Kim Yong Sang was born in the late 70's in the most remote province of a most remote nation. Stripped of its natural resources and its original beauty, this land is the worst of the worst that the enemy of our souls has done in Chosun.

At an age that is far too young to be experiencing such things, his mom and dad succumb to the pressures of life and are divorced. Though he stays with father where there is less of a problem for his survival, his heart reaches out to Mom, who moves to the mountains to see if she can eke out an existence of some sort. Most Korean sons cannot see their mothers in such pain.

Against his own personal longings, yet in accord with Korean tradition, he picks up the family mantra of farming, and gives money earned to his mother.

In 1980's North Korea, when his farming life begins, a one-year portion of food is a mere 50 kilograms of corn. The government graciously provides a certain area of land, available for a small rental fee. Production must be reported to the "landlord", and of course that same entity grabs its share off the top.

Did I say 50 kilograms? Clumsy of me. After processing, the actual weight is more like 30 kilograms. And if the corn is not ripe, the number drops even further. And yes, I did say, one year.

It is hard work, especially for a growing boy, but the temptation to miss a day now and then is far off-set by pressures from various organizations who become aware of the shortcoming. In the ever present Communist youth clubs, children must take an oath to serve the dictating Kims forever. And serve they do. Like machines serve, without soul, without joy, except that which is pasted on by those who watch for smiles.

So to miss work is considered a sin in a nation that doesn't even know of the One who defines that word properly. Meetings akin to our church services are held weekly, and a major portion of the time is spent in criticism. Not Biblical or textual criticism. Self criticism. Public personal condemnation of one's own faults, faults being those imperfections that hinder the progress of Communism, and the North Korean version of same called "Juche."

Even though one is hungry, he goes to work to avoid those meetings.

Whether the farmer son, or the father , of a different calling, it is considered normal to put in a full eight-hour day combined to three or four hours of overtime. From age ten. Anything less is considered a blatant show of disloyalty.

In a good year, reports Mr. Kim, there is no extra food offered to the worker, only to the government coffers. Still, throughout the 80's, he is doing well enough. By the turn of the decade, a sudden drop in the oil supply of the nation has a serious affect on farming machinery. Oxen are used more, but this does not meet the need. And though less and less is possible each year, the quotas remain the same. Uncle Kim Jong Il gets his, but our Kim and his family see their corn ration dwindle to starvation levels.

Now the entire farming community has to head for the hills, looking for edible plants, wild vegetables. This, added to the meager amount of rice, allows for a thin soup meal each day.

Seeing his income, and thus his means of helping his mother, evaporate, Mr. Kim escapes the farming area, and finds his way to a hospital where goats are raised. He is brought on board, and starts a new life as a goatherd.

When it becomes clear that he cannot both survive and send things to Mom on this income, he starts an extra-curricular business in the mountains. Securing his goats firmly in a place where they can eat grass much of the day, he climbs into the higher elevations and creates his own farming plot. This of course is illegal. No ownership, no privately run enterprises are allowed in North Korea. Only the government can own. If the police hear that a citizen is making money, they do an investigation, confiscate the money, and send the creative person to jail.

Though Kim knows all of this, he continues on, even adding to his list of jobs a carpentry business. He makes and repairs farming equipment, using his experience as a farmer. Then he finds used and old furniture, refurbishes it and resells it. He is only 18 years of age.

His string of luck begins to run out. As could have been predicted, one day the Police do indeed come and and ask why he is doing all this, and he is forced to give profits to them, so much so that he cannot continue this line of work. Thankfully, he escapes a jail sentence.

In 1998, as the now-famous North Korean famine has been raging for several years, he follows a steady flow of refugees out of North Korea into China with his mother and sister. His intent is not to live there, only to visit awhile until things get a little better.