The Eldest Daughter Enters Nursing School

One day in 1971 (Minguo 60), the second daughter Chun-lan told me she had decided to attend senior high night classes, working while studying to lighten the burden at home. I was deeply moved.

When both daughters were in junior high, a capable young Mrs Cui in the village brought back various silk threads from an export agent in Taipei and taught everyone to crochet garments for pay. The patterns were many and beautiful—said to be for export to America.

People from outside the village came to learn too; once you learned you took thread home to crochet. The work helped many households earn a good deal.

My two daughters—one in Year Three of junior high, one in Year One—whenever they had time would go to Mrs Cui for thread and crochet at home for pocket money. Later I realised I had overlooked that the second was already in Year Three and told her to study hard and stop busying herself earning money.

She was quiet by nature and, as she wished, passed the entrance exam for Taipei Municipal Commercial Night School.

When her homeroom teacher learned of this, he quickly found her a job near the commercial school. While the second daughter waited at home for term to start, Father Ba—a Belgian priest, forthright, warm-hearted, and caring—came to ask how her exams had gone. I told him she had decided on night school and work-study to ease the family’s finances. He shook his head and said to her: “Night school is harder for a girl. Here is what I suggest: try for Kengsin Nursing School. Kengsin Hospital is Catholic; they are opening a nursing school this year. Children of church members get reduced fees; I will help you apply for a scholarship so your parents’ burden will not be too heavy. After nursing school you will have work at once—think it over and tell me in two days.” He spoke earnestly; then we bowed our heads and prayed the Rosary, asking the Blessed Virgin Mary to guide my daughter on the path she should take.

After the priest left, my husband and I discussed it, then asked the second daughter’s view and let her decide. In the end she chose Kengsin Nursing School—it was the first intake of the new school, so the teachers should be good.

So my daughter gave up commerce and entered nursing school.

We told the priest our decision. He was pleased and soon went to the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart in Taipei to apply for the church staff children’s scholarship; for one semester at Kengsin Nursing School the church subsidised fourteen hundred dollars.

Kengsin Nursing School also required an extra year of midwifery, so graduation took four years.

Nursing school was arduous; from the second semester of Year Two students were posted to large hospitals for clinical practice. Still, boarding and daily life at school were quite good. I am grateful to Father Ba for his warm help solving Chun-lan’s schooling.

Through four years of nursing school Chun-lan practised and attended classes; busy days flew by and graduation was near. She came home happily to tell us: “The teacher has arranged a job for me at St Joseph’s Hospital—I can start as soon as I graduate. And good news: I passed the national nursing licence exam.” Everyone was glad.

The month after she started work, on leave she bought many ice lollies for the neighbourhood children.

She also gave half her salary (more than two thousand dollars) to her mother. She said: “From now on every month I will bring money home to help with household expenses, because my brother and younger brother and sister are still in school.”

I took her money, deeply moved, thinking that from now on with my daughter’s help the family finances would ease a lot. After struggling so long, the children had finally grown up—how good.