By Fr. Efren de Guzman, svd

All over Africa refugees and displaced persons are seeking help. Fr. Efren recently attended a meeting to help those involved in refugee work.

May 9: I arrived in Lusaka, the capital city of Angola, and visited the refugees between the frontiers of Angola and Zambia. I’ve seen some Hutu and Tutsi and some Zairian refugees. Loren Kabila, the new President of Congo, expelled President Mobuto and changed the name of Zaire to Republic of Congo and the people said that what happened to Zaire was just a change of dictators.

May 11: In the evening we started our meeting for Refugee Service for Southern Africa. Our first speaker was the Papal Nuncio Archbishops Prabhu from India. He said that all pastoral services must start from prayerful meditation on the Word of God and refreshment at His Eucharistic Banquet. Otherwise, quoting Mother Teresa of Calcutta, he saidwe would be without a clear perspective. He said that we need to beg the Holy Spirit to tell us what it is that He wants us to do.

May 12: Country Reports

Angola

A threat that the war might start in Northeast of Angola. Some deserters of the government forces and of UNITA are making trouble because of some misunderstanding concerning their status and conditions.

Mozambique

The political will of the government and the opposition is something to admired. One of the signs are the new trees growing in and outside the cities.

South Africa

The only First World country in Africa. There is a huge influx of refugees to South Africa where hey want seek asylum and a better life.

Sierra Leone, Somalia, Sudan and Ethiopia

These countries are still in turmoil due to political military instability.

May 13: We shared our experiences of working with the United Nations Commission of Human Rights in our respective countries. Most of our comments were negative. UN workers are good in making reports but in reality they are not working as well as they should. Example: UNAVEM is spending a million dollar a day in Angola but they couldn’t produce enough receipts for what they are supposed to have spent. Some machines arrived for the task of de-mining but they are all kaput, out of order.

May 14: Reverend Shirley de Wolfe talked about her experiences in working with the child survivors of landmines. She asked the children what are the things that are temporary in their lives. They commented about their clothes, schools, playmates, houses. And she asked again about the things that really last and a child with legs, named Pako, responded: The Friendship of Jesus. There was a long silence and they all cried as she hugged the child.

May 14, afternoon: Sr. Patricia Startuo, our coordinator for Refugee Service, talked about Peace Building and Reconciliation. She referred to Micah 6:8: God had showed you what is good, to do justice, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with our God. She challenged us as refugee volunteers to continue our work for justice to love tenderly and to walk humbly with our God. For Reconciliation, she said, “The ultimate reason for wanting to be reconciled with one another is the conviction that God loves us forever without conditions. And that if we do not reject this love, we will have the capacity to forgive.”

June 24: We are organizing our displaced people, especially the farmers, to help them form a cooperative and to legalize their land and to find markets for their goods. Our big problem is that the majority of them are living in a place where there is no regular supply of water, except rainwater. Our elder name Jose, 62 old, said, “A small measure of faith can produce a large measure of fruits.” And our cathecist, Saco, the leper, seconded his thought. “Yes, what is the key to our journey through life? When we know what Christ wants us to be and do, we must take the first step of obedience.”

June 29: We have a big celebration in Cacuaco – the birthday of St. John the Baptist. With the help of fishermen we were able to have our procession on the sea by using their boats. Some older devotees threw some bread and wine in the sea as we clapped our hands in singing to remember their ancestors.

July 1: My deep gratitude for your prayers and support for our mission work, especially for the young children who survived landmines, the children of internal refuges whose parents are unemployed or have no land and the orphans.

An inner Song in you
Sometimes not heard at all
But within your heart it’s whispering
Of something beyond words to say.
It whispers: feel and remember
For gratitude is the memory of your heart
For the times and moments to begin

And to renew the afterglow.
An inner song in You
Yearning to sing aloud
As your heart beats; to dance
As you sings and live the song of Love.

By Fr. Joseph Panabang, svd

Africa is often described as the “white man’s grave” because of Malaria. A glance at the history of early missionaries all over the continent shows that many did not last a week, but that was before the discovery of anti-malaria tablets. With modern medicines now, things are changing.

You’ll Get Used to It

As a young missionary to Ghana, West Africa, after eleven years in the field, I am so grateful to God that in spite of having malaria three to five times a year, I am still alive. If you are new, naturally you will have malaria more often but the longer you stay, the lesser you will be attacked as your defense system gets stronger.

Last Sacrament

Two times I administered the Last Sacrament of fellow missionaries with serious malaria. First, to a Sister and then to a fellow priest. And praise to God, both came back to life stronger than ever. Since that time on I believe that the Last Sacrament of the Sick is not only meant to prepare us for the next world but is meant also to heal us for this world – if that’s God’s will.

In the Maternity Ward

On my part, several times I was rushed to the hospitals conscious, semi-conscious and unconscious. The last time, I was unconscious and was lucky enough to have the tender loving care of a good Filipino medical sister, Sr. Linda Banson. Unfortunately, the hospital was full and they had to place me wherever a bed was available. Early morning, I was awakened by cries of many babies. I could not sleep anymore no matter how I tried. I wanted to find out where I was so I raised my head, and to my surprise, I was in the midst of women; some feeding their newborn babies, some cuddling and hushing. Where was I? I was right at the Maternity Ward. No wander all the women there could not hide their feeling – a mixture of shock, curiosity and amusement. I suspected some of them were looking for my child for it seemed they did not recognize me right away as a man, only when my nurse called me “Father” did the rest burst into laughter.

‘My Beloved Malaria’

Natural instinct compels us to detest sickness. But my frequent bouts with malaria through the years taught me that getting annoyed by this type of illness seems to make it worse. So, foolish as one might think it is, I would rather welcome it when it comes; accept it as a mission companion ad even address it as ‘my beloved’. “Why are you smiling?” my doctor asked me during his visit. As I lay on the flat of my back I muttered, “Because now I am resting. Had it not been for malaria, I would be in my villages working.”

A Good Initiator

Truly malaria is a good initiator to new missionaries in Ghana (or perhaps Africa in general). What our initiators leave undone, malaria does. When a new missionary gets malaria people would say, “Now, you are one with us.” It is the first step to full acceptance and being one with the people. Through it one comes to understand, feel and live closer to the way the local people live. And of course it was in those days at the hospital that the Reverend Sisters would come and piously advice me, “Father, take the illness as your share in the suffering of Christ.” One Sister even spanked me for throwing up almost immediately after taking chloroquin. She said, “Father, don’t throw up the medicine, it is against the vow of poverty.”

Thank God for Mosquitoes

Yes, indeed, I had compassion, love and solidarity from and with my fellow missionaries and local people in my confinement in the hospitals. Malaria after all is like a true friend coming with those messages above. Now, I understand what at first seemed to be a silly question, “Have you ever thanked God for mosquitoes?”

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Made in USA

Recommended by the Holy Spirit Sisters, I went to a hair dresser’s shop owned by a certain Mrs. Mary Agyan-Gyau in Fiapre, a suburb of Sunyani. Mary spent a long time in the USA and learned her trade there.” So you are a USA-made hair dresser?” I tease which she happily acknowledges. “And your name is Mary? I supposed your husband is Joseph?” “Yes, he is Joseph-Gyau and we met in the States,” she said to my surprise. After cutting my hair, she said proudly, “Now father, do you want to look at your back?” “How can I, my eyes are I front?” I replied. Chuckling, she gave me a big mirror. After looking myself from behind, I blurted, “Ah, I never knew I look more handsome from my back.” Mary continued laughing together with her apprentices walking around like nurses in their white uniforms and head caps.

HANDS ON

At Sunyani, capital of Brong-ahaho Region, I was among the priests celebrating the Eucharistic Congress. During the consecration or epiclesis (the moment when the priests raise their hands over the chalice), as soon as we spread our hands, I saw two small girls at our back also raising their hands. Giving them a stern look I wagged my head; they stopped at once fear stricken. I hope they also saw my smile.

TRIAL AND ERROR

A husky man coming to buy one of the second hand reading glasses asked me, “How do you sell them, father?” “Trial and error,” I replied. “So there are errors there?’ he answered back. I explained, “Just try all of them and get the one that suits your eyes best since we do not have the means to measure the grades of your eyes.” That is what “trial and error” means.

AS WE GROW OLD

Our Holy Spirit Sisters from Damong Hospital in Northern Ghana stopped in Kintampo with the same problem of their old dilapidated car; the problem was the clutch. “The clutch is always giving trouble. I cannot understand,” complained one of the sisters. Standing in front, I pulled up one of my trouser legs and pointing to my knee said, “This is our clutch; when we are old, it get weak.” The Sisters enjoyed that.

ST. MICHAEL, HELP US

Our Chour Master in Kitampo seemed not to be in good terms with me. Being the choir master for so long even before I came to Kitampo, It is understandable that he might feel put out. Sensing the relationship getting more strained, one of the Choir master’s relatives who was to me commented, “Be careful, Lucifer was the Choir master in heaven and lead the choir to revolt against God. Now they are all in hell unable to sing because too much heat from the fire.” I laughed at the inflated comparison. I’m no St. Michael.

NISSAN FOR THE OFFERTORY

Because my Nissan double-cabin car got a breakdown, I brought our big car to Chiranda, one of my smallest villages along a highway. The people were surprised and were saying, “Eh….why bring a such big car?” Because I know during the Mass, you will have plenty of offerings.” True enough, with this prodding, they made numerous offerings. After all the Church cannot live by homilies alone.

By Rex Rocamora, Columban deacon

Last December 29, 1998, Archbishop Jesus Tuquib ordained Jude Genovia and Rolando Aniscal priests in St. Augustine’s Metropolitan Cathedral in Cagayan de Oro. More than a thousand people including 97 priests attended the celebration. Archbishop Jesus Diosdado of Ozamis, Msgr. Des Hartford of Marawi Prelature and Msgr. Tex Legitimas, the Rector of the Cathedral, were there. The Columbans were represented by people from many different countries.

For the Columbans and for the families of Jude and Rolando, it was a family celebration. People came from the town of Karomatan from Jimenez in Misamis Oriental and from Sinacaban and other towns.

The ordination ceremony began at 10:00 AM on a sunny Tuesday morning and ended at 12:30 PM. The procession of priests from the door to the altar was led by the Corpus Christi Dance Group with their lovely costumes and expressive gesture – a mixture of T’boli, Monobo and Moslem cultures. The ceremony was beautiful. The liturgy was in Cebuano; on the vestments s of the two new priests was written: “Bayan Umawit ng Papuri.”

Archbishop Tuquib’s homily was centered on Christ, the teacher, priest and shepherd. Like Christ, the new priests will come to serve and not be served, to preach the Good News to God’s people and to celebrate the Eucharist. Or, as Fr. Dick Pankratz reflected: Columbans around the world strive to fulfill the Words of Christ, “I have come that they may have life, life to the full.”

After the ceremony, all were invited to Lourdes College auditorium (a five-minute walk from the Cathedral) for the reception. The first Mass of Rolly was on the following day, Dec. 30, and that of Jude on Dec. 31. We would like to extend our thanks to Fr. Dick Pankratz for the organization of the whole even and to the people, family and relatives of Jude and Rolly who made the occasion not only possible but also memorable. There are now 7 ordained Filipino Columbans. Jude is assigned to Korea and Rolly to Peru.

It was my first time to join a Christian songwriting contest, and it took me several days to finish the song. The theme of the contest was “Holy Spirit, renew the face of the earth.” In the middle of the song, I hit a slump. I didn’t know how to finish it.

As I contemplated on the theme and what it meant to me, I closed my eyes. Immediately I saw a vision. It was daybreak, the sun was just rising over the hills. I saw in my mind a multitude of people on a mountaintop calling to the Holy Spirit in supplication and praising the glory of God. The view was breathtaking: rolling hills, verdant forests, wide open plains and, in the distance, tiny villages. All of these are God’s creation.

The vision stirred something in my memory that had to do with my cousin Richie.

Richie Fernando, sj, died a martyr’s death in Cambodia on October 17, 1996. He was killed by a grenade blast at the Center of, the name of his mission. It’s a foundation for disabled former military and policemen injured in the war. Richie died trying to stop a troubled student from lobbing a grenade into a classroom full of disabled students. Richie had tried to restrain the ex-soldier by embracing hi. The grenade exploded, fragmenting Richie’s skull and spine. By embracing the disturbed student, my cousin saved the lives of many. But in exchange he had to give up his own. In Cambodia, conventional wisdom maintains that there is one landmine planted for every Cambodian. The Jesuits mission that my cousin belonged to ran a technical institute that trained Cambodian victims of these landmines to become useful members of the society.

Richie worked with the victims for 18 months before he died. At the tine, he said something that turned out to be prophetic: “I choose to with the handicapped. I realize I have a lot to be thankful for, that’s why I am enjoying life these days.”

Did he have an idea of what was in store for him? Was he trying to tell us about his impending death? We will never know. But five day before he died, on October 12, he wrote this letter to his friend, Father Totet Banaynal, sj, who was then a brother:

“I only have the will to cause thins to happen. Maybe my will is powerful enough. I know where my heart is...it is with Jesus Christ. Jesus who gave His all for the poor, the sick, the orphan. I feel as if I’m beginning to understand more when I say: I want to be like Christ; I will follow Jesus; I’m Jesus’ friend and companion; I am a Jesuit; I know where my heart is.

I remember you shared before that ‘I can die for Cambodia.’ I honestly believe that to die fro our poor friends here will be the greatest gift that God can give us. And I continually pray for that grace every day.

I discovered my life is not a project nor a program. I know I can choose and will things to happen. But in the end, my life is a grace, filled with surprises. It becomes sweeter when I accept and appreciate my life as it is... and our friendship... it wasn’t a project. I was grace and we build on that grace.”

Richie may have seemed in a hurry to heed God’s call but in truth, he said, “God is the one who is in hurry for me.”

Smiling, I opened my eyes. I knew now how I was going to finish my song. As my vision cleared, it alighted on a framed photograph I had placed on the wall – a photo of Richie, Spirit-filled, hands out-stretched, on top of a mountain, praising the Lord.

I titled my song Call to the Spirit

CALL TO THE SPIRIT

Come Holy Spirit come
Come Holy Spirit come
Come with your might and your power
Come Holy Spirit come
Come Holy Spirit come
Fill the hearts with your fire.
The Spirit of Promise is here

He dwells in our hearts were He’s always near
He is the Life that’s in you and me
Who give us the strength to live faithfully
Share His joy,
His joy will wipe away every tear
Bring His peace,
With His peace there will be no fear Spread His love,
Love will bring us His Kingdom here
Praising Him throughout the year!
Praising Him year after year!

The song CALL TO THE SPIRIT won the coveted grand prize in the Joyful Category of the Dasal Awit II contest held at the Araneta Coliseum. The Dasal Awit is a project of the Catholic Music Foundation to promote Catholic Music. All the song so the grand finalists are contained in a cassette tape album entitled A CALL OF THE SPIRIT. Catholic Music Foundation, Inc. can be reached at tel. 722 6576 or 724 2946.

By Fr. Luis Sabarre, omi

Fr. Luis Sabarre is Filipino OMI ministering in Argentina. He began in a frontier parish and later moved to Buenos Aires, the capital city of Argentina. He has been involved in the Marriage Encounter but he also helps in the struggle of the aboriginal people who are called the Wichis and Pilajas, These are the original inhabitants of the land. He says they are like our Manobos and Tibolis in the Philippines. In this article he tells us to the death of a dear Filipino companion. We hope some other time he will share with us about his work with the Wichis and Pilajas. [Editor]

Twelve years ago in the land of the ‘gauchos’, my classmate, Fr. Teofilo Faustino arrived to our Oblate Mission in Argentina. I remember how previously in my first trip back home in the Philippines in 1983 on the occasion of my mother’s funeral, I had talked with him about my work here in Argentina. He got interested with my story and with a little push he assured me that after a year or two he would consider volunteering for missions. Though indeed during his 15 years in the Philippines he had worked on the mission because surely Jolo and Cotabato can be called missions. Apart from that he had done Trojan work as vocation animator and there is no more difficult work than that as any priest can tell you. In fact it was he, Teofilo, who recruited Juan de Jesus who later became the Bishops of Jolo and was tragically assassinated there a few years ago.

Doing the Barrios

So on May 25, 1985 Teofilo arrived in Argentina and was assigned to a mission station in the Northwest of Argentina among the people living in the frontierland with Chile. He used to go on horseback to the barrios accompanies by guides for the difficult trails and rivers he had to cross. Although his presence was only felt during the times of novenas and fiastas, the people appreciated very much his visits so much so that some times they had asked him to stay several days with them. It used to be that way in the Philippines back in the sixties.

Freak Accident

In the year 1987 a freak accident made him feel weak. He was intoxicated with carbon monoxide due to a faulty chimney which served as a heating device during the coldest winter months. He slept for more that 16 hours straight, as a result of the poisoning. It was indeed a miracle that he survived and recovered.

Last Illness

Exactly ten years afterwards, a lingering throat ache convinced him to have a general check-up. It was at this moment that the medical doctors advised him to have an operation or chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer. He opted for the chemotherapy treatment which lasted for more than six months. He finally succumbed to that incurable disease on June 15, 1997. It was then I wrote the following letter to our superior...

Dear Phil,

I intended to write you earlier when we came back from the cemetery where we buried Teofilo, but many things came up to be attended to urgently. Teofilo passed away on June 15th at 9:20 PM. I was at his bedside and I was able o give him the last rites. He was so glad to see me and managed to extend his hand to press mine. I stayed with him until early morning. At midday they gave him a shot of morphine to calm down his pains. He was conscious the whole afternoon but late in the evening he started to fall asleep and breathe slowly...until he gave his final breathe. That night we prayed the office for the dead and had vigil. Fortunately I was able to get in touch with his family in New Jersey by long distance phone.

The Auxiliary Bishop of Buenos Aires presided at the funeral Mass with 15 priests, Oblates, diocesan and other congregations. The Provincial gave the homily and blessed the coffin at the end. At the cemetery, I gave the final blessing and farewell to Teofilo, my companion, my classmate and my friend.

May God reward him for his missionary endeavors in the Philippines and Argentina. Hasta Pronto, Teofilo!

By Sr. Mercina, mc

Two years ago the world mourned the death o Mother Teresa, Mother Teresa has become a symbol of the care we ought o have for the abandoned the world. Her many followers continue her work; among them are three young Filipino women who have joined the Missionaries of Charity of Mother Teresa and now live in Calcutta India.

There are three of us Filipino MCs in India. Two are in motherhouse (Sr. Pia and Sr.Jonamile); they came just recently. They are engaged in helping the administrative work. I am working with Adoption her in Shishu Bhavan, Calcutta, the biggest center among all our centers.

Free Medical Service

We have the malnutrition center for the sick and undernourished children. Most of these children have parents and they are brought to us for treatment. When they get well we discharge them. Our hospital is for the poorest of the poor, irrespective of the caste, creed or nationality. We charge no fees. Two pediatricians come daily to look after the children who are sick.

Homeless Children

The other section is the orphanage. It has nearly 400 children. These are either abandoned and brought to us by the police or unwanted children that were given to us by unwed mothers for social reasons. The children are given in adoption to carefully chosen homes. Some children are handi-capped. For these we look for very special homes, people who are willing to give them extra love and attention.

They Grow Up Well

It is always exciting to hear news of how they are doing, growing up so well-adjusted and integrated into the family which took them. This is indeed a source of tremendous joy for the naturally, for us too.

By Bo Sanchez

I now realize that joy or misery is a choice that we have to make daily. This came to me strongly when one day I was driving in Novaliches with my family to visit some relatives. Because of the enormous road work there, we got lost taking alternative routes. Besides, Novaliches is famous for an amazingly circuitous network of streets, reminding me of my intestines. “Can you help us find this address?” my Mom asked a guy driving a little jeep. “Sure,” he said, “Follow me. I’m going in that direction.”

Long and Winding Road

And we did: For about two hours! He led us through the inner labyrinths of Novaliches. Through dark alleys. Through pot holes. Through dirt roads. In total, we took 32 rights, 47 lefts, and 13 U-turns. All the while, my family was complaining like crazy. “Were lost!” they whined. “Oh, why all these roadworks at the same?” another grumbles. “And there was a tense-filled pause. Finally, one family member said, “Oh my God. We’re being kidnapped! We’re being kidnapped by that man!” (Divulging identities of who said what has proven hazardous to my health, so I’ll refrain from mentioning names here.)

I laughed and said, “C’mon, the guy doesn’t look like a kidnapper at all!” “Really? Good!” sighed everyone. “He’s no kidnapper,” I shook my head, “I think he’s serial killer.” Boy, were they mad and miserable.

Thrilling Adventure

What was I doing all this time? Aside from driving for them, I was singing. I was having the time of my life. I was excited making those zigzags. Under my breath, I prayed, I prayed, “Lord, I thank you that I feel like Indiana Jones trapped in a maze. What a thrilling adventure.” Gradually, I was thanking God for blessing us. I was thanking God for those rare times that I’m with my family, no matter how crazy they can be. I was thanking God for my car. I was thanking God for the relatives we were visiting. I was thanking God for sending us an angel as our guide, using a serial killer to lead our way. Because I was so busy being grateful, I realized I didn’t have time to be miserable.

Joy or Misery

When we finally reached the home of our relatives, my family stepped down from the car with angry exasperation. And that was when the real performance began. (All the complaining they did in the car was just dress rehearsal.) “We had a terrrrrrrrrrible time!” as they were replaying their sad ordeal to them, I opened the door, step down, stretched my tired muscles and smiled, “Ahhh! Now was that exciting or what?”

You know what? One week after, every time my family got together, they’d still grumble and relive the agony of that trip. (At some special days, the “Nightmare in Novaliches” had matinee shows in the afternoons and main performance in the evening.)

But I recall the event with sweetness. And fun. Because every morning, I face the mirror and tell myself. “Bo, no one can take away my joy. This is the day that the Lord had made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Because I believe that in every trial, there’s treasure waiting to be unearthed.

Salamat sa Kerygma

Available at Supermarkets –P25.00

By Fr. Wens Padilla, CICM

When the Wall came down in Europe in 1989 many countries opened up for the first time in years. Mongolia was one of these. The new Mongolian government asked the Vatican to send missionaries. The Vatican asked CICM and CICM asked Fr. Wens Padilla, them working in Taiwan. Along with a team Fr. Wens, a Filipino, was the first catholic missionary to return to Mongolia since 1920's.  It is a tiny Catholic community centered on helping street children. Here Fr. Padilla takes a look at the exciting and exotic countryside of outer Mongolia, home to the two hump camel ad the famous blue sheep!

By Sr. Pilar Verzosa, rgs

Ester’s Story

When Ester’s parents learned of her pregnancy, they wasted no time in decreeing that she be locked up in her bedroom with neither visitors nor callers allowed and with the ready tale that she had ovarian cyst. That was to explain the bulging tummy at the start. She was a prisoner in her own room. But more than the four walls which kept her, a chain of bigger yet unseen things kept her I bondage.

Many Chains

Her parents were horrified of what their friends and relatives would think if they found out that their 23-year-old single daughter was pregnant. That was the chain of pride. Hence, the concocted story that she was sick. The chain of deception, unable to face the responsibility of having a child and the ire of his girlfriend’s parents, Ester’s boyfriend left her soon enough. The chain of betrayal. What was to happen to her and to her baby? What future would they both have? The chain of anxiety. And finally, with the world closing in on her and nothing at all left in her control, Ester thought she would do well to kill herself. The chain of despair. Chain after chain locked as the weeks turned into months.

Choose Life

Suicide started just as a thought, but since no more was there to talk to her and give her hope, this thought became a powerful force which took over her will. With a blade poise at her wrist, Ester sat in her bedroom to end her life. All of the sudden, the life inside her kicked hard, as if trying to jolt her to her right sense. “Choose life!” the baby said.

The blade fell from her hand and Ester started crying her heart out, realizing that Jesus was there watching over her. “It was not an intimidating presence, but a merciful one. The kick was actually the Lord talking to me, consoling me and perhaps even forgiving and understanding my pangs of despair”

Turning Point

It became the turning point in Ester’s Life, for then she knew that inspite of her aloneness, Jesus’ presence was very real. She called out to him and turned over her life to Him, seeking His forgiveness and mercy for her sins. “Grace was at work,” henceforth Ester says. When she delivered her baby in a hospital, the only bed available was next to that of a nun and beneath a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mother Mary. The encouraging words of the nun she heard in her ears and Mary she heard in her heart.

The responsibility of raising up a son was difficult, but she had decided that with God’s grace she would bring him up correctly. Ester continued to work for a living and stood as both father and mother to Jimmy. As far as value formation was concerned, she drilled repeatedly to the boy: “God first.”

Does Love Kill?

One day, three year old Jimmy came up to his grandfather and asked, Does love kill?” Taken by surprise, Lolo was not able to answer the little boy. After thinking for a moment, Jimmy offered his own conclusion, “Love can kill evil.”

The love of Jesus killed evil in Ester’s life at that moment of conversion, before that and ever after that, up till now. Salvation goes on. And what mother and son have experienced, they are sharing through their respective ministries.

Healing After Healing

Jimmy is now a 26-year-old special education teacher who ministers to children with hearing problems and to children damaged by their broken families. Ester goes around the country lecturing on dysfunctional families, giving retreats and workshops even to nuns, teachers and psychologists themselves. She also fosters babies and does counseling work. Quite a loadful of work, but the rewards have been great because time and again she sees people turning around to Lord – ‘crisis families’ being reconciled, broken single parents being healed, single expectant mothers finding hope. Restoration after restoration. Healing after healing. Miracle after miracle. Great things beyond reach of one’s knowledge.

For now, Ester says, “My role is to help them find their salvation history.” How in their lives, Jesus love can kill evil.

Care and Share Center

Pregnant? There is help. Care and Share Center offers counseling to women in distress over a pregnancy they did not expect. It was set up by Pro-life Philippines Foundation and Living Mary’s Messages Foundation five years ago. Every year, the Center receives over 3, 000 calls through its telephone hotline numbers. Of this, about 60% are pregnancy-related problems and the rest are about mental conflict, boy-girl relationships, or personality problems. Besides the full-time receptionist-counselor, there are trained volunteer counselors who respond with compassion and efficiency to whoever calls. The callers are encouraged to visit the Center for free pregnancy test or referral to medical, legal, psychological, spiritual specialists or to maternity homes.

By Sr. Vilma Juaneza, cm

Malawi is a small country in Africa. The official language is English, but Chichewa is the real language of the people. It is a very poor country with a colonial economy. A great percentage of its economic income is concentrated in Lilongwe, the capital, a very large and beautiful city with splendid gardens, tall buildings, well-paved roads and highways and a good airport. However, a few kilometers away, the specter of poverty greets the eyes: famished faces, people in tattered clothing, inhuman dwellings AIDS, cholera, malaria and malnutrition.

Mtengo Wa Nthenga

Two communities are situated close to these suffering people. Mtengo Wa Nthenga was founded in 1979. Here, six Carmelite Sisters – three Spaniards, one Filipino and an Indian – do their utmost for the inhabitants. To this mission center hundreds of patients flock daily. The poorest are the ones who usually become victims of all these epidemics.

Hunger in Kapiri

One hour ride from this community, towards the west, is Kapiri where we settled in 1974. Five sisters compose the community; three Spaniards, one Filipino and an African. Hunger gets worse because of frequent droughts, Health service, however, is well maintained in Kapiri. The dispensary caters for up to 350 people daily. In both communities the sisters work intensely to save lives by giving treatment nourishment and moral support.

Forming Religious Sisters

Today young Malawi women are joining the Carmelite Community to dedicate their whole lives. There is hope in Malawi.

By Gee-Gee Torres

The coconut and copra is a mainstay in Thailand. They often use monkeys to help out but these are untrained and sometimes beaten mercilessly. When our editorial assistant, Gee-Gee Torres, went to Thailand recently to visit the various Filipino missionary communities there, they brought her on a side-trip to the famous school for monkeys set-up by a humane man who feels monkeys deserve to be treated better. We hope you enjoy reading the story below.

Have you ever heard of a monkey going to college? This sounds crazy, but it’s true. When I visited the Filipino missionaries in Thailand last year, I slipped over to Suratthani to see the famous school for my self.

Monkey College

A man wearing a straw hat welcomed us smiling face. He’s the owner of the Monkey’s Training College, Mr. Saekhow. His school wouldn’t win any award for architectural design. It was not a typical college buildings but instead it had coconut trees all around the place and a makeshift classroom. But I think the school deserves an award for the best Monkey Training School. In fact tourist, including experts, visit this school when they are in Thailand.

Mr. Saekhow

Mr. Saekhow started training monkeys as helpers when he was 17. “Before there was no school for monkeys. Monkeys were trained by the owner in whatever ways. There are some who physically beat their monkeys,” he said. “I pitied the monkeys and so I decided to build a school for the monkeys. A school where they will be treated with compassion.”

There are also a few others who train monkeys domestically but Mr. Saekhow is the only trainer who established a school were monkeys live with him for several months before they are returned to their owners to work on the plantations. It took Saekhow many years of trial and error until he finally discovered the right training module for the monkeys. Now at 57 he still continues to train monkeys. What’s his secret? Let’s find out.

In the first day of school, Mr. Saekhow acquaints each new student to his new surroundings. Mr. Saekhow observes the monkeys if he is trainable or not. If a monkey is trainable, Mr. Saekhow introduces him to the training areas where he will learn the skills needed to pick coconuts. Only brown ripped coconuts (the kind which each monkey will eventually pick) are hung all around the school.

Nursery School

At this stage, each student is given his seat within visual range of his classmate. They are arranged according to the number of months they have attended school and according to the skills they have already mastered. This allows them to see what they will learn in the future.

Formal Training

Formal Training begins when Mr. Saekhow teaches a monkey how to spin off a coconut from the coconut tree. He uses a device made of wooden box with a brown coconut attached to the middle of the box through a rod pole. He sits at a safe distance away from the monkey, places the wooden box between his knees and begins spinning the coconut on its axle for an hour everyday while the monkey watches him do this.

Building Trust

1. Then Mr. Saekhow moves closer to the monkey.

2. If the monkey already feels comfortable with him sitting close by, Mr. Saekhow pats the monkey while he continues to spin the coconut.

3. Then slowly he holds the monkey's front paws and guides him to the coconut.

4. Mr. Saekhow then attaches the monkey’s collar by a rope to his own belt and calls out “Pick!” while the monkey spins the coconut.

After about 20 days, a coconut is attached to a bamboo pole. The monkey, still attached to Mr. Saekhow’s belt, learns to spin the coconut off the pole. Once the monkey gets used to this, Mr. Saekhow removes the belt and uses only a guide rope.

For the next two months, the monkeys will practice this step as Mr. Saekhow gradually increases the level of difficulty to approximate actual conditions when picking coconuts from the tree. The monkey is instructed to spin the coconut until it falls to the ground. Once mastered, the monkey is said to have graduated Nursery School.

Elementary School

Now the student moves on the elementary school. He is taken outside the classroom. He is brought to a bamboo pole to which coconuts have been attached. The monkey then repeats the spinning technique which he learned in nursery school to make the coconut fall off the pole. Gradually the attached coconuts are moved higher up the pole. Once the monkey can comfortably work high up the pole, Mr. Saekhow trains the monkey to jump from one bamboo pole to another without climbing down. At this stage the monkey is also taught how to fetch fallen coconuts which may have rolled too far for the owner to gather, and even fetching coconuts out of a pond or stream. Once mastered the monkey is about to graduate elementary school.

The big day for the monkey is when Mr. Saekhow finally brings him to the coconut plantation outside their classroom. Mr. Saekhow tells him to pick brown coconuts from the coconut trees. If the monkey picks all brown coconuts, he passes the final exam and can now go home and return to the plantation to work for its owner. However if he picks a green coconut, he cannot graduate yet.

Junior High School

The monkeys can continue to junior high school which may take as long as six months, if the owner wishes him to. During this phase, they will learn other skills such as how to load and unload coconuts into a vehicle, how to hand a worker coconuts to be peeled from their outer husks, how to load peeled coconuts into a bag two at a time, how to put the things of his owner such as bolo, rope, hat, drinking glasses o to the vehicle and even learn good manners (i.e. the monkey only eats when the owner invites him to do so). Such skills save the owner considerable time and labor and helps the owner avoid the chronic backaches which so often plague workers in this industry.

Mr. Saekhow is a very patient and kind man who never raises his voice or physically punishes the monkeys, even if he is bitten. He makes sure that the owners are trained how to handle the monkeys before he sends them home. I felt he was a man of compassion and I felt I had learned something of how we ought to treat animals.

By Fr. Rudy Fernandez, sj

I would like you to meet my friends Akihiro and Noriko Yoshida. They are special. They both come from traditionally Buddhist families. Akihiro’s mother is a very devout Buddhist. Noriko received her high school and college education at a school run by the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur.

Ski Tutors

I first met Noriko at the English conversation class I was teaching at a community center in the evenings. One day I happened to mention in class that I wanted to learn to ski but the sport was too expensive for me. After class Noriko came and said her brother’s skis and ski wear were lying unused at their place and I could have them. The following day I met Akihiro for the first time. They took me up to the mountains to ski. It turned out that they were very good skiers and they taught me well. Before the day was over, but after many a fall, I was racing down the slopes to their delight and applause. Ever since we have been friends. That was more than 20 years ago.

Family Friends

When my family visits me in Hiroshima, the Yoshida’s home is their home. My mother, my sister and her six children have been to Hiroshima three times. When the Yoshidas go to the Philippines, my mother and sister’s home is their home. Akihiro has been to the Philippines twice and Noriko thrice.

Japanese Hospitality

Whenever I have friends from abroad visiting me in Hiroshima, I always take them to the Yoshidas for a taste of true Japanese hospitality and an experience of visiting a Japanese family. For various reasons the Japanese want to entertain transient guests at restaurants rather than at home. Many foreigners can spend months in Japan with out ever seeing inside of a Japanese house. But at the Yoshidas it is always open house. I have had guests coming from Australia, Canada, Norway, the United States entertained by the Yoshidas.

Music Scholars

But the most frequents recipients of their hospitality are my kababayans – among these are the music scholars of the Elisabeth College of Music run by the Jesuits in Hiroshima. In 1991 the college started a full scholarship program for deserving Asian students of music. Most of the beneficiaries have been Filipinos.

Welcome Parties

Soon after the scholars arrived in Hiroshima for their 6-months Japanese language course and 2 years post-graduate studies, I introduced them to the Yoshidas. I am ‘Father’ to the students, and Akihiro and Noriko are O-nisan and O-nesan – kuya and ate. We had a welcoming party at the Yoshidas. As the guests are musicians, and Noriko is a member of a chorus. There is always plenty of music. During the scholars’ stay in Hiroshima there are picnics up in the mountains in spring and autumn, barbecue parties in the garden in summer, and sukiyaki dinners inside the house in winter. The Yoshidas always find time to attend all recitals and performances and graduation of the music scholars Noriko invites her friends to come along for moral support.

Family Theme Song

I officiated the wedding of Yoshida’s son, Atsushi, and daughter, Mari. On both weddings Eugene, a tenor from UST sang Santiago’s Ave Maria which is now a family favorite.

Friendships Needs No Justification

I am often asked I the Yoshidas are Catholic and when I say “No”, I am then asked why I do not convert and baptize them. I have to parry implications of my lack of missionary zeal by saying that the Yoshidas are my ecumenical friends, my intimately personal experience of ecumenism – though I believe friendship needs no justification. I would like to think that they are better Buddhists for having met me and hope I am a better Christian for having had their lives touch mine and trust we are all better human beings for having known one another.

One in Faith

The Yoshidas are friends, yes, family. Through friendship with them I have come to understand Jesus’ words more, “Whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, sister and mother.” The Yoshidas and I are one in our faith in a good and loving God. Religion should not build barriers but bridges. It should not build enclosures but should open doors and windows. Ecumenism to me is like going inside the Yoshida’s house, through the wide welcoming door, but taking off your shoes at the front door, out of respect and humility. “Remove the scandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground.”

By Bro. Paul Ines, sdb

Santa Sofia is one of the most ancient churches in the world built in 531 by Justinian I. It was a Christian church for a thousand years; then when Constantinople fell to the Turks it was a mosque for 500 years; now it is a museum. Fr. Ines, a Filipino missionary in Turkey, reflects on the memory of that once great Church.

As a Catholic Christian Missionary I feel a bit like the Basilica, a lonely sentinel in a predominantly Muslim land.

Yet, this Basilica of Santa Sofia gives witness in silence. She whispers the truth after all, Christ remains for all ages. In fact, to this day, although it is now a museum, the Basilica catechizes, so to speak, through the central mosaic of the Blessed Virgin Mary which has recently been restored. This mosaic depicts Mary giving to the world Jesus Christ, Divine Wisdom personified.

This Basilica dominating the skyline of the ancient city of Istanbul is a constant reminder for us of the call to mission even in the most difficult circumstances. Christus Vincit. Christus regnant Christus imperat.

Young people, my friends, my brothers and sisters,

Many of my hopes for more just and human world find their roots and their support in the young. I continue to think that the young no longer tolerate the seven capital sins of the modern world: racism, colonialism, war, paternalism, pharisaism, alienation and fear. You cannot imagine how many letters I receive telling terrible about the young of today. Over against the seven capital sins you are fighting, they emphasize the seven capital sins into which you are said to fall: elitism, mental laziness, protest, drugs, sex, compromise and atheism.

Elitism

They talk about your elitism because of your clothes, your music, your language, your reactions. People forget that every generation has its own style----it suffices the glance through an old family album.

Mental Laziness

Mental Laziness? You do not accept teaching which is dry as dust, out of date and remote from life, which the university tries to instill into you. The adults should have a go at discussing with you the real and terrible human problems of our time.

Protest

How can you not protest when you have to break through a shell of prejudices and to break down inhuman and reactionary structures? It is true that you often take your protest too far and that I doing so you invade your schools, take them over and sometimes ransack them. It is a pity that the universities----crammed as they are with psychologists, sociologists and educators ----have shown themselves incapable of foreseeing your revolt while it was taking shape, and that they do not manage to engage in dialogue with you.

Drugs

As for drugs and narcotics, without doubt, you yourselves, the young, are already convince that drugs are only a false hope, whose price in terms of health, vitality and creativity is too heavy. But it is a pity that the adults do not ask themselves what lies behind the despair and bitterness which drives the young to the evasion. Those who condemn the young are very often incapable of thinking that perhaps their egoism, their lack of understanding and openness are directly connected with the drug invasion.

Sex

In what period has sex not exercised its powerful attractions? Certainly you yourselves------more simple, more authentic, more direct -----feel the necessity to investigate the mystery of love which, through it very often involves sex, is by no means reduced to the call of flesh. Too much talk is made of free love. But what is love really, and when can one talk of freedom?

Compromise

Compromise? Her lies a real danger. To the degree in which the compromise all around you is broad and tempting, the struggle to be undertaken is more arduous. And compromise is a siren ready to seduce you.

Atheism

Your position with regard to religion and God depends, to a great extent, on your attitude and response to life. When you meet people who are trying to live a religion which refuses to be opium of the masses, an alien and alienating force, when you meet a person of whom the love of God involves human love your atheism will give way to respect, to sympathy ---who knows? ---to faith.

Nonviolence

If I know you as well as I think I do, we are in agreement on our way of looking at this world which is groaning with injustices. You will agree in recognizing that, in general, youth is losing patience and slipping into radical action and armed violence. You also agree that the governments are ready to react in a brutal way. Your doubts bears on the following point: is non-violence feasible, even in a positive and demanding movement such as Action for Justice and Peace?

We are united in our aim: we wish for a more just and human world. You think perhaps that only armed violence will have the power to shake and demolish the inhuman structures which creates slaves. If I joyfully spend the rest of my life, of my power, of my energies in demanding justice, but without hatred, without armed violence, through liberating moral pressure, through truth and love, it is because I am convinced that only love is constructive and strong.