Looking back

My thoughts brought me back to my college days as I gaze upon the students in front of me at the bus. It was, for me, one of the memorable times in my life. Unlike others, I don't have the brains to get a full scholarship or a silver spoon in my mouth in order for me to finish my college. But, I was lucky enough to be admitted in the Ozanam Grantee - an organization for student assistants where students worked for at least 40 hours a week in the school while maintaining a passable grade. My university days were monotonous. From Monday to Friday, starting at 6.30 in the morning and going home at 10 in the evening, I juggle my work and classes. As soon as I got home, rest was done only after I've done my assignments or projects. Sleep was a luxury for me that time. On saturdays, I still go to school to work half day and spend the afternoon for my laboratory classes which was really impossible to do on the weekdays. Sundays were usually meant for the org's events like sports activities, charitable activities, induction, etc. It was tiring but I guess the adrenaline of juggling everything was what pushed me to finish that responsibility. Though it sounds like boring as hell and no fun at all, it has its own perks that I did enjoy for 5 years that I was a grantee. Like being the first one to choose a good schedule, and enroll without the hassle of queuing and rubbing elbows with thousands of regular students. There's also a chance of getting the good side of most of my professors since I almost see them my entire university life. But of course, there are professors who just hate us and doesn't have the sympathy on what we do. A chance to have a peek of most of your grades is also one of the perks though it was always done discreetly. And the best of all is doing the charity works. The chance to do "apostolate" where all grantees will visit one place (juvenile delinquency, old people, squatters area, etc) and distribute the goods donated by the grantees from their measly allowance was one experience I couldn't forget. It's a chance for poor to help the poor. We were taught not to limit ourselves on helping others just because we don't have enough money. Every month, at least one saturday, we spend our whole day playing with the kids, chatting with the parents of how they live their life and at the same time giving hope to those who needs one. We were the perfect model for them for we know what it's like to live having one meal a day, what it feels like to hear your stomach growling, to have only few pesos in our pocket, to know the difficulty of coming from a broken family, to have a piece of apple as a luxury and experienced what it's like to have their electricity cut by the meralco for not paying the bill. But everytime we were there, you would never see a soul without a smile on their face. It's not because of the food we bring but because of the hope they see in us inspite of every trial that's sited on our shoulders. I've learned a lot from them. I've learned many things that even the best school couldn't teach me. I've learned that one man's quandary could be another's strength. Their only reason for living is their family. Their only bliss and dream is to have enough food for everybody. Maybe it's not bad to go back a few paces so I could learn to accept the things I cannot do and be thankful for the things that I have knowing how many millions out there who doesn't have.