Sergio

Title

Sergio

Language

English

Source

The Little Apostle of the Mountain Province XIX (10) June 1950

Year

1950

Subject

Prayers

Rights

In Copyright - Educational Use Permitted

Abstract

[Claro invites a priest to visit his sick brother named Sergio. Together with their mother and Sergio’s wife Fausta, they offer daily prayers for Sergio’s speedy recovery. One day, Sergio showed an improvement, but later died of his illness, leaving his mother in deep sorrow]

Fulltext

.PHOTO C. AERTS SERGIO There stood Claro, perspiring and gasping for breath. With bloodshot eyes and sagging shoulders, a statue of misery and pain, he supported himself against the desk. His head hung low upon his breast. It took some time before he uttered the words, "Father, my brother Sergio is very sick." The brown coarse fingers twitched nervously while playing with the tablecloth. "He wants so much to see you, Father said he. More he could not bring out. His lips began to tremble and his eyes filled with tears. The Father knew Sergio, a good boy, but who like so many of his caste had committed a big mistake. A mistake that filled his soul with fear and apprehension. Fausta had become his wife. -7They had married according to pagan customs. Often he had wished to live like other Christian families, but their pagan customs, together with so many other reasons, had taxed his courage; and he had failed to make the step. His sickness might well be a warning, a grace of God to send Sergio upon the right path. His will was good and this caused him to reach out with both hands toward this last means of salvation. He asked for a priest . . .. The Father and his sacristan, with Claro leading, wended their way along the path that zigzagged toward the Chico-river. Clare's thoughts were with his brother .... Suddenly it started to rain, but they did not even notice that their garments got sticky. It was cold, but a deathlike stillness filled the air just like the soul of Sergio to whom they were going to give new life. It was 12:00 o'clock. They felt tired, but it was no time to rest; for a soul had to be saved from the clutches of the devil. Down, far down is the little village. The huts are clustered like beehives along the sloping side of the little hill. It was very peaceful at this hour of the day. Claro felt the wild beatings of his heart. He didn't walk anymore, but he ran with Father and the sacristan following as fast as they could. Suddenly Claro stopped, listened intently, continued again for a while, and then . .. .. . , "Here," he said, "is my brother's ricefield with nobody to take care of", Indeed the field was utterly neglected, full of weeds with here and there a meager stalk of rice. And this was a time of famine .. .. . . A crowd of little urchins met them at the entrance of the village. "Sergio is very sick," they said, "he can no longer talk". Soon the whole village knew that the Father had come to visit Sergio. Who knows, He might have some santonine for their Apo laka y, who complained about h is terrible headache; or s u 1 fa tablets to prevent colds. PHOTO C. AERTS -8Here now they stood in front of Sergio's little house. The faint moaning of the poor man reached their ears. Women mingled with them their lamentations. A pair of little heads appeared in the half-closed door, but soon disappeared again. .. H 0 T 0 c. " E R T s food and clothing in this time of famine? The many visitors drew back to the far ends of the house. It was awfully hot inside. Sergio turned his head slightly in the direction of the visitors, his eyes were planted deep into their sockets, lusterless, liveless. He was On the ground lay Sergio. His old fighting a hard fight and a beastly mother kneeling near him. Her foe. It was indeed a struggle for life withered face bespoke of anguish or for death. His cheeks were holand deep compassion, of distressing low and sunken, his face overspread times and great trials. She tried to with the pallid hue of death. His master her sorrow as only mothers emaciated hands went to his throat. can do. With trembling hands she jerked his head from one side to the caressed the fevered brow of her boy, other. Something seemed to stifle her eldest son. His father had died him, and he fought against it. He when Sergio was but a little boy. For looked miserably at his mother then some years years now he had been at his wife, at Claro and then at the the only one to earn their living. His Father. Was there then nobody young wife sat somewhat farther who could help him? He wanted to helpless, gazing from husband to scream, but he had no more voice. children and back again. Who He tried to sit up, but fell back into should henceforth provide them with his pillows, helpless and exhausted. -9His eyes remained wide-open, staring without seeing; his ears tried to catch some sounds, but heard them no longer. His hands clutched frantically his heaving breast, while his mouth closed like a tomb . ''The Father is here" whispered Claro, but Sergio remained motionless. For some minutes he lay like one in ectasy, then again convulsions shook his frail and sick body. Father tried to rouse him to gain contact with his benumbed senses; but every means failed. Finally Sergio seemed to have passed the crisis. He became calm once more, while his eyes took on a new brillancy. A little sleep will do him good. One by one the relatives and visitors left the room. The Father went farther to another village where his catechist was living. He He promised to come back the next day and left some medecine for Sergio . .... . That same night, about 9:00 o' - clock the Father was called back to Sergio, who, for sure, lay dying, said the messenger. The Father wanted to accompany this man; but he was gone back to the village. Everything was quickly brought in readiness, torches were lighted, and away went the caravan'. The moon shed her silver-pale light upon the rice-fields. Many a weird shadow glided over the terraces; a dog barked from afar. p H 0 T 0 Co A E R T ous object, he lost the path to follow. Cold drops trickled from his forehead; yet onward he must, for Sergio was dying. How happy they felt when they reached the first huts. A couple of boys came running towards them, leading them by the light of their torches to the house of mother Kanut. Sergio was going through his most intense crisis. Since dawn he had not uttered a single syllable. Only his soft moaning rent the hearts of those who loved him. Fausta sat near him, and busied herself administering cold patches upon his fevered brow. The Father, together with the other Christians, prayed. CalmOften did the missionary curse the ness followed once more, yet not his tricky moonlight. When he thought speech. Long still did the priest and to step on a stone, he found his feet the catechist remain with the sick planted in the cool mud of the field. boy, until! they knew that all danger When he tried to avoid some danger- was passed. Tomorrow Father should -10offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for Sergio's recovery ..... . The next day, after the mass, Father left for a nearby barrio. He stayed there overnight. The next morning his first visit was for Sergio whom he found in exactly the same condition as the day before. There remained only one thing to do .. pray. And the next day morning a messenger hurried along the way to tell the Father that Sergio was much better, and that his speech had returned. This was the opportunity so longed for. Daylight gave wings to the Father. He found the poor man sitting up in his. bed with a thick blanket around his emaciated body. Father helped him prepare for a good confession. It was a blessed moment for both when the man had made his peace with God. Peace and happiness emanated from his pallid face. Sergio was another man. When the Father left the house, the village counted one more Christian family. Sergio was left, his soul bathed in inner joy and happiness, fortified to sustain his further sufferings and to offer them in complete comformity to the will of God. Three weeks later, the Father received the .5ad and unexpected tiding that Sergio was no more. His soul had taken its flight to Heaven. The last week he had walked as far as his ricefield. It was a deep consolation for the Father to hear that the boy had not omitted to pray daily together with his wife and mother. old mother went to repeat her lamentations in the neglected ricefield. She walked in a daze weeping over her dead son. Amidst her tears one could hear her lament over again, "Why did you go, Balawag? Who is now to take care of your little children? Hear me, Sergio, come, take me along where you are so that I can care for you again. Balawag, where are you? Maybe you are suffering because nobody looks after you. Come, get me after two days, I want to see your face again, my child. I am old and lonely and can no more work. Come!" V. 0. K. HAMMOND ORGANS . *. ESTEY ORGANS . * . KOLSKI ORGANS Exclusive Distributors H •I! H Felipe Yupangco & Sons,lnc. Bonifacio Drive Port Area 316 Carriedo Quiapo For several weeks afterwards, his -11

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