“As the deer longs for a running stream, so my soul longs for you, O God.”

“Once upon a time, there was the most powerful and charming prince who went out to seek for his beloved …” Aren’t fairytales and love stories the ‘greatest hits’ of all times? Who among us, after watching Cinderella, are not fascinated by its idealistically beautiful ending, and craved to be a part of it?  Yet in the truest sense, all our lives are unfolding love stories—which began from eternity in the heart of the Heavenly Father, the Creator, the Author and Source of all Life.

 So in love with us that the act of creating alone is not enough, the Creator continuously pursues us, calling us ever closer to Himself so to be one with Him. O Lord, if we have never met, how do we know to love you?  Although your countenance is veiled and hidden, our paths to you were kindly etched out – filled with hints and signs of your love. You also sent “angels” to guide us to and lure us by Your beauty, truth and goodness.

I would love to say that my whole life is a fairytale, but in the beginning, it was not. Having lost their pharmacy and all its income to the government after the fall of Saigon in 1975, my parents operated a beverage stand to get us through tough times. The youngest of ten kids, I always felt hungry growing up, and even after a sumptuous meal the emptiness lingered. We may be poor and penniless, but I lacked neither love nor education. Yet, weak and fragile after contracting polio at 11 months, I naturally befriended inadequacy and helplessness. God however, placed an “angel,” my grandfather, in my path to elevate my esteem and affirm my dignity.

 My grandfather was tall and slender, half bald, and had a damaged eye from the war. Like many Vietnamese, he lived with his eldest son (my father) and supported us with his carpentry and basket making skills. Every day, rain or shine, he woke up at 3:30 A.M., made breakfast for our extended family, and walked daily to the 4:00 A.M. Mass. Although his sight was “impaired,” his spiritual vision was unquestioning. With eyes of faith, he had definitely sailed our family barque, especially mine, through the rough storms of our lives. His face was the face I admired because it was filled with wrinkles, yet radiated holiness and joy. On his hospital bed after an unsuccessful surgery due to old age, he said to my father on a Saturday evening as he breathed his last, “Have you all gone to Mass?” I have never forgotten his parting words to us ever since. God was absolutely first and last on his mind.

He left us many years ago, but the memory of my grandfather remains vividly alive. Just like the sunbeams casting light on the window, there are countless people instrumental to my vocation, even if my mind could not remember or know them. Once, as I walked to class in college, a religious sister approached me and asked, “Do you want to become a sister?” Suddenly startled, the question jumped at me as if I had heard it before. Nevertheless, I recalled the same elated feeling as the question was directed to me. When I was seven years old, Sister Hoa, a religious sister and a family friend, visited and attended my Holy Communion.  Her serene and comely face almost mesmerized me as she drew me close in her arms and asked, “Do you love God?” “Yes,”  “Do want to live in the convent?” “Yes.” On that day I learned my first full religious song and dance. Sister taught me The Magnificat (Mary’s hymn of praise) and the graceful movements accompanying the song.

As the year of consecrated life draws to a close, giving way to the 800th Jubilee year of the founding of the Order of Preachers, my heart is full of joy and gratitude for the gift of my consecrated life. As a Dominican sister, I am grateful that many of my “what if...” perplexing questions about life and love have an answer. Most of all, with the rise and fall of daily life, I am ever grateful for the intense yearning to unite myself with the living God, who is irresistibly drawing near and seeking out His beloved.