(This short story was chosen by the “Christmas Memories writing competition“and printed  on “Our Sunday Visitor“Magazine of December 21,2003, page 11 . All the stories entering the contest had to be written with the limit: 300 words or fewer . I am delighted  to introduce this real short story to my dear teenage friends, who cannot read easily the Vietnamese language ). 

Ngoc Nhiem, Pham (Vietnamese Catholic Community in Good Shepherd Parish).

After the iron door of House No. 10 – reserved for dangerous and high-ranking officers of the old regime – was closed and locked  carefully, Father Anh, former lieutenant colonel, secretly told me, “We will have a special Christmas Eve tonight.“
 

“Where ?“ I asked. He replied, “Next to the restroom, at the dark corner, the sleeping places  of our fellows : Thanh, Tam, Vinh and Kinh.“
 

“When ?“ I asked the elderly catholic priest.
 

“After the nightly meeting,“ he said.  I wasn’t a Catholic at the time, but Father Anh, with great effort, had been gradually leading me to Jesus. After some arduous challenges, I was completely  conquered by faith in Jesus, the savior of miserable people like me, who had been detained in vatious communist re-education camps for 12 years plus after the collapse of the South Vietnam government in 1975.
 

In that dark corner of House No. 10, Father Anh celebrated Christmas Eve liturgy for me and four other fellow prisoners in the special  and secret atmosphere of the communist prison.   When a prisoner fumbled his way to the restroom near us, one of us would signal by clearing his throat, and we pretended to be talking about the next day’s work or the forthcoming family’s visit.  When silence and security returned, we resumed our liturgy.
 

Today, I am a Catholic, and I will never forget it. 
 

Uncle Ngoc Nhiem, Pham
San Diego, California