Nunc stans

by Yas Jayson Saturday, August 24, 2019 0 palagay duc in altum everyday witness picture paints a thousand pesos

Sr. Fidelis is one hundred years old. I never knew her personally but as how it was, she used to be a young sister assigned to take care of young girls in Baguio. She probably have experienced those furious drives up and down that mountain city in a brake-less car to go to the market just to gather vegetable scraps so that girls under her care could eat. Probably out of frustration, she knew the ministry could not go on that way and something had to be done. Seeing the abundance of ube crops, she made the ube jam. Perfected inside the convent with other nuns, the famous ube jam sent thousands of Cordillera youth to school and Sr. Fidelis went on to go to other mission stations she was sent. The infirmary is her last mission station, just like most of her predecessors.

It was midday and raining. While all the world around her runs frantically doing about a thousand and one things at the same time, there she was at the infirmary's oratory, sitting in silence, doing what she is supposed to do. Seeing her I remember the words of the psalm: "From the rising of the sun to its setting, may the name of the Lord be praised." Day in and day out, her single act of devotion to be with her Good Shepherd and the Love of her life transcends both duty and habit.

Those long hours of communion. No one else was there but I know she wasn't alone. In solitude the same zeal consumes her. In that moment, I could clearly see that her mission and identity are the same.

Fidelis. Her name means faithful in Latin. I can't think of any name more fit than that.