With the death of my "Lolo Pari", the future looked bleak as our family's meager income was barely enough to support a large brood. Such harsh reality forced my older sister to escape poverty by marrying at a very young age. When school opened, I watched enviously students going to the high school nearby. Oftentimes, I loitered around the school grounds wishing forlornly I was a student also. Yet, poverty made me accept the fact that my life would be working in my grandfather's twice a year "copra" making or helping my mother's "pandan" weaving business.
But God was good as He sent to our town the Father Rector of St. Francis Minor Seminary located at Lipa, Batangas (then yet to be a city). His mission was to recruit young boys willing to study for the priesthood and I was a lucky candidate. For more than two years, I took my high school studies at the Minor Seminary, first in Lipa and in Sariaya, Quezon, where I had to quit due to health problems. I was called to be a priest but I was not chosen to be.
Back at home, I became a factotum of our parish priest, going with him in his various assignment at four different parishes in our province. There I was able to complete my high school studies despite the fact that my seminary studies were not recognized by the government. In one of the parishes where my priest-guardian was assigned, I met my future wife, my History instructor, who was several years older. It was destiny which prevailed over my decision and caused me to drop my courtship of a student in the parish academy where I was also studying.
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