During my high school days in the IHMS, I was always assigned in the sacristy. I felt at home being a sacristan because in my elementary years, I was already an altarboy of Fr. Saturnino Felicitas in Jagna. On the occasion of my first Eucharistic Mass in December 1993, Fr. Felicitas gave me his (original) chalice, which I still keep in my house. But this is not about Fr. Felicitas; this is about Juntabs.
As sacristan, I had the luxury, or rather displeasure, of observing seminarians who were prayerful, naughty, and sleepy, seeing them unkempt and scratching their bottoms. During those days, there was the usual practice visiting the chapel after lunchtime. On several occasions, I would see Leonel Grado with his friend Elmer “kid” Laput; the boyish Jecebu Ceballos; Soc Mesiona who always snorted while praying; Manuel Arcamo with his Rizal-style haircut; Marjals who had the habit of cleaning his nails while praying; the smiling Fr. Joseph Lim; Ben Ricafort; the almost-in-a-trance-like-state Wixwax Ranoa; Isaac Pala and . . . Juntabs. All of those mentioned typically stayed for about five minutes or less, with the exception of Juntabs. He was always the last one to leave. While everyone else stayed for a brief and personal prayer, Juntabs prayed the rosary. I was like the rest who went to pray and only stayed for a short while. I do not know what my subconscious motivation was. Maybe I had the hunch that priests were observing us or that the Immaculate Mother was beaconing us to come and pray. Whatever it was, I still did not commit to saying the Rosary as Juntabs did. It’s just too long a prayer to me.
One day, for whatever fate dictated the anima of Juntabs, he changed his place of prayer. This time he occupied a kneeler right beside the big post, rendering him hidden from view. It was also the day when Fr. Orimaco, the Bursar, announced that those students who were not updated with their Board and Lodging payment would not be able to take the Periodical Test. That was bad news. I had not settled my bills for the past eight months. So sad indeed. I remember thinking being the most miserable seminarian in the whole world. I thought I would never become a priest because I couldn't pay my dues. So, I decided to pray more fervently after lunch that day. I promised to go to the chapel to pray for whatever benevolence God will give me. All the while, I tried to put on a smile on my face so that people would never know that I was poor, the poorest who couldn't pay 8 months worth of Board and Lodging. I wanted to asked God to soften the hearts of the seminary fathers and to permit me to take the Periodicals. So, in the chapel, when I thought everyone had gone for siesta and I was alone, I knelt down at the center aisle. Then, moving slowly while kneeling, I walked towards the altar like what the women of Quaipo would always do. Fortunately, I did not say my petition aloud, otherwise Juntabs who was hidden behind the post would have heard me praying and crying at the same time. I continued the walking-while-kneeling until I reached the stairs near altar. I was about to prostrate myself on the floor when out of nowhere I saw a pair of hands holding a rosary beads. It was Juntabs who startled me saying. “Hoy, gaunsa ka nganha Abcede … di man ron Bernes Santo.” I just kept my composure, keeping silent and pretending to tie my shoes. In my mind, I was saying to him, “Ngaway ka Juntabs, di ko ka exam ugma kay naputow ahong ampo.” That was the first and last time for me to do the kneel-walk tyopr of prayer, but also the beginning of my habit to pray the rosary. During my whole priestly life and now in my married state, the rosary is my segue from the world’s noise into holy silence. Rosary prayer is the gift of the Blessed Mother to me.
IHMS has nurtured in me the practice of praying the Rosary. It is the most reliable knot that connects me to God. Fast forward to the present during this awful pandemic period, a motorcycle delivery came into my house and I noticed a rosary beads tied on the steering bar. Casually I asked him, if he prayed the rosary. He answered yes. “So, you also come from the IHMS?” the motorcycle driver, in utter consternation, asked, “Ano po yung ayechemes?” (by McAbs Abcede)
