By: Sr. Nora Wiseman
March 14th last year was just like any other day in the midwifery department in our hospital here in Mokpo, Korea. There was the usual quota of expectant mothers waiting to have their babies. Among them was Chang Hae Sook, a thirty-one year old woman who was to have her fourth child. She was premature labour and was hemorrhaging .
At 8:30 pm the obstetrician deliver a baby boy weighing 750 grammes – less than two pound bag of sugar. The doctor nodded to the pediatrician present, telling him that there was no hope, and he threw the little morsel into the trash can.
I quickly retrieved the baby and found he was faintly breathing . As the doctor said there was no hope, I baptized the child calling him Johann.
We put the little mite an incubator. Amazingly this tiny scrap of humanity began, at first imperceptibly , and then rapidly to make strides. With every breath he drew life into that little frame and slowly begun to react and to those around him. He became the most popular person in the hospital, a joy and success to the pediatrician and nurses looking after him. He was, of course, an embarrassment to the obstetrician who almost did give not him the chance to survive.
For a two and a half months Johann lived in an incubator. His parents came as often as they could to see him. His father is an orphan and he would dearly love to have many children. But as he and his wife are just casual builders’ labourers they barely make ends meet as it is. Their joy in their little son’s progress was infectious. When he was out of the incubator and taking feeds they took him home. He weighed less than five pounds. We all know that even though he would not have many of this world’s goods, he would be rich in the love and affection of his parents.
So we said a sad goodbye to him as he went home; but we needn’t have worried. He was to become one of the most frequent visitors to our out-patients department. His first visit was just one week after his discharge. He was admit because of dehydration.
How did this happen? Well, both of the parent out working all day, his older sister, aged nine, had to rush from school at her midday break to give Johann the only bottle he got from morning till night. It is any wonder that, caught in a such spiral poverty, the baby suffered. He was in pathetic condition when he came, but again his tenacity to life pulled him through.
The next time we saw him he was a mass of mosquito bites. The neighbours got together and made a net for his cot. I went to visit the family some time after, and there was Johann under his net, alone in the house.
’ Johann is here again’, one of the nurses told me. And sure enough there he was. This time his stay was a lengthy one as he was a broken leg. His six years old sister was carrying him on her back when she fell and the poor little mite broke his leg. However, I was glad to have him in for a time to build him up, and indeed he thrived.
After his discharge his mother brought him back regularly in the clinic. We were able to give him some tins of milk and the child continued to gain weight. He was successfully put the measles over him and is now he was able to stand, smile and even say a few words. On his first birthday he weighed less than 12lbs, but the doctor fell sure that his psychological development will be normal, even though his physical will be small.
Johann may not turn out to be famous as this world’s standards go, he probably will not,- the poor seldom do. But his very existence is a miracle and his birth and the circumstances surrounding it will not be quickly forgotten here in Mokto. Another child, poor too, had angels sing at his birth. I heard no angel sing over the trash can that day, but who is to say they weren’t there.
A native of Ireland, Sr. Nora Wiseman has been nursing in the Columban Sisters hospital in Korea for several years.
By: Sr. Aquila Sy, PVM
Last summer in London, I met up a woman from China. She was studying English while I was attending a meeting of my congregation. We become friends. After much the effort to understand each other’s accent, we came to know something about each other. Her home was back in China. She lived there with her husband, her two children and her mother-in-law.
In a small bedroom house, they have the small stove and a small television and a bicycle each for her and her fourteen year old son. She was very appreciative of the good life in England and of the hospitality of the people she came to know. But at the same time, she was deeply aware of the high number crimes and the corrupt morality of the many people. She confided in me that she had never heard of God before, but she had found that believers in God were all good people. She encouraged me to visit China on my way home.
Eventually, I did succeed in visiting China. It was not too difficult. Inquiring about the trips to china and trying to decide whether to join the tour or to venture it alone were more complicated than actually getting my visa and locating my father’s place in China.
We reached the house of my uncle first, my father’s only brother. Upon being told to me, he looked dumbfounded. He was 79 years old but still healthy looking, but hard of hearing. He was in the Philippines with my father until 1933, when he decide to return China at the aged of 26.
He talked to me in Cebuano and asked the people he used to know. His own trade was making irons grills with his son and grandson. He was living in one of the units in a huge and high building.
After all the exchange of information, we went next door to meet my other closest relatives. There we talked again about the family, reviewed letters they received many years ago about my family in the Philippines and showed me photographs of my father as a boy and a young man.
There was much emotion shown by this family, especially by one of them, who is the vice- chairman of the country. He was very concerned of my family in the Philippines since my father’s death.
Both homes of my relatives were limited in space but some of few things spoke of quality and even of beauty, like the embroidered table covers, beautiful tea set and a large red bed with golden Chinese characters.
The following morning, my relative brought me to the house of my own father. Only the walls and the part of the roof-all made of brickwork-remained of the house. It was not far from where I met my first relative the day before. We went back to my great grandfather’s house to photograph it and the box-like container of the tablets showing the names of the deceased members of the family. That container was on the table, lighted and in a place of honor at the front of the living room.
We visited the tombs of my grandparents and great grandparents, which were in the same field. I presume that the field once belonged to my father’s family, because the tombs were there. While we were there, various persons who were working in the field came over to us and asked me about their own relatives in Cebu, a number of whom I knew well, since they were all my relatives too!
Before leaving China, I went to my friends and all those who helped in one way or another, to thank them. My friend, Li-na said that she was very happy to have become a friend of mine. She shared with me about her family. She is 21 years old and has a sister and a brother, and all three of them, together with her parents, have work. Li-na is preparing to be married on November 1st to a young man who works as a driver. We exchanged our small dictionaries as souvenirs.
During my visit, my guide, ShoaPing and I shared a lot about each other. She asked me about my life, my family and my career. I described my religious life to her as simply as I could, and I showed her my Presentation cross, which I was wearing. She said that she like my congregation and perhaps could become a member.
She felt that all the people we asked for help were eager to assist us because they were so touched that a woman should be looking for the roots of her family when normally, among the Chinese, it is the man who does this.
I was touched by this young woman’s sincerity and dedication to her job.
Even now, the humanity, friendliness and natural simplicity of the Chinese, as I observed them in China, still live in my memory. Their neighborliness to one another and their response to me as a stranger reminded of the rural Philippines. I admired the simplicity, the informality and even the starkness found in the government offices that I saw, since it was in keeping with the condition of the people’s home.
My four day visit has left me with many valuable memories. It has also deepened my awareness of our Asian values and characteristics.
When my relative hear how and why I found them, I was struck by two of their remarks, which have given me much food for reflection:
FIRST, my relatives assured me of the endurance of a blood relationship. For them and for me, it is a bond which outlives time change and revolutions instinctively drawing together kindred, even in the absence of communication and…
SECONDLY, my relatives associated Christianity with a deeper intuition. For me, this was very significant, since Chinese thinking said to be intuitive. And coming from the people who once rejected Christianity because of its Western inculturation, these remarks were for me both complement and a challenge to my own Christianity as an Asian.
Sr. Aquila Sy, PVM, is a Presentation Sister Living in Himamaylan Ngross Occidental
The triangle is an immense stretch of jungle close to the Chinese border. It is the area enclosed by two big rivers that flow from the ice-capped Himalayas and that gradually meet to form the headwaters of the River Irrawaddy.
Although the British had taken control of Burma in 1826 they made no attempt to enter the Triangle for another 100 years. The Kachins who lived there practiced slavery unmolested. The area seemed too wild and too remote.
However, in 1927 a detachment of military police finally entered the Triangle to try to arrange terms for the liberation of the slave. It met the fierce opposition, and the commander was killed. Eventually, after the several skirmishes, the Kachins agreed to release the slaves on condition that the government would compensate them.
Within the Triangle the British Set up a system of indirect rule. The local chieftains retained their customary authority subject to a native Over-chief who liaised with the authorities in Rangoon.
The system had only been working for a few years when Monsignor Usher decided to push the Columban Mission into the Triangle. In 1939 Frs. McAlindon and Stuart became he first missionaries to enter this wild country. They were to seek out a suitable site for a new mission. Crossing the River Mali they headed north. For twelve days they wandered the jungle paths. They hoped to buy rice along the way, but there was a famine, and their own few provision s soon ran out. They have to make their way back, surviving as the best they could on wild sweets potatoes that lay buried up to four feet under the ground, and whatever else they could find. And they could only manage two miles each hour up and down the steep slopes.
Fr. Stuart and Fr. Doody tried again in December, but return for Christmas still with out success.
After Christmas they set off with even more determination. This time they were prepared for a stay of several months. They took extra mules for the extra food supply, salt medicines, oil for the lamps, as well as the inevitable mass-kit. For four months they wandered through most of the southern part of the Triangle. They found friendly reception in the scattered villages but suspicions from the outsiders.
They finally arrived at Kajihtu. It was not an administrative centre , but La Doi lived there. He was Over- chief appointed by the British. La Doi received them warmly, He even encourage them to make Kajihtu their center, and promised to find them a mission site.
With their first objective accomplish they returned to Myitkyina to bring up provision for a permanent stay. The return of provisions prove extremely difficult. The rivers has swollen and all the bridges had been washed away. In July Fr. Doody fell ill and had to go back. Fr. Stuart was alone for next few months.
He set about making friends in Kajithu. He followed the local custom as carefully as possible and successfully treated small ailments such as fever, wounds and sores. The people responded. The site for the mission schools was given. It was on the mountaintop 3,500 ft. up, with the clear spring nearby, and a magnificent view of the Himalayas. The villager cleared the jungle and built a bamboo house for the priests.
Once again Fr. Stuart made the long journey back to the Myitkyina to bring Fr. Dunlea, who would replace Fr. Doody. Monsignor Usher joined them, anxious to see the new mission. They followed the Mali river gorge for fifteen days plunged westwards into the heart of the wild country, along the rim of the gigantic maze of vast deep canyons dense with tangled green jungle, which hid man-eating tigers, panthers, cobras and vipers. Then it lashed rain for two days and nights. The rivers were impassable so they had to wait for several days in the village for the waters to subside. In the village the three developed typhoid, though the effects did not show until Monsignor Usher had left them to return from Kajithu. Fr. Stuart recovered but Fr. Dunlea grew steadily worse. They took him by a makeshift stretcher to a hospital several days’ journey away. He was far gone to recover. The town people made him a coffin and they buried him on a spot where they could see the hills of China.
“In Death,” wrote Monsignor Usher, ‘he brought the whole village very close to us. Every man, woman and child turned in his funeral in sympathy. A cross-planted among them forever, and they know that it commemorate young life given freely for their good. That ultimate proof of love will not be in vain”. Late Fr. Cooney, who became a superior in Burma, was able to write: “ At the time of his death there were no Catholics in Kajihtu or in the surrounding area. Today there are thousands.”
Fr. Mark Alindon returned to Kajithu. The schools were built and the pupils, the son of the four chiefs and twenty others, put their names on the roll. The first solemn baptism in the Triangle took place on January 29th, 1941.
After enduring hardships, illness, and death, the new mission was established.
Four volunteer-legionaries who were going to Papua New Guinea were given a send-off Mass celebrated by Bishop Manuel C. Sobreviñas, and the spiritual director of the Senatus for northern Philippines at the St. Mary Goretti Church at Pius XII Catholic Center.
Three are going as Incolae Mariae and one as Extension Worker. They are Nelda Natividad, Emma Egan, Ma. Elena and Bro. Mariano Bernabe.
Bro. Frank Duff, founder of the Legion of Mary gave these explanations for the two undertaking:
“Incola Mariae literary means “an inhabitant for Mary”. He needs to be a legionary who understands the true spirit of the legion system and to be dedicated enough to give the portion of his free time daily (at least two hours for five days a week) to build up the legionary apostolate in every possible way-Peregrination, Extension, New works, True Devotion to the Nation, above all the apostolate to those outside the Church”.
“The word Incola means a sojourner, a bird of passage in the strange country. In the Psalms the word occurs a number of time in relation to the word 'Peregrination' and shows the two linked in the divine thought. Incola ego sum et peregrinus’- I am a sojourner and a pilgrim’. So the word expresses ideally the state of legionary who goes to a strange place in a pursuit of an apostolate of a higher order, that of bringing the faith to those who do not possess this pearl of great price”.
“In placing the Incola Mariae Extension Worker, care should be taken to place him where his services would be more beneficial from a legionary point of view, and where daily Mass and Holy Communion would be available. He would, of course, have to submit himself humbly of the discipline of the local legion, but the local legion must act toward the Incola Maria/Extension Worker with the understanding that he had come to live legion life to a little more fully.”
The Extension Worker differs from the Incola in that the former renders full-time voluntary service for at least one year. Among those who witnessed the solemn send –off and blessing was Sr. Pacita D. Santos who together with Sister Joaquina Lucas served as Legion Envoys for many years in Spain and South America. She is now the chairman of the Committee on Incolae Mariae.
Antonio Lambino SJ
Who in Asia today are most responsible for the advance of inculturation? It is the poor grassroots of communities of faith, the Basic Christian Communities (BCCs) who are the principal agents of inculturation in many parts of Asia today. As the BCCs struggle to discern and to put up into practice what the Spirit indicates as the authentic Christian way in social situations marked injustice and oppression, the Asian face of Christianity emerges little by little.
The BCCs show that it is a participative Church, which is most capable of inculturation. Inculturation requires a process of courageous transformation, an ongoing conversation, since every historical realization of Christianity is afflicted, as we have tried to explain, with the condition of brokenness. Any change in basic attitude and values, especially one involving the reversal structure of inequality does not come easy. Certainly, such a change cannot and should not be imposed from the top. It must be patiently and laboriously work out from the bottom. The BCCs are not a call for others to change while one ever remain the same. The BCCs represent a major change within the Church itself in terms of participative discernment, involvement and co - responsibility. For this reason, inculturation that is achieve through their agency promises to be more effective and more enduring.
Membership in basic ecclesial communities empowers the poor to be the subject of their own destiny in human society. This “freedom to be” does not favor the objectives and strategies of either the Right or the Left. No wonder the BCCs often attract the unhealthy interest of the dictators and revolutionaries. Authoritarian regimes see them as subversive, a dangerous group that needs to be controlled or suppressed. Rebels, for their part, look upon them as potential allies and try to instrumentalize them for their revolutionary objectives.
By Father Vic Gaboury
It looked as though it was to be a busy time both before and during my first Christmas in Jamaica. Didn’t know the local customs and expectations. The parishioners in Seaford Town where I lived had asked for midnight Mass, and Christmas day there would be Masses in two mission stations at opposite ends of the area I cover.
The road resembles Chinese noodles with twist and turns all the way. I’d be picking up 20 to 35 people along the way in a van made to hold 15.
The day after Christmas there was to be an all-day and all-night church festival - so where or with whom I’d have Christmas dinner wasn’t on the top of my mind.
Then I met Mrs. Marriott on a Communion call to her home. She was frail 87 years, living alone in a small shack, the corner held up with a few stones, and walls inside covered with newspaper to keep out the cool night air up here in the hills of Jamaica. There was no paint on the walls, nothing that looked like home-but I know that whatever she had there, was a home for her and every rag and bottle important.
She welcomed me in after the heavy task of getting her door opened. Inside, in one corner, she had her wood-burning “stove” the metal rim of the car wheel. This lady wasn’t poor, she was destitute. We talked for some time or rather she talked for a long time, telling me of her life and what she was doing through, alone and with out any income apart from $3.50 (American dollars)a month that was her Jamaican old age pension. Along the way I ask her what she would be doing for Christmas and she said “Nothing”, that she is alone and has no family.
So I told her that I would be alone too and could I bring my dinner there and have it with her. She thought that would be nice.
On Christmas day I didn’t finish my last station mission till 1:30 PM. I thought she would be wondering if I’d forgotten our date. When I finally got home I heated up our meal and hurried to her place to find that she had no doubt I’d come eventually. She had a small two by two foot table covered with a clean cloth and two sets without backs. (Of course there was no running water or inside plumbing.) I’d bought plates and eating utensils and we sat down and she prayed for God's blessing. She talked and eat with relish .I don’t know which she enjoyed the most - but enjoy, she did!
She talked of a relative who lived to be over100 years and I asked her if she would like to live that long. She said,” Well, if the Lord gives me many years, I would like it, but if He takes me tomorrow, that is O.K. too
I had wrapped a calendar with the picture of the Sacred Heart on it and some old clothing I had from home, washed and ironed. After dinner I gave them to her and she receive them as if it were an everyday event. But she unwrapped the calendar and saw the picture it wasn’t anything she said that struck me but the way she touched and relished every details as if it were gold. And it was the same with the other “ gifts” as she opened them, saying nothing. After it was all over, she looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes and said “Everyone needs a boost once in a while.”
Before I left she went to the corner of the room and started lifting many things off the large tin, saying she wanted to give me something to take home and I wondered what she might buried beneath all this.
She finally reached the can and took out a bunch of bananas she had there - both for ripening and to keep them safe from rats. With pride she handed me a bunch to take home, happy to be able to give me something. And so she did! Too bad, I had to eat the bananas - because if I could put them with other thing recalling special moments, they would be sitting there with the most memorable, reminding me not only of my first Christmas in Jamaica but of Christmas spent with a gracious lady. I came away with her words ringing in my ears, “We all need a boost now and then” –and I didn’t have to reflect too long to realize it was she who had given just that.
Fr. Gaboury served 20 years in the Philippines before his assignment to Jamaica.