In Loving Memory of Gu Mama❤️

Our dear kitchen staff member, Gu Mama, passed away on August 25. She worked at Cornel for over 20 years and has been retired for more than a decade. Gu Mama is a shared and precious memory for many Cornel teachers and students. She was one of the key contributors during Cornel’s founding years, helping the school grow from nothing into the strong institution it is today.

 

Below are memorial tributes written by Principal BihHua and Kindergarten Director May. We are deeply grateful to Gu Mama—for it was through her dedication that Cornel became the unique and special school it is.

 

Dear Gu Mama, thank you. – Principle BihHua

Although I knew this day would eventually come, when May told me that Gu Mama had passed away, I was filled with deep sorrow.

Gu Mama was the very first “kitchen mama” of Cornel kindergarten when it was founded in 1989, and she stayed until her retirement. For all the children who graduated from the Nanmen campus before 2010, their fondest memories always include Gu Mama’s signature dishes. I especially miss her oyster vermicelli soup, sticky rice dumplings, and sesame-oil chicken soup. No matter how busy she was, she always worked her magic to change up the menu each day so everyone could eat healthily and deliciously. The children attending Cornel back then were all adorably chubby from her wonderful meals, which made parents very happy.

I remember when the kindergarten was first established. Because Cornel was unprecedented in Taiwan, Gu Mama saw me rushing around anxiously every day, cared for me like a mother. She often reminded me to take care of my health and not overwork myself. Whenever the school faced challenges, she encouraged me as an elder would, even offering advice. She knew how difficult it was to start the school and went out of her way to help every bit of tuition income was spent wisely. She not only cared for all the students and teachers but also looked after my own family—my parents, my husband, and my children—as though they were her own. She watched my younger son, Charlie grow from a four-year-old entering kindergarten to getting married and having children. In 2019 she even made a special trip to attend the first birthday celebration of Charlie’s baby, who had returned from the United States.

As much as everyone loved Gu Mama and her cooking, she eventually had to retire and enjoy her later years. Every year during the holidays I would ask May to bring small gifts on behalf of the school to visit Gu Mama, share school news, and check on her well-being. Gu Mama used to call to thank me and would attend the school’s annual Thanksgiving and the Yeh family’s Christmas banquet. But gradually her strength waned and walking became difficult. We worried about her but couldn’t do much. I once introduced a renowned doctor to treat her, but during the pandemic everything had to be online, which was nearly impossible for her. After her husband passed away, Gu Mama lived alone. Later she became a Christian, serving the Lord with enthusiasm, and found joy and comfort in her faith.

Gu Mama was truly a trailblazer and a great contributor to Cornel. Without her daily dedication to preparing healthy and delicious meals that freed me from worry, I would not have been able to devote myself fully to run school, and Cornel could not stand strong to this day.

Dearest Gu Mama, we thank you and cherish the memory of your gentle smile. Though you are laying in God’s hands, we will always remember you.

 

Farewell, Gu Ma-Director May

It is with deep sorrow that I mourn the passing of a most respected elder — Gu Ma.
This past Mother’s Day was the last time I went to visit her.

She was once one of the most beloved and respected people at Cornel. She always cooked the most delicious meals for every child and teacher, constantly reminding us to take good care of ourselves. I still remember how her dishes were always everyone’s favorite. After work, a group of us teachers would gather together, rush into her kitchen, and clear out whatever leftovers were in the fridge. The next day, she would tease us, saying a group of big mice had raided her refrigerator and eaten everything. These moments have now become treasured memories.

I still remember that red door — I would ring the bell and wait there until she came and welcomed me in. From the balcony on the third floor, we could always hear her calling out, reminding us to ride our scooters carefully. All of this has now come to an end with her passing. (I always thought she would be there waiting for me to visit, to sit and chat about the old days.)

May Gu Ma be free from pain and labor in the world beyond.
We will remember you forever.