My name is Nhat Le. “Nhat” in Vietnamese means “the Sun.” I was born and grew up in Nhatrang, a small, beautiful city by the Pacific Ocean, just about 300 miles north of Sai Gon. I have two older sisters, four older brothers, and two younger brothers. All my brothers and sisters are married, so I have a lot of nieces and nephews, about twenty of them, and I still have to work on their names. My brothers and sisters are still in Vietnam except one brother. He and his family have been in the U.S. for about eight months and now and live in Grand Rapids, Michigan. My father passed away seven years ago when I had just arrived to the U.S. to study. I was the only child who was not present for my father’s funeral. My mother is seventy years-old, but because of a serious stroke she endured twelve years ago, half of her body has been paralyzed. She looks very weak and older than her age.

I was born in 1971, amidst the Vietnam War. During that time my father was a teacher at a Catholic school. However, right after the war, the communists took over all the schools including the seminaries. That meant my father and all of his colleagues lost their jobs. In order to help the family survive, my mother gave her role as house wife to my oldest sister, who was about fifteen years old at that time. Now my mother was able to help my father on the farm that was far away from our home. Two of my oldest brothers, despite their young age, had to give up school to work on the farm with our parents.

My childhood was full of suffering and hardship. As a child, I desired that my mom could stay home with me, that I had enough food to eat, and clothes to wear, etc… However, when I look back at my family during those difficult times, I can honestly say that I had a happy family because of all our love, support and strong faith in God. My father was like a sea captain who led the boat of his family going through a severe storm. My mother was always beside my father and all of my brothers, sisters and I were like good sailors who always listened to their captain, my father.

After the war, the school system in Vietnam was terrible because it was run only by uneducated communist teachers. However, my parents made us, the younger children, go to school in order to learn how to read and write. Fortunately, because my father was a very good teacher, he tried to teach us whenever he could in order to help us have a better education and prevent us from the communist influences.

My home was next to the Church and I think that this is one of the greatest blessings my family has received from God. All my family members were involved in the Church. My father taught catechism for many years until he died; each of my sisters and brothers had their own roles in the Church; I joined the altar boys, children’s choir, and then I became a catechist. I thank God that we had a wonderful pastor who always cared for the spiritual wellbeing of his parishioners.

After I graduated from high school and reached the age of eighteen, I joined the Navy because it was mandatory in a communist country. This was the first time that I lived far away from my family, and especially far away from the church. I decided that this was a good time for me to better train myself in hardship, discipline, and in an environment where I was not able to attend weekly mass or other sacraments.

After two and a half years of serving in the army, I went home and continued to be involved in the Church. During this time, after the collapse of Eastern European Communism, the Vietnamese government tried to be open to the outside business world. The result was that they had to be more relaxed in controlling the Church in order to show the world that they also allowed religious freedom. With that purpose in mind, they allowed the Church to reopen five major seminaries in Vietnam, one of which was in my diocese. The reality was that the communist government still had a hostile attitude toward the Church and tried to control the church in various ways. For example, they allowed each diocese to send ten seminarians every two years to five seminaries. The candidates for the seminaries had to be interviewed and approved by them. After the program at the seminary, the bishops were required to ask permission from the local government to ordain these seminarians. They did not allow the bishops to move their priests or have any religious activities outside the boundary of the parishes. The toughest part is that they allowed themselves the right to say “yes” or say “no” to the Pope when he wanted to assign a new bishop in Vietnam.

I decided to join the group of the candidates for the seminary when I was twenty two years old. During the time that I was waiting for my turn, I studied English at the college I attended. After I graduated, I was informed that it would still be awhile before I was accepted into the seminary. In order to speed the process, my bishop sent us to other countries like France, Italy, Canada, the Philippines, Australia, Canada, and the U.S. to study. I was one of the two seminarians who were sent to Mundelein Seminary.

I came to the U.S. in 1999 and studied one year at a college seminary in Iowa. Then I moved to Mundelein in 2000 and after five years of studying at Mundelein, I was ordained by Cardinal Francis George in May, 2005. Shortly following, I went back to Mundelein to continue my studies in theology for two years. I just finished my study last May.

Because of the current political situation in Vietnam, I am not able to return to my original diocese. Last year my Bishop had a chance to visit Chicago to speak with Fr. John Canary, the Vicar General of the Archdiocese. He asked Fr. John Canary to grant me permission to stay here and work in the Archdiocese of Chicago until I could return home. Fr. John Canary was very pleased to accept me. That is why I am here as an associate priest at St. Raymond. This is my first assignment and St. Raymond now is my family.