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