When I was 13 and a green belt at Sung Ming Shu, Mary moved to Atlanta and became the head instructor of the school.  At the time she was already the highest ranked woman in the style at 3rd degree.  In the years that followed she molded and guided Sung Ming Shu with a personal force that was uniquely feminine and in the perfect spirit of Cuong Nhu.  When I returned from college years later and began my training again, I found a school where women were inspired and motivated to a degree that I had never seen in my exploration of other martial arts. Even today, my kids classes have more girls than boys, and I can see the glow of wonder that comes over my little girls when they first hear a story that starts with "my first master was Master Mary Davis Cates..." Her belt will always hang here next to Ernie's, and her life will always inspire the students who hear her stories and have her teachings passed down to them.

Hello Friends and Family,
      These past years I've come to learn a lot of things.  One is that I'm not wise. It's comforting somehow to say so. I guess the lowering of expectations always is.
      I enjoy the company of wise people, though.  People like Dad and Mary.  Which leads me to one of my word picture analogy things.  Indulge me, please, and listen to one of my daydreams.  As usual it came to me during a motorcycle ride.
      My Dad actually is a great man.  Everybody knows it.  I'm very proud of the fact that he is genuinely wise.  In this daydream he radiates this as light.
      I can see this light from a distance and walk to it.As I approach there's Dad on the "sitting" rock of their front lawn.  He's wearing his gi and he's smiling.  He shakes my hand.  He mentions the beautiful day, asks how the bike is running, and what's my son Ernie doing? I rattle my answers standing in the light and realize the smell of flowers, not strong, just pleasant, floating in the warm air, heated by the light. A warm, Spring feel. Subtle flowers, yet undeniable. I look to Dad's front to see a flower bed. Flowers of many different kinds, all random, colorful and perfect. Of course, there is Mary tending them. She stands, her knees all dirty, a smudge on her face, her hair is wind blown, gloves on her hands. I tell her that her flowers are beautiful and awesome. I mean this as high praise for hard work. She says that yes, they are beautiful. "I just love them." She hugs me and returns to work. She took no credit, didn't even realize my compliment.  It was to her a simple fact we shared.
      My minds eye sees the whole picture now. Dad with his light on Mary's flowers, Mary in her humble efforts nurturing living things. Dad, amused at her methods, teasing her, smiling all the while.
      Of course the weakness of my mind reminds me that this is more of my picture thinking, that it started with a ride and now I'm really in the kitchen facing pain as I always do, with a pen and some paper.
      But before I leave this excellent place I look one more time. Dad sitting and smiling, Mary working. She hugs me goodbye and sits on Dad's lap, kisses him and leans her head on his.
      Just before I wave goodbye I notice Dad's gi trousers are rolled up.
      And I see that his feet have taken root with the flowers.

Moose Cates
May 18, 2006

We had just finished an All-Rank workout at Sung Ming Shu Dojo that Mary had led. As custom we all met at Manual’s Tavern for some after class socializing. As usual conversation centered on Martial Arts and catching up with each others daily lives. Mary and I were discussing details of a Kata that we both had been doing for years. She was elaborating on certain details that she had just recently come to understand with greater depth. I was amazed that she was still modifying something that she had already mastered. I looked Mary in the eye and said. “You know you are the only person I have ever met in my life that would attempt to make a diamond harder than it already is”. She just looked back at me and said nothing; she just started a grin that turned into a broad smile. Mary understood that the goal of perfection is unattainable, but striving for that perfection is the goal of a Martial Artist and of a Human Being. I am still learning from the teachings that Mary has given me. Thank you Master Mary Davis-Cates you will always be my Sensei.
Doug Storm

When I was a kid at Sung Ming Shu, there was no such thing as a kid's class.  We tried hard to keep up with the adults, and they tried hard to put up with us.  When it came time to test for green belt, the adults in my class had pulled ahead of me in skill.  Mary sat me down after class a couple of weeks before the test and said, "if you take this test, you will probably pass it, but you may get a 'C' (we got a letter grade back then).  But I think that if you wait and take it in three more months, you can get an 'A'!"  Instantly my sorrow at the suggestion that I might not be as good as the adults in my class was turned into great joy that Sensei Mary believed that I was good enough to get an "A", and I went back to training with renewed confidence and effort.

Strawberries & sweet tea, cats, dogs, and kids, lavander & ginseng, chocolate & chicken wings, Japanese maples and feathers, herbal tea, incense, anchovies, turtles, Ernie, and any beautiful art with heart - these are just some of the things she loved that will always make me think of her. We'll miss her always, even though she is now in the sun and in the wind.

I was still a white belt (plus or minus a green stripe or two) when I came to day class on one occasion. There was Master Mary. I had worked out w/her before and immediately began having some anxiety. Was I prepared for the impending strenuous workout? We bowed in.....(Oh my god, oh my God)....shouted "Gang," and mentally girded up for the worse. "Everybody on the mat!" Master Mary declared. "Now, lie down on your back!" What were we in for?
At this point, Master Mary brought out a book of Zen parables and proceeded to read to us for an hour and a half. This went a long way to help me understand that the martial arts aren't just a physical trial. One must also be prepared to contemplate the reasons and motivations behind one's endeavors.
Stephen Standard