Mely and Mercy

Continuing our APY-Gagalangin's 24th anniversary celebration, allow me to pay tribute to two AP Elders who were there during our group's infancy period: Emelina "Mely" Co and Mercedes "Mercy" Isla.

While preparing for my formal investiture as a member, Sis. Lita Aquino, AP Choir Organist (a role she shared with the late Tita Baby Buenaventura), asked me if I would like to join the choir in the summer of 1988. I accepted the offer and in that choir I met Sis. Mely who came across as a pleasant colleague.  I learnt that she has a son, Rumel,  who was an altar server, and a daughter, Rushelle, who would later become an APY the following year. (In the choir, I also met other young members such as Herminia Castillo and siblings Ma. Christina and Ma. Angelita Biado.  I later invited a classmate in Letran, Jonathan De la Llana to join us after our investiture as members. Initially, we never thought of setting up the APY as a separate entity. However, from the choir came the core group that would bring APY into birth.)  Sis. Mercy would join us a few months later.

Our closeness with these two ladies intensified when APY was finally inaugurated.  Both lived quite near the church - Sis. Mely in Pampanga Street while Sis. Mercy in Sunog Apog.  Apart from seeing them in choir rehearsals and Masses, we would often be talking to them - Sis. Mely especially when we would see Rushelle.  

Sis. Mely wasn't the strict type of person and so it was easy for us to relate with her.  Although we had an Adviser from the AP Elders, Sis. Mely became the shadow adviser as she was always there when we had our vigils before the Blessed Sacrament every last (?) Saturday of each month, our Pabasa every Holy Wednesday/Maundy Thursday, our Visita Iglesia every Maundy Thursday, summer outings, and other activities.  More often than not, when there is no available room in the parish center, we would hold our meetings in her house - even on short notice!  We were always welcome in their place!

Apart from that, she would hear from us or even witness how we were treated by her fellow AP Elders, a handful of officers particularly.  Her late husband, Bro. Ruben, who was a devotee of the Blessed Sacrament, would encourage us every now and then to spend time adoring our Lord in the appearance of bread. 

Such was the relationship we have with Sis. Mely that when we were told to choose another adviser (following a complaint we made against our current adviser) she was our only choice. It wasn't an easy task for her to accept though due to the politics in the AP at that time (e.g. Her predecessor is the AP Elders President's daughter). True to her name, she worked hard to make us feel looked after. To make us feel that we indeed have a Nanay. 

When I had a rift with the AP Elders (there were several that previously happened, but this one was the last straw that broke the camel's back), it was Sis. Mely that I spoke to and handed in my resignation.  She didn't convince me to reconsider because she understood my situation.

Sis. Mercy (also known as Sis. Didi), on the other hand, got involved in the APY because of her closeness with Sis. Mely.  A widow with already grown up kids, we would often invite her to a number of our activities.  Realizing that we need as much support from our elders, we saw it fit to appoint another adviser in the person of Sis. Mercy. As her name would suggest, this soft-spoken and humble lady is someone who wouldn't jump into conclusion straightaway.  Furthermore, like Sis. Mely, she was kwela!

When I left APY, I still worked with these two women through the Cofradia de San Jose where each of us were elected to various posts: Sis. Mercy as Vice President (later she would become President), Sis. Mely as Assistant Secretary (later she would become Secretary), and me as Youth Chair (and later as Auditor). I also worked with Sis. Mercy on collating parish organization's history during my short stint as Parish Centennial Chair a decade ago.

In a Leadership Training I attended together with other APY Prexies in the Archdiocese of Manila ages ago, I learned that activities are not enough to keep the group moving.  Building up relationships matter.  This, both Sis. Mely and Sis.Mercy generously and unconditionally nurtured us.

Thank you, our beloved mothers for your dedication and support.  Wherever you are, may the Sacred Heart of Jesus,whose zeal and mercy for souls you have shown, continue to bless you and yours!

Our Center and Rest

The image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus has adorned most if not all Catholic Filipino homes. When Nidz and I tied the knot one of the wedding gifts we received was a statue of the Sacred Heart of Our Lord which I brought to the UK when I migrated here six years ago. It is now hung foyer welcoming anyone who enters and bids adieu (and blesses) those who would leave.

At the start of the day, as I make my way to the kitchen (which is next to the stairs), I bow down before it, expressing my thanks to the Lord for another day and offering myself for His glory and the good of others. As I switch the lights off at night, I bow down once again before that image thanking God for guiding me throughout the day and asking to send His angels to watch over us as we sleep.

When we were kids, there’s this image of the Sacred Heart in our living room. One evening, as we were all in the living room, we heard a noise and a cry – Nicola (a younger sister) was tumbling down from the stairs. She was 1 or 2 years old then. My dad was furious to find out that we didn’t look after her and punished me and my other brother Gio (being the older siblings) by kneeling in front of the image for God knows how long!

The Lord’s heart has been a symbol of His love for us. Yet it also invites us to make God the center or core (from the Latin cor = heart) of our lives.

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, may You be the center of our lives, of our homes, of our country, of our Church, and of our world. Amen.

***

When thinking of the Sacred Heart (whose feast will be celebrated this 19th June), I couldn’t fail to recall St Augustine who once said (to the Lord) “Our heart is restless until it rests on you”.

This saying brought me to another ‘dimension’ when I became a father. During Chiara’s first few days and weeks she was the ‘cuddly’ type of baby. You couldn’t put her on the crib for long. I could find myself ‘locked up’ carrying her while she sleeps. But I’m happy that she is at peace in either her Mom’s or Dad’s arms.


As a father I find that a blessing to be entrusted with a child. It is challenging. You have to be on your toes 24/7. It is a restless endeavour. Yet looking at how this beautiful baby entrusts herself to her parents and, as a result, be at peace I realized how much I needed God, how much I should seek Him so I too could find that rest.

The 21st of June will be my first Fathers’ Day. Looking back in the previous 9 months, I have stumbled on many occasions and sometimes felt depressed for not being a good father. Yet each day, as I bow before the Sacred Heart of Jesus, my scared and scarred heart is assured of His love, His presence, His grace. May He also touch the hearts of all dads this Fathers’ Day and always.

Happy Fathers’ Day, compadres!

***

Belated 20th foundation anniversary to the Apostleship of Prayer - Youth of the St Joseph de Gagalangin Parish on the 2nd of June. May the Sacred Heart of Jesus continue to animate you in your service to God's people.

Sunog!!!

Apart from the stench of neighbouring Smokey Mountain, the noise of jeepneys, trucks, and stereos, and the rosary of side-car drivers along T Earnshaw Street, this cry have been an attraction to Gagalangineños. An old lady once reminded her grand daughter, who was living in Tondo, that that district has been known to be easily caught in fires. Indeed, in the years that I have been its resident, Gagalangin has its share of fires. Allow me to recall at least two incidents.

February 10, 1989. The Apostleship of Prayer Choir, where I was a member (youngest at that time!), was scheduled to a practice after the 6:30pm Mass. Electric power was cut so the rehearsal was called off. As we were walking down Juan Luna Street, we heard news that fire broke out in Maria Guizon Street.

The next day, as I went to church for the dawn procession in honour of Our Lady of Lourdes, the town was completely enveloped in untold darkness. Lighted candles were the only ones that guided our bare feet in walking through the main road. Fr Mario Enriquez, parish priest then, was so inspired by the incident that he said Mass without his shoes on. Before concluding the Mass, he called on people to assist the fire victims.

Jonathan de la Llana, a colleague, whispered to me, “Nasunugan sila Herminia.” Herminia was another parish colleague who lives in Laguna Extension. We never thought that the fire would go as far as her area. Fire fighters struggled as they were prevented by a mass of shanties that blocked their way. We saw Herminia that night; she and her folks were temporarily housed in Torres High School. Other victims were provisional housed in other public schools. One could not fully believe how a big piece of property with an awful lot of houses has been converted overnight into an empty wilderness. Weeks later, people began returning to their charred homes. Life has to go on for them.

Sometime in 1999. While washing the dishes the phone rang. I went rushing to answer it. Nidz, then my fiancée, was on the other line. She told me that there was fire in their neighbourhood. In a flash, I went to Maria Guizon, where she used to stay with her brother and his family. The junction of North Bay and Juan Luna was blocked by fire trucks and people – uzis (onlookers) included. Maria Guizon was impassable so I did some short-cuts via Laguna Street. Kuya Johnny, Nidz’s older brother, was outside the house. He was relieved to see me. As I entered their home, I saw their belongings already packed ready to be moved if worse come to worst. In a little while, fires that were about to take its toll in Maria Guizon were subdued, thanks to the firemen and concerned residents.

Fires have been like a television show to us. They could send a chill down our spines. They could make our adrenaline rise up that we can carry a refrigerator alone should fires hit us. They could entertain (which might be a reason why people, once “Sunog!” is heard, start to look for it and then see it for themselves regardless if the incident is far from where they live). They could inform and teach us - how careless or evil their perpetrators have been; how incompetent our fire department is (Gagalangin has a fire station which has a bad record in the past. I just don’t know if it has been overhauled. At the moment, there is San Jose de Gagalangin Fire volunteers based in Cavite Street.); how some of the town’s area have been maintained (or neglected); how we should be careful of causing fires (As a cliché goes, “Hindi na baleng masunugan ka, huwag ka lang pagmulan ng sunog.”.); etc.

Fires could bring a community closer together. But should this be the only case?