I’m so glad that he’s alive.”The story would be remarkable enough if it was unique, but there are countless people like Mrs Lee on both sides of the demilitarised zone, or DMZ, which still divides the two Koreas. The 1950-53 war separated parents and children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters. In South Korea alone, there are 1.2 million people with close family members in the North – add the second and third generations, and the number comes to almost 8 million. For almost a lifetime they have had nothing to do but wait, as relations between the two rival states have wavered between suspicion and outright hostility. Then in 1997, a new president, Kim Dae Jung, was elected in Seoul, with a promise to take a more conciliatory attitude to the North, and do his best for the divided families.Two months ago came the breakthrough for which everyone had been hoping. President Kim flew to the North Korean capital, Pyongyang, at the invitation of the North Korean leader, Kim Jong Il. If the two men had done nothing more than shake hands, it would have been a historic moment, but they went much further, agreeing to a list of practical measures intended to draw the old enemies closer together, with the goal of eventual reunification.

Last week, fibre optic cables were put in place linking Pyongyang with Seoul. Yesterday, liaison offices were opened up at Panmunjom, the border village which represents the only crossing point in the razor-wire and minefields of the DMZ.But the most powerful, emotional and symbolic moment of all comes today, when 100 people from the North and 100 people from the South will fly across the frontier to greet their long-lost relatives on the other side. “We almost gave up hope,” says Soon-hwan’s brother, Ahn In-hwan, who was two months old when he disappeared. “There was 1 per cent of hope left, and that has been rewarded. It is a great thing that the North and South should come together like this and, for my family, it is a miracle.”Of all the great human displacements of the 20th century, few have been as sudden, as cruel or as long-lasting as that of the separated Koreans. East and West Germans suffered a similarly traumatic division, but they could at least write to and telephone one another, and had access to the same radio and television. Even if a North Korean could afford to purchase a short-wave radio, possession of one is a grave crime, except for a privileged few.

Between the two countries there are no direct mail, telephone or transportation links.Over the years, a few thousand Southerners have sent messages and money to their relatives, by paying thousands of pounds to middlemen in the Chinese province adjoining North Korea; a few hundred have even managed to arrange clandestine meetings there. But most have been in the situation of Mrs Lee – staring into a chasm of loss, with no facts, no clues, and nothing on which to base hope or despair.The South Korean government has prepared biographical notes on the North Korean visitors, which illustrate the tiny tragedies that trapped people on the wrong side of the line. Some were committed communists who joined the North’s volunteer army. Some were South Korean soldiers who went missing with their units and became PoWs in the North. Some had left their homes temporarily, planning to return to their husbands, wives or children when the war ended and the country was reunited Some, like Sook-hwan, simply vanished. South Korean official documents list one man, 73-year-old Lee Bok-yon, who went out to buy a bicycle in Seoul and never came back. His 71-year-old wife will meet him tomorrow and, the document drily notes, “plans to ask him why he took such a long time simply to buy a bicycle”.The paperwork exchanged by the two sides reveals nothing more than names, ages and places of origin, leaving the families to speculate on what their relatives have become over the years.

“We don’t know whether my son is married, or has kids or what his job is – nothing,” says Mrs Lee “But he’s got a good mind. He remembered all our names, even those of his baby brothers – he remembered the exact address He never forgot us. He must have wanted so much to see us again.” But whoever he is at the age of 65, it seems likely that Soon-hwan has done well for himself.The 100 South Koreans travelling to Pyongyang this morning were chosen at random by computer; none are famous or distinguished. But, to the irritation of the Seoul government, the North Koreans have not adopted the same system. Many of their delegation are people of eminence and achievement – like Kim Ok-bae, North Korea’s most famous dancer, and Oh Yong-jae, its leading poet. University professors, research scientists, an actor, a painter – for all the warming of relations between the two sides, the North is presenting only its most articulate, presentable and ideologically sound face.For similarly murky political reasons, all the reunions will take place in a hotel, and Soon-hwan and his Northern compatriots will not be allowed to visit their family homes.