The way we were - My least brethren
31.03.2010
By Father Timothy Buckley, Seoul, Korea
As I settled down in the office one morning, I became aware that something unusual was happening outside my door. Several people seemed to be clustered, silently, on the verandah. In a moment the door opened and a family group of poorly-clad Koreans followed Sister Caritas into the room.
Sister Caritas, a German Benedictine, has not been long in St. Patrick’s parish. Most of her 19 years in Korea have been spent in the Benedictine foundation in Won San in the North. About four months ago she was among the four sisters who came to instruct the new converts here.
“Father, these people are from Won San,” she said, and as she made a gesture in the direction of her followers all bowed towards me; none save the little girl, aged about 10 years of age, greeted me vocally. The entire group seemed ill at ease. There was something definitely odd about them.
“They cannot speak, Father. They are deaf mutes.” At this point there was an excited interchange of gestures. “The man’s name is Nicholao,” said Sister, “and his wife’s is Maria Therese.”
“Then they are Catholics?” I enquired.
“Yes,” she said, “Nicholao was born of Catholic parents and I instructed Maria Therese before her marriage. Nicholao is very good at his doctrine.
He is clever, but not Maria Therese. It took two years before she could get – ‘Yong Se.’ Please how do you say in English?”
“Baptism,” I said. “Yes, of course, baptism. Then they were married and their little girl can speak.”
There was one question I was anxious to ask.
“Sister, how did you instruct them?”
“I learned the deaf and dumb alphabet,” she said. “ There was nothing else I could do when they came for instruction. Then the little girl who had been communicating with her parents spoke up.
“Father, can my mother and father go to Confession?”
Sister Caritas smiled. “They are poor and have a hard time trying to live. I had no idea where they had got to until I met Nicholao in the street yesterday. He was so happy to see me.”
I looked on, a little bewildered, as she carried on a long conversation with them. “They remember their prayers,” she said with satisfaction. All this time Sister carried on this three-cornered conversation in English, Korean and sign language.
“But, Sister,” I asked, “did you have any difficulty in learning the sign language?”
“Of course, it was some trouble at first. Then they had to learn to write Japanese. That was the language I first had to study when I came here. I knew Japanese better than I knew English,” she said with a modest smile.
At the outbreak of the Korean war, Nicholao Cho and his wife came south. At the same time, Sister Caritas with twenty other German Sisters had been taken prisoner and jailed in Pyongyang. Afterwards they were transferred to a concentration camp and for five years were forced to work on a farm. During that time two sisters died. In 1954 the sisters were sent back to Germany. A year later Sister Caritas returned to Korea and was assigned to the newly-founded monastery in Taegu in the south.
How the wheels turn! Now Nicholao has brought along his friends to receive instruction. I have no idea how Sister explains the more difficult points of doctrine, but every Sunday after Mass, twelve deaf mutes gather to learn the Gospel story from the lips - or perhaps it should be, the hands - of Sister. The poorest of Gods’ poor have been befriended by one whose name has been well chosen - Sister Caritas.
- Taken from The Far East, 1 December 1958.
