The future belongs to them

In the middle of the rain, before a graduating class of elementary students in far away Sorsogon, I found myself singing like a butanding. First, I did a Bruno Mars by singing Just the Way You Are and the graduating class of the Divine Healer Academy of Sorsogon had a ball watching me sing and, well, dance a little on stage. Then, to keep their parents warm, too, I sang the original Bicolano version of Sarung Banggi. If I did not stop myself, I would have turned the graduation rites into a videoke session. But I knew the main players that day were the young graduates and their parents. I was there as the “misbehaving” inspirational speaker.

After my heartfelt singing, the rain poured harder. But in my mind, that was the only way I could begin to excite the young minds and their parents in my audience. On that day when the rain seemed to be celebrating with the occasion, I decided to double up as an entertainer. It was probably the first time they encountered a guest speaker who entertained the graduates first before delivering his speech. I was so glad I made them all laugh. Never mind if frogs hibernating in the open field behind the stage were literally croaking as I sang — either in appreciation of my voice or in reverence for the whole day outpour.

There was no way the rain would stop that day. No way. But there was also no stopping the Grade 6 students of the Divine Healer Academy in Cabid-an, Sorsogon from getting excited about their graduation day. Because the school quadrangle had no roof, the nuns who run the Catholic school decided to put up toldas (tents) to keep the graduates dry. But the inclement weather persisted that the canopies of the tents, heavy with the rainfall, would gush with splashes of water from time to time.

Even if the ceremonies were taking place in the middle of the rain, the spirits of the 31 graduates and their parents and teachers were so high they seemed to emit the warmth needed that very wet afternoon. The 16 boys and 15 girls graduating that day came from poor families. In fact, many of them, to get to the school compound, had to walk several kilometers amidst the blinding rain — without complaints.

A month before their graduation, Fr. Gerard Deveza, the self-effacing healing priest who founded the school in 2003 by knocking at the doors and gates, on the hearts and souls of Good Samaritans all over the Philippines and all over the world, invited me to deliver an inspirational talk at the graduation rites. It was the second year the school was having its closing exercises. To this day, Fr. Gerard dreams many dreams for the students of the Divine Healer Academy. The school has classes from Kinder to Grade 6. A building was also erected for the high school that started last school year. The academy will have its first batch of high school graduates in 2014. This early, Fr. Gerard says with serene optimism, a college will soon rise in the school property. The priest has an incurable belief in the kindness of people.

The academy now has 292 scholars coming from all levels. All these students are studying for free. Aside from free tuition fee, the underprivileged students at the Divine Healer Academy also get for free their school supplies and bags, books, school uniform and shoes. They are just expected to excel in school and learn in the ways of God.

This early, according to the school directress Sr. Odelia Golloso, SSDH, students of the Divine Healer Academy know how to share. Those who have no packed lunch do not end up with empty stomachs during recess or lunchtime for their classmates share their food with them. That is a common sight at the school canteen.

Dreaming for their future is Fr. Gerard’s priority for the marginalized kids of Sorsogon.

Because of the very good quality of education in Divine Healer Academy, the students of the school observe good manners and right conduct all the time. They excel both in academic subjects and extra-curricular activities. Most of them sing and dance. Many dabble in theater arts, too. Add to that they have good communication skills.

Looking at their faces, it was clear to me that the students are hungry for knowledge, a telltale sign that a future awaits them. I told them and their parents that lucky are those who experience a certain kind of hunger because they will know how to be full one day.

With the indulgence of the graduates and their parents, I read to them my prepared speech — a copy of my 2005 column titled Tsinelas, which, pardon my unintentional bragging, won for me my first trophy in the Catholic Mass Media Awards in 2006.

If I started my speech with songs that kept them warm and laughing in the middle of the rain, I ended it with my audience crying. I did not intend to make them cry. I just told them some truths about dreaming.

Here’s the speech I delivered in the vernacular:

I have a story to tell. This is about a young boy I know. He was born poor to parents who were farmers. When he grew up, however, he was able to meet and mingle with kings and queens, presidents and senators. No magic took place here. This is a real story.

Because this kid was poor, he didn’t have a single toy. He would go to his neighbor’s house to use the toys of his playmates. In school, he barely had notebooks. Even if his mother couldn’t afford to buy him notebooks, this kid persevered to study. This boy was poor but he was rich in fighting spirit.

Often he would go to school without allowance, wearing slippers and tattered uniform. For breakfast, he would fill his glass of coffee with rice. For lunch, he would mash banana and steamed rice. For dinner, he and his four brothers would share one fried egg, divided equally among them.  

One day, he came home from school with the sole of his foot bleeding. He stepped on a broken glass and it pierced through his worn out slippers.

“Nay, please buy me a new pair of slippers,” the boy asked his mother.

“Son, we don’t have money. Just be careful the next time,” said his mother while treating his son’s wound. “One more thing,” his mother added while applying tincture solution on his wound, “please remember that there will come a time when you will be able to buy your new pair of slippers.”  

“How will it happen?” the boy asked his mother.

“Simply believe that you can achieve what you want in life. Just dream,” his mother replied.

When the wound in his sole got healed, his whole body, however, had boils all over. He got these from playing in the sand. He didn’t mind having wounds as long as he could build castles out of the sand. When he had made his sandcastles, he would close his eyes and imagine that he lived in an exquisite castle with lots of food, with a refrigerator, with beautiful slippers.

Because he had plenty of wounds in his arms, legs, even on his head, he was not spared from the bantering of his bully classmates. Even that did not deter him from going to school.

“Don’t mind your classmates. I will go to your school and talk to your teacher. Only your body is wounded, not your brain. Just pay attention to your studies,” his mother advised him.

In time, all his wounds were healed. They left scars all over his body. He graduated from grade school with honors. He continued to study.

He could have not studied high school were it not for his elementary teachers who helped him get a scholarship. This kid was full of ambition, only he had no resources.

So he could go to college, his mother offered a novena to God for him to pass the entrance exam of the University of the Philippines. God heard her prayers and this boy got a scholarship. He was given monthly stipend and book allowance, which he gave to his mother so they could have money. Slowly but surely, his dreams are gradually being realized. 

The kid who imagined that he lived in a sandcastle became a writer. He met, mingled with and wrote stories of people, the movers and shakers of the world that he thought only existed in the sandcastle of his dreamland.  

It may sound proud to listen to the story of this kid. But this is the truth.

He achieved this little success in life because he once dreamed that he would be able to buy pairs and pairs of slippers and shoes; that the wounds of the past would be healed; that there would be food on their table. To this day, this boy continues to dream. 

I am this kid.

(Those who wish to help the children of the Divine Healer Academy of Sorsogon realize their dreams may call Fr. Gerard Deveza at 0917-5382033. For your new beginnings, please e-mail me at bumbaki@yahoo.com or follow me on Twitter @bum_tenorio. Have a blessed Sunday!)