Great Love Over Half the Globe
By Li-chuan Hsieh
Translated by Norman Yuan

From a material viewpoint, Sister Chao is as poor as a church mouse, but in her soul, she is very rich. At the age of 26, she walked into a mountainous area in Taiwan, bringing God's love and blessings. For 34 years she has dedicated herself to God's children - the young and old aboriginals of the Tai Ya Tribe.

Na-lo Mumu's 34 Years of Service

"Mumu, if it weren't for you, I don't know where I would be now." These are the grateful words from a long-time drunkard after he quit drinking.

Mumu (a respectful name that the aboriginals at Na-lo gave to the Italian Catholic sister) said she had been deeply anguished because the aboriginals had not accepted her exhortations to quit drinking. However, she had thought again: maybe she should give them more love; maybe she had not done enough. Looking at the perseverance on Mumu's face and thinking of the great love developed from her constant introspection, I suddenly realized the great strength and dedication that made a young girl, just over 20 years old, travel from Sardinia, Italy, to a faraway country to spend half her life listening to the hearts of foreigners and to help them solve their problems. Na-lo Mumu, deeply respected by the aboriginals of the Tai Ya Tribe, has stayed 34 years in a mountain area near Hsinchu, Taiwan, because of her love for God and his people.

From Italy to the Mountains of Taiwan

Sister Elena Beaa, with simple luggage and a desire to serve God's children, crossed the ocean and arrived in Hsinchu on July 25, 1961. The place where she first resided was Heng Shan, a Hakka village. In order to fit into the local life, she spent a year learning the Hakka dialect. She said to herself, "I came here not as a guest. I came here to become a Chinese." To be a true Chinese, she had to have a Chinese name. A Chinese Catholic priest gave her a name which coincided with the meaning of her Italian name. Sister Elena Became Hsiu-jung Chao, a Chinese with Western features.

A few years later, Mumu happened to be assigned to Chien-shih Village to help a Catholic priest hold a parish activity. She was deeply touched by the simplicity of the aboriginals there, which she would never forget. "Every child's face was so lovely, but their clothes were so ragged. There was a mother holding a baby to her chest, with another on her back and a third holding her hand. The fourth one, holding the edge of her skirt, followed her step by step to the church to attend the Sunday service." The sincerity and the optimism of the aboriginals made Mumu decide to serve in those mountains.

Thirty Years in Na-lo

Her desire to serve the aboriginals was soon fulfilled. In 1967, Mumu learned that the Tai Ya Tribe at Na-lo Village needed a sister to provide long-term service. Without a second thought, she requested that assignment. For the first five years, she walked back and forth between Chien-shih and Na-lo. At that time, the only approach to Na-lo was a small path amidst weeds. Walkers had to be very careful because they ran the risk of being attacked by snakes or wild animals. Several times Mumu nearly lost her life.

In order to improve the quality of life in the village, she started a sewing class for the women and planned the educational curriculum for the parish Fang-chi Nursery. "Every time before the sewing class, I had to go to Hsinchu City to buy material. At that time I could buy a lot of fabric and woolen yarn wholesale with NT$1.00," she recalled happily. She was a very smart shopper who didn't waste even one penny of donated money. After long training, some women went to the cities to get orders for making clothes, and some even opened a workshop when their skill matured. All those changes surprised the teachers in Chien-shih Junior Middle School. What surprised them most was that those mothers in Na-lo were no longer drinking.

Pure Love

Because of her deep concern for the aboriginals, Mumu made regular visits to different tribes. Each patrol would take her more than one month, walking through different mountain areas, river valleys, and small trails. It was a hard job. However, when she thought of the chance that she could meet lovely aboriginal friends, she never tired of doing it.

For poor families or families with sick members, Mumu would pay the tuition and buy nutritious lunches for their children, send the sick to the hospital, or give those families rice, cooking oil and salt. Whatever she had the ability to provide, she would do her best to give them. For those chronically poor families that needed long-term care, she and the nursery teacher frequently made donations secretly. She said sympathetically, "There was nothing they could do except wait for help. Their hearts were bleeding too." Mumu always thought from other people's viewpoints and preserved their self-respect. Thus, she gave her love in a way acceptable to the recipients.

When she first arrived at Na-lo, the parents thought education would not be necessary for their children to feed themselves. Because of this, there were only 10 students in Fang-chi Nursery. Most children wandered around in the river valley or played in the streams. Mumu visited every family to talk with the parents. When she had the money, she bought a van and drove to each family to take the children to the nursery. Those lingering children whose parents worked outside were invited to the nursery and later on became frequent visitors in the classroom. She reasoned, "The purpose of education is not to bring people to the summit of power, fame or wealth. Education is to teach people how to do things properly and how to get along with others. Education is to teach people how to face and resolve problems.

Walk With Them for a Distance

Mumu's ideals were realized by the kids. Those who graduated from Fang-chi Nursery later became primary school teachers, directors in middle schools, nurses, students in national universities and laborers. No matter what those kids achieved, Mumu was very happy. Her happiness lay in the fact that she had walked with the kids for a distance. This same spirit was shown by her students in their professions.

In order to help the aboriginals learn more about their own culture, she encouraged the students to establish an association based on their own traditional culture. They made a schedule to discuss and study their own culture, and they invited the experienced old men to teach them. Seeing the lessons on the church wall written in the Tai Ya language and Mumu's facial expression as she became absorbed in Tai Ya traditional music, I suddenly realized what an open mind was-to have respect for different cultures.

After our interview, several young men and I were having noodles. All of a sudden, I thought of Mumu. We invited her to join us. She said, "Do you have enough? Don't worry about me. I have the best sandwich (toast and tomatoes." Toast and tomatoes! I was told that that was the only kind of meal she had had in the past 30 years. Her scanty food reminded me of Mother Teresa's simple life. Perhaps that spirit of selflessness can enable one to reach souls more easily, to know more clearly the way to redeem people from their troubles, and above all to fulfill the vocation of serving others.