EARLY CHURCH DAYS

The new church came to our place and to our family like an adventure, a very first time adventure for me and a new life to the community. All members of my family joined the new church except for Manang Conchita, who was at the time was away from us, during this time she was living in Misamis Oriental. We had heard that she had gotten married. Manoy Fredo, the oldest, also found a wife in Misamis Oriental but he came back to Sicpao. My brother Virgilio, older than me for four years, and Titing, younger than me for three years, were the ones that were actively participating in the church activities, along with my father and mother. The first church we were in, before my father donated a property, had only dearth floors, meaning, when one fell down, which is a normal occurence for Pentecostals, he or she lies down on the bare earth. I experienced the Holy Spirit while in this church and the pastor claimed that I got filled by the Holy Ghost that evening because I told him that I saw a very bright light while praying, shaking, and mumbling, and falling down to the dusty floor. I had hit the bamboo bench on my way down and a big thud was heard, sending every one's attention on me. There on the dusty earth floor I kept kicking and rolling, and when I got up and dusted myself, my face was filled with the earth's powder. Immediately the pastor had me talk on the front about my experience and I saw the other children giggling while looking on my dusty face. Since that time, I became more involved in all the activities of the church including visiting other churches.

When the big church got built in the property of my father, more people came, and more visiting pastors visited us. My father and mother took proud of the fact that not only that they gave the property where the church was built on but also because his family were all together worshipping in this very congregation. But the most that my father and mother were very proud of was when I would get up in front of the congregation in order to recite Psalm 23, "The Lord is my Shepherd." The first time that I stood up to recite I thought that I would pass out for nervousness. I was shaking all over my body and my voice came out quivering haltingly. No body knew that I was about to fall down in fear. Rather, victoriously, the congregation got up on their feet and cried unto God believing that the Holy Spirit did possess me. When I said the ending word, "forever" I whipped out a big sigh of relief that finally it was all over. I shook going to my seat. The more people shouted and praised God because they interpreted what they saw in me as God's anointing. My dad was all smiles and my mom was really proud. But I was in my seat like a chicken that got wet by the rain.

Shortly thereafter, I was introduced to play a ukelele. A ukelele is a small guitar having only four strings, as in contrast to the real big guitar having six strings. I learned the ukelele by watching Titing play one. He was tinkering with the instrument and I listened to the sound and I thought he was doing the chords correctly. Up to this day I do not have any idea how he learned playing the ukelele at the age of five years old. I asked him to let me try the instrument and I simply did what he did and I made some good sound. We could now accompany ourselves singing "Christ is the answer," which was the most coveted hymn for all of us in the church. Needless to say, we volunteered in the church that my brother and I would render a special song. The people were amazed at our ability to sing in harmony, especially with a ukelele. Our fame began to spread. And our pastor would send us to fellowship meetings to render our special songs.

When we moved to Gatub, a four hour trip from Mahayag, south of Pagadian City, which is the largest city in Zamboanga del Sur, we were now a full-pledged believer of the Christian faith. My father learned to pray, although my mom was more on a haphazard Christian. My father had prepared a place ahead in time before moving to Gatub, and so when we got there we already had a house. Our house was in the vicinity of a cockpit arena, and every Sunday afternoon a big cockfight took place. My father put up a restaurant operational only during cockfight hours and we had good business. In the evening, when it was time to go to sleep, we would fold the tables and would sweep the bamboo floor and that was where we would sleep. At dawn I could hear my father sing "And Kabuntagun," a Christian anthem that I thought the only song my father knew to sing. And while singing and listening to him I would also hear the sound of a bird saying, "Wak, wak, wak." It was a bird of a witch. And it was believed when the bird would be heard in any time of the night the man-witch, which was described as a bodiless face of an old woman which flies like a bat, would be very close by. Whereupon, I would get the long bolo, which was prepared for such an occasion, and would challenge the witch by putting it on the crack on the wall of the house causing a real squeaky sound. The bird, sensing the bolo, would dive onto the wall and leave a real shreik and long sound, letting us know that it was very upset. I could not almost breath for fear, but thankfully enough, the bird would just go away and let us alone for the rest of the morning.