Once upon a time…

Promdi (PD) had a big problem: he might not be able to go to college. He realized this during that last Christmas in high school, that time when many started getting senti over the rapidly ending high school days while everyone else was already looking ahead to the coming year and with it, college.

Who was he kidding?! The realization that college would be a stretch came early in his life. Way too early.

PD was born to struggling parents: his father peddled gulay to support the family, while his mother was a simple housewife. He always remembered him carrying these two baskets filled with gulay linked to the opposite ends of a bamboo peg, which he then carried on his shoulders balanced like the scale of Lady Justice. In this way he scoured the surrounding barangays from sunup until most of the vegetables were sold, which was just about lunch time most of the time. Any leftovers were for their consumption, so it is apparent that PD grew up on vegetables and his father’s sweat.


So this promdi knew his place in the greater scheme of things. They were poor but a child raised happy in a state of poverty could not have asked for more. And as long as his stomach was filled, which most of the time it was, and as long as he was allowed to play like a child, which most of the time he was, things seemed normal. Yes, Promdi was raised by two poor, uneducated parents who showered him with love and affection only the poor can give their children.

Then again, his parents’ love and affection could not bring him to and through college: he had to find a way himself. Or as it turned out, generous people had to find a way for him. The following February the results of the entrance exam for that school near the boarder of Marikina and Quezon cities (let’s just call it the University) came out. To PD’s delight he got a full academic scholarship with dormitory allowance! Problems solved, or so he thought.

Let me just digress and tell you that the University was PD’s school of choice because his high school was a sort of a provincial branch of the University and naturally the students were encouraged to attempt to spend college there and since the passing rate was very low, making it to the University was a news-making achievement.

Getting the scholarship, however, did not solve his other problems –how would he come up with the money to pay for his daily expenses in school? His food? His books? His plane fare? His other needs? (His gimmicks?!) These were certainly not part of the scholarship. What a wasted chance, he thought, getting this scholarship and not taking advantage of it? His parents certainly could barely support him through high school (another story altogether) and could never be expected to provide the money for college. There were no savings to run to, no lands to sell, no jewelry to pawn, no nothing! It was either this scholarship or no college education!

All seemed impossible for PD until generous souls arranged for other generous souls to help him. And everything fell into place. No amount of thank yous can repay them for their generosity and PD knows he owes everything to them.

(This blog ends here but a lot will be said about these generous souls and more before PD is done.)