when I saw the address of the Daughters of St. Paul, my heartbeat speeded up and I knew I couldn’t wait another day to get in touch with them.
Today, many years later, I still remember the beautiful smile of the Daughter of St. Paul who answered my timid knock on the door of their residence…. I had long admired a similar smile in the book, The Biography of Sr. Laurence, which a friend of mine had given me. She had purchased it by chance (but was it really “chance”?) from an Italian sister, Sr. Lidia Meggiolaro, who had been visiting the families of the area on “propaganda.” In that little book, I found the news that the Daughters of St. Paul had opened a community in Korea a few months earlier and it also listed their address….
At that time, I was paying regular visits to the Holy Family Sisters because I dreamed of leading a “special” life. Yet when I saw the address of the Daughters of St. Paul, my heartbeat speeded up and I knew I couldn’t wait another day to get in touch with them. In fact, that very same day I went to see them. I was welcomed by Sr. Eulalia D’Ettore. The house the sisters lived in did not look very appealing. The windows were overed by faded blankets that served as curtains and the rooms were overrun with mice. But that didn’t disgust me. In fact, I wanted to laugh, which was a good thing because when I entered the Institute as an aspirant one of the first things I was told to do was to drown one of the mice that had been caught in the trap….
I didn’t pay much attention to the external surroundings because all my attention was focused on the example of the sisters. At that point, they were not able to speak Korean, but they radiated goodness and a vibrant faith. That was enough to make me want to share their life in Christ.
Every Sunday I would drop by the convent to pray with the sisters. One day, Sr. Eulalia told me that Sr. M. Irene Conti would be arriving at any moment from Japan. “If she gives her approval,” I was told, “then you can enter our Institute.” I pictured Sr. Irene as a tall person with a noble bearing, like Sr. Eulalia. Instead, she turned out to be a tiny woman who emanated great goodness.
Unlike today, I was accepted as an aspirant without first undergoing a “live-in” experience with the sisters and without making a course of spiritual exercises in preparation for my entrance. I was very happy to be accepted into the Congregation but I was also worried about the reaction of my parents, who were Protestants. I didn’t have the courage to tell them about my decision. In fact, I left home without a word to them and without looking back over my shoulder.
With the consent of my parents, I had been baptized a Catholic in 1959 in the Cathedral of Seoul. I was 19 years old at the time and my parents later told me that they had dreamed of seeing me get married in that same church one day….
When I entered the Congregation my father was so angry he threatened to set fire to the convent. Because Sr. Eulalia was worried that he really might do it, she asked the Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Help, who lived nearby, if they would please hide me. Consequently, for about two weeks I spent my days with those sisters, returning to the FSP convent only at night. Just when it seemed as if the danger had passed, my mother and brother turned up on the doorstep. They looked so sad that Sr. Eulalia suggested I return home with them. I took her advice and spent three months with my family. Finally my father gave me permission to return to the Daughters of St. Paul, on certain conditions. “You can go,” he said, “but only for the two-year aspirancy.” My mother added, “Remember you can come home any time you want, even before the two years are up. The door is always open.”
My heart was beating rapidly and I was unable to contain my great joy. The next day, I flew with the wings of an eagle to the FSP community of Hukseok-Dong, where I sang a heartfelt “Glory to God” along with the sisters.
Fifty years have gone by since that day and my “two years of aspirancy” are not over yet!