Most of my mission years in Korea were in ministry to people with Hansen's disease, better known as leprosy. For eight years I lived in a farming village that was an old cemetery lent to those with the disease, who had been living under bridges as outcasts to society. One villager, Maria, became a close friend. She was about 50 years old and had married a man who also had the disease. She grew rice and vegetables and raised pigs and chickens for food and income, even with one hand badly withered and numbness in other extremities from the illness. Her eyesight was also affected, but God gave her sight to see more clearly the good in others.

Responding to villagers' needs was difficult for me as I struggled to communicate in Korean. But Maria, who was also the women's leader, said, "Come, Sister, I will help you. ... Yes, we can do it." I grew to become one with the people as this hope-filled woman taught me more than I could ever imagine. To this day, I give thanks for her faith, courage, and, yes, healing touch.
Alice Cardillo, M.M.


While serving in Tanzania, I decided to grab a bite to eat in a fast-food restaurant in Dar es Salaam. As I sat down, the cashier asked if she could join me. I thought at first that she just wanted a break. Before long she excused herself, and, within seconds, I had someone else sitting with me. In Tanzanian culture being alone is considered something undesirable, and thus the people were trying to keep me company as I ate so I wouldn't feel lonely!
Deborah Northern, MKLM


As a diocesan priest in Albany, N.Y., I also serve a few months a year in Guatemala. One day, three women from the States accompanied me for Mass in an indigenous hamlet in the Guatemalan hills. Although one of the women, Arlene, used a wheelchair, I saw no problem, as the church was only a 20-minute drive away. But when we got to the church, we learned that Mass would be at a home more than a half mile away— on foot down a steep, dirt and rock footpath. Clearly, Arlene's wheelchair wasn't going to make it.

Knowing the men of these rural communities regularly carry their sick to the road on their backs, I squatted down like a frog and Arlene climbed aboard. My knees felt as if they would buckle! Yet I was able to ease us down one step and one breath at a time. We celebrated a joyful Mass with about 75 Mayan people.

Then, the dreaded return. This time a Mayan man said, "Padre, just put her on my back." We did as instructed and up the hill he went with no stops. He didn't even break a sweat and was waiting by the car with Arlene still on his back when we caught up!

A profusion of thanks drew only a humble "No es nada" (It's nothing) from our Good Samaritan, while I wondered if I might find a chiropractor in one of the villages.

Father Rich Broderick

Wanted: Missioner Tales
MARYKNOLL magazine publishes Missioner Tales from Maryknoll priests, priest associates, Sisters, Brothers, Lay Missioners and Affiliates about their experiences in mission. We welcome tales from volunteers who have done short-term mission trips and from missioners working in cooperation with Maryknoll or tales that convey the Maryknoll mission spirit.

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Missioner Tales
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