The Manila Times

Grandpa, for his part, taught us patience and gentleness. Daddy and Mommy worked, and we saw them deal with clients. Many times, clients from distant towns ...

But Sunday required that we wear our Sunday best — and that was not really meant to show off, because there was not really much to show off, but to honor the Lord whose day it was. And I shall forever be grateful that we were raised the way we were. Aside from pitching poorly, when I was thrown the ball, it landed wrongly, disabling my pinky — and at that time, I was already a piano pupil, and that disabled me from the piano for some time. We could not afford to buy floor wax, and so it was very common to rub candles along the floor and thereafter polish the floor to a shine. Often, it was "guilty as charged." Jet and I used to play piano duets and I remember that one of them that was particularly delightful was entitled "Qui Vive." — because the echo of the cavernous cathedral and the poor sound system that was available at the time made it a certainty that we caught only snatches of what the poor man of God was trying so hard to get across. The only advantage of having a grandfather for a district supervisor was that we could go to his office and ask for loose change to buy caramay, mangga, or candies from the store of Tiya Litang across the street. I remember having tried baseball, and unfortunately for me, I was the pitcher. "Mano" was the standard mark of respect, and you held the hand of an elder to your forehead. She sternly presided over our studies, checked our notebooks, and saw to it that our notes were up to date. We polished the floor with coconut husks that will be as foreign to youngsters today as a space probe.