To commemorate the 9th anniversary of the late Pastor Lee Min-ah's passing, a newly revised edition of "A Goodnight Kiss to My Daughter" has been published.
Nearly ten years later, Professor Lee Eo-ryeong, who is battling cancer, rewrote the preface with his daughter in mind.
The poems that took up one part of the first edition have been omitted, and both parts are comprised of letters, along with warm illustrations.
Part 1 contains the words of father Lee Eo-ryeong to his departed daughter, and Part 2 contains letters exchanged with the late pastor Lee Min-a during her lifetime.

After sending off his beloved daughter, Professor Lee Eo-ryeong wrote the first draft of this book with the hope of comforting all daughters, fathers, and all those who have lost loved ones in the world.
The time I couldn't hug my daughter who was loitering in front of the study, hoping for a goodnight kiss, the time I fell asleep at the beauty salon and delayed my daughter's bride's entrance, the time a few days before leaving, when I cautiously asked if my daughter could stay one more night at the hotel...
The author, who was looking back on his daughter's life to mourn her, opens up about the love he was unable to convey as an immature father.

Death is not an end in itself, but signifies another beginning, birth.
As he struggles with illness, the concept of death becomes more concrete and realistic for the author, but as his daughter shows, it is not futility or the end.
The author speaks to herself, to her daughter, and to everyone else enduring loss.
'Now you can cry with peace of mind.'
Because our parting will be a new meeting.

If I were given thirty seconds right now, if God would perform such a miracle, then yes, Min-ah, even just once would be fine.
Let's go back to the old days, like rewinding an old video tape.
I'll write like I did then, and you'll wear the white lace pajamas your mom bought you.
And then he opens the study door with great force and shouts, “Good night, Dad!”
I promise.
This time, you don't have to stand there hesitating.
I put down the pen I was writing with, closed the book I was reading, and stretched out my arms.
You run and hug me.
I lift you up high enough to reach the ceiling as high as I am, and kiss your sleepy eyes and your flushed cheeks goodnight.
Good night Minah, sleep well Minah.

--- p.23

Fathers believe they are saving their daughters, but in reality, it is more often the daughters who save their fathers.
Just like Simcheong opened her father's eyes.
How many daughters must die in the water before their blind fathers open their eyes?
I think that if fathers knew that, they would never do things like war, violence that takes other people's lives, or destroy the environment by turning forests into deserts.

--- p.51

But the moment I gave birth to you and became a father, I was born with you as a father, not as a writer, a professor, or a journalist.
From then on, I started following in my father's footsteps.
Yes, I promised myself that I would not let my future children shiver in their rooms on cold winter days.
If I didn't have a family, if you didn't exist, everything I write might have been completely different.
Because of you, my dreams were always directed towards the ground.
Just like that legendary bird.
Like the Merops, a strange bird that flies with its eyes looking at the ground and its tail pointing towards the sky, a bird that always flies upside down with its eyes looking at the ground instead of the sky.
I thought that the petty bourgeois who only looked at the ground and ran, calling themselves the 'vulgar' that I had so despised in my youth, was the love I gave you, the sacrifice I made.

--- p.90

The sea I look down at while holding you in my heart, our sea.
The white sand beach and the green, rippling sea made a louder sound than the sea I had first seen with my acne-covered face.
Why, you ask? Because I held you in my heart and at the same time, I held the sea in my arms and watched the waves.
The sound of your little heart beating, the sound of life, resonated through the waves and spread throughout the ocean.
That's life.
Something that has no end, small waves, big waves, and even the wind that never stops swaying.
Following the wind, a strand of your hair, as thin and delicate as a capillary, brushed past my cheek.
Your little hands held onto mine tighter as your surprise grew.
As if it would never fall.
Perhaps a little frightened by the wonders of the sea you saw for the first time, you refused to leave my side.

--- p.96

Okay, let's tell you the story of the girl who fought with her father and ran away from home.
The child who had been living alone for several years sent a KakaoTalk message to his father, who had cut ties with him after hearing your story.
“I love you, Dad.”
Then, in just a few seconds, I got a reply.
“Nadung.”
The father who broke up with his daughter, pushed her away, and resented her, always had love by his side.
Even in a relationship filled with hatred and distrust, love persists.
That's why, despite being separated for a long time, the father was able to reply to his daughter's message with "Nadung" within seconds.
We were waiting for each other.

--- p.221

I won't talk about your death anymore.
Because death is that close to me.
Death came to me like that, not as an abstract noun, but as a very concrete noun, like the name of an object, like a glass bowl that can be held in the hand, smelled, and broken when thrown.
First of all, I started learning how to forgive myself.
I learned compassion and comfort for my own self-deception, and the generosity to love and cover up my lies.
I've hated myself so many times.
I once answered in a survey that if I met someone on the street who looked exactly like me and lived the same way, I would slap them nicely.
But now I love even my weaknesses.
That's why it's like that.
Because I have learned a little about how to love, embracing, and sympathize with the imperfect and fragile life of human beings.

--- p.254

I'm just looking at the sunset in Jeongseojin, but it's the sunset of the morning sun rising in Jeongdongjin.
The only difference is that you are in Jeongdongjin and I am in Jeongseojin.
It's the same sunset.
I have no reason to cry for you, nor for you to be heartbroken for me.
I really want to tell you this.
It is not that I have forgotten the sorrow of your death, but rather that I believe in the power of rebirth and resurrection that can transform the glow of that sorrow into the glow of morning.
Even if everyone else makes fun of you, I think that power is the power of faith, hope, and light that you speak of.

--- p.263