Brotherhood transcends religion

MANILA, Philippines–Looking back to my early years as a teacher, I particularly relish the memory of the Jecamus Bros., as three of my sophomore boys referred to themselves.

JE stood for Jehovah’s Witness, CA for Catholic and MUS for Muslim.

Pedro, the oldest and the Jehovah’s Witness, was overage for high school. The son of a tenant, he helped his father tend the coconut plantation of a landed family.

Ronald, the Catholic, was the son of a government employee while Alex, the Muslim, came from a well-to-do family in Marawi City.

Having been elected officers of the class, the Jecamus Bros. bonded well. Little did they know they started a kind of ecumenical relationship as class dependables.

Classroom upkeep and activities were efficiently managed. On top of everything, they shared a sense of humor that often sent their classmates rolling in laughter.

Differences in religion and age did not matter to them. A few times, after a hard day’s work, especially during busy days like class outreach programs and sports, the three would be the last to leave.

I would treat them to a simple meal. I saw to it that the food we ordered could be shared by all.

Pedro would not touch any dish with animal blood in it like dinuguan; for Alex, a pork dish was a no-no, while Ronald boasted that he had eaten

everything and anything.

A few weeks before the end of the school year, everybody, as a norm, was busy finishing class requirements. The Jecamus Bros. would drop by to visit for a few minutes then rush out to do their projects.

One afternoon, while I was watering the plants at home, which was within walking distance from the school, I glimpsed an open cabinet-like piece borne aloft by some boys coming down the road. As they neared, I recognized the Jecamus Bros.

I asked where they were going. They smiled sheepishly as they entered my gate and said the cabinet was for me. It was their project in Practical Arts.

I was very pleasantly surprised to see the newly varnished wooden cabinet up close. I touched it like it was a trophy.

My very young children jumped for sheer joy at the sight of the boys who had become their friends, rather than for what they brought me.

The cabinet is still with me after all these years even though we have transferred to another city in Mindanao. It shines like new every time I apply a fresh coat of varnish on it, although the wear and tear are evident.

But it does not matter. I see the Jecamus Bros. smiling every time I look at it.

Flor Saco Temple taught at Mindanao State University-Iligan Institute of Technology in Iligan City before transferring to the Philippine Science High School in Diliman, Quezon City, where she taught for 15 years. She left teaching to care for a very sick older sister who was also a teacher.