God and Country

I have two significant memories from when I was in college at the Ateneo de Manila:

Every so often, there's a special Mass held at the quad. Now there was this one time, as I was crossing the quad to get to class, the timing was perfect for a hymn from the cantor. There was no choir; there was just this young lady whom I knew was a member of the glee club.  

I stopped dead in my tracks. I thought this cantor just had this gorgeous singing voice. I don't even remember the girl's name anymore (I have some imagery in my head -- and she's possibly this girl in my English class -- but I don't trust that part of the memory). But I remember that moment.

If God does exist, He just had to be listening then. (And if God wasn't listening to this girl's hymn, then I think the cacophony of my prayers are even less likely to be heard.)

I walked into class half-way through the period (well, that was nothing new anyway).

The second memory happened early one morning. I was walking down from the Residence Halls, just a few feet away from crossing the road to the path to Berchman's Hall. Then, the most absolutely ordinary thing happened: The Philippine national anthem was announced and then started playing. 

(This was a rare occasion for me. I'm rarely awake that early in the morning when I was in college. That had to be 7am.)

Everyone within sight just stopped -- including the cars on the road.

I placed my right palm on my chest and started singing softly. I observed a few other people do the same, or else they just stood quietly at attention, facing the general direction of the college quad.

 

Companies collapse, organizations falter, and even people whom we regarded as friends can sell us out. But one that gives me some hope is the knowledge that there are people for whom love of God and love of country are not just philosophical imperatives. It's the only way to live.

 

Comments

[Crislie]

i love this entry Marvs

[Erica Jones]

I love it too, Marvs.