Participants of Paring Bol-anon USA Canada holds their 35th reunion in San Francisco, California USA. The reunion was held on July 26 to 30, 2021. The Paring Bol-non reunion has been an annual gathering of Boholano priests assigned in North America, which was started by 15 priests. Since then, Boholano priests working in USA and Canada have been meeting annually since 1986 except in 2020 due to the pandemic. Activities of the said reunion are centered on liturgy and prayer. More Boholano priests migrate to the USA and Canada to fill the needs of the West, which is suffering from scarcity of priests and church closures. Long before the advent of the internet, the reunions kept the Boholano clerics connected with each other. Boholano priests are bound together traditionally by priestly ordination and seminary formation, and uniquely through music and humor. Indeed the harvest is plenty but the laborers are few. But the 50 Boholano priests who attended the said reunion in San Francisco this year are a testament that the faith which this tiny island of Bohol in the Philippines has, is fully Christian and fully alive. (Fr. Roque “Khing” Vano)

After the Rain, the flower blooms: The Mary Joy story (Part 28 of a Series)

“Ha? Na pud?” I loudly reacted.

“Dimalas gyud ning ahong HAPAS,” I silently said. I said all these because Ma’am Ardy’s decision to drive the van was rekindled and to me, her decision to handle the wheels was not good news.

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.” Maam Ardy blurted out a loud laughter as I admitted nga, “Dimalas gyud ning ahong hapas.”

“Palamuot ra ka Dave. Unsaon gud naho pag drive ron nga hapon na man? Dili ko ganahan mo drive labi na sa ‘tina-i ug manok’ nga daghan ug liko liko. Malipong ta ana. So ayaw na kaguol kay dili lagi ko mo drive kay hapon na. Pero tagu-i pud nang imong hapas ha?” Ma’am Ardy quipped.

“Yeheeeeyyyyy,” was the automatic response which Ruth and I gave to the the decision of Ma’am Ardy. 

And off we sped for Tagbilaran with Randy on the wheels. I could feel the sweet scent of air on our way home. There is really no place like home. There is no place like home. No matter how rough the roads are and bumpy the trip was, every trip back home is always a blessing. 

I heaved a sigh of relief upon Ma’am Ardy’s change of decision that she would not take the wheels. To me, that was the best decision ever for the day. Familiarity of the road is a basic factor in driving. Gikuyawan kaayo ko nga gahunahuna ganiha kung mudayon ba gyud siya ug drive. Just imagine, she is only familiar with the Dauis to Tagbilaran route as this is her daily routine. Yes, she used to drive from Makati to Laguna and even to far Tarlac in Luzon. But that was about 7 to 10 years ago. I know her reflexes are okay, but we are talking of the HERE AND NOW.

Our trip from Tagbilaran to Pilar and back was becoming a sort of an adventure with a lot of things happening at every turn of events. This was a time that surely will be etched in my memory. The trip was something that I would share with everyone.

As we continued to travel back to the city, i looked at the front mirror and saw Ma’am Ardy and Ruth sound asleep. 

“Salamat intawn nga nihananok silang duha aron dili dagaton si Ma’am,” Randy, the driver softly told me as we both noticed that Ma’am Ardy and Ruth were already fast asleep.

Suddenly, the events that transpired in the house of Mary Joy came flashing back to my mind. What is really going to happen to Mary Joy and her family? I could recall how she pleaded for help when she spoke to me. Her speech was captured on record. I wanted to play her plea again while we were on the road, but i did not want to disturb the quiet and calmness of Ma’am Ardy’s sleep.

I was afraid that people may take her condition for granted, and she might feel depressed. As of now, people are at the height, maybe, of their eagerness to see and help the young girl and her family. Will the eagerness to help be sustained? The reality remains that this girl needs everybody’s help: morally, financially, spiritually, legally and socially. How far can she go on? How far can people go to help her? How soon and how far?

“Oy, wait sa . . .  Hunong sa. . . . Time pa. . .  Hunong sa lagi,” was the interruption made by Ma’am Ardy as I became busy with my thoughts.

“Namata na diay ka Ma’am?” I asked.

“Lagi , lagi. . .  hunong sa. Asa ang imong recorder, Dave?” Ma’am Ardy asked.

“Palihug lang, e-replay tong part sa atong interview ni Mary Joy. Naa koy gusting klarohon,” Ma’am Ardy insisted.

(To be continued)