This photo is of one of my favorite reredos in the whole wide world. It belongs to a humble little chapel somewhere in San Juan, in a small conference center that holds a special meaning for me. In that little oratory I learned what I was made for, and I'll never forget it. Over the break, when I was there, I sat constantly in the first row of pews for no other reason than to keep looking at the reredo and to imagine myself part of the scene. Whenever I was distracted during prayer I would wrench myself back by imagining that I was the one holding up the Baby Jesus' head. (I mean if you think about it, I don't think an infant this young should have been able to hold his head up so tensely yet.) You move me, my Lord, broken beneath the rod--but I also like to see you as an infant, because, like a saint once said, I can fool myself into thinking that you need me.
So what does this image of the Blessed Virgin Mary have to do with the Tao Rin Pala? Moments before we went backstage for our performance in the chorale competition, I realized that we hadn't prayed as a class, something we used always to do before any Big Thing. I mouthed this to Dane, our conductor, who mouthed back something to the effect of "I know--wait!" But the prayer didn't happen, because we had to go in right away. So backstage, I squared my shoulders and said a Memorare. In fact I said all the memorares I could fit into that brief period while class 2015 was finishing their song. Part of me was amazed at my daring. You know that rhyme--when she was good, she was very, very good; when she was bad, she was very very bad? Well, this week, I was very very bad indeed. No presence of God, no interior recollection, no spirit of penance--and so much ego, so much bad behavior and lack of charity and all-around kasungitan.
And here I was, on a Very Important Night, asking with all temerity for a favor: that we might win. It seems a very conceited thing to ask. In fact, the better, humbler, more loving plea would be: Lord, through the interecession of the Blessed Virgin, please help us to do our best but to accept Your Will whatever it may be! But I also know that, like a child asking her father for the moon, a father (or a mother) will love you for asking for even the most ridiculous things, because he knows you trust him enough to ask.
Of course there was some quick rectifying to be done moments before we crept on stage--Lord, scratch that; whether we win or not, I'll be happy because for a Christian, there is no reason to be sad!--but my point is that the Memorare is one prayer that comes spontaneously, and that it has never, ever failed me. All it takes is a sincere act of will and a looking back to that beautiful reredo, and all sadness, all fear evaporates. I prayed to win, sure; but I prayed for a good disposition too, which was more important.
Mama, I entrusted TRP to you (and I'm sure some of my classmates did too). And we won, and that victory is yours too. Let it be my (and Dane's) small rose for you, during this novena to your Immaculate Conception, and thank you, Mama, for hearing me, despite how terrible I've been to you and to my father.
For me, Mama, ikaw ang bida!
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