Somewhere in Milaor, Camarines Sur, there lived a fourth grader boy who would follow this route to school everyday: He has to cross the rugged plains and cross the dangerous highway where vehicles are recklessly driving to and from.
Once past this highway, the boy would take a short cut, passing by the Church every morning just to say Hi to God, and faithfully say his, “Magandang umaga po” in Bicol dialect. He was faithfully being watched by a Priest who was happy to find innocence so uplifting in the morning, “Kamusta, Andoy? Papasok ka na?”
“Opo padre … “he would flash his innocent grin, the priest would be touched. He was so concerned that one day he talked to Andoy.
“From school…”, he advised “Do not cross the highway, you can pass through the Church and I can accompany you to the other side of the road…that way I can see that you are home safe….”
“Thank you father…”
“Why don’t you go home … why do you stay in this church right after school?”