Uday

            Once, when Philippines was newly colonized by Spain,  a kindly priest was assigned to a remote poblacion in Irong-Irong.

 The previous priest had done a good job in spreading the good news to this colony. So the new priest was determined to do the same.

It was not long before the priest knew about an old revered woman that people fondly called Uday. As he glimpsed from the rumors, this Uday was very holy and people often sought to learn from her. People even went to her place just to get some peace of mind from her prayerful presence.

Then the priest was shocked to learn that Uday was not attending the mass and was disturbed.

“This woman could be a bad influence to the people. They should not venerate this person who is not attending the mass.”

So the kindly priest went to tackle with Uday her delinquency. After crossing a meandering river seven times and walking several miles of dense forest, the kindly priest saw Uday and readily felt her tranquil aura.

                “Surely, this woman is a holy one.” He mused “But still I have a job to do.” So after some prelude, the priest asked Uday for the reason of her failure to attend the mass regularly.

                “O I really wanted to hear mass, but in my very advanced age, I cannot tackle the distance anymore.

                “You must know I’m so old I cannot even remember how many rainy seasons had passed since I was born.”

                The kindly priest nodded in understanding. “Her reason is acceptable; the Lord Jesus would surely understand her. But wait. How sure am I her god is the Lord?”

                The priest doubt set in anew.

                “I must ascertain she does not adore those filthy pagan gods or any ancient trees.”

                So he asked Uday, “Uday, may I know who is your God?”

                Uday smiled at him diffidently. “You see, my dear child, I cannot also remember the name of my God.”

                The priest was appalled.

                “Why? Do you adore those ancient trees or those mountain gods of your ancestors?”

                “No, no, my child, I’m not. Many seasons ago, a young man, who wore the same clothes as you do, taught me about a merciful god, who came, died for us and has risen. Since then, he became my god.”

                The priest was visibly relieved. “At least, she had the right God.” He mumbled. “But I should teach him the name of the Lord.”

                “Well, Uday, why don’t you read this book so you will remember the name of the Lord.”

                “But I don’t know how to read.”

                “Then you must learn how, I will teach you. “

                The woman shook her head. “I’m too old to learn. And why do I need to learn reading?”

                “So that the book can remind you of the name of our God”

                “Why?”

                “So you can always call on Him.”

                “But I don’t need to call for Him.”

                The priest was taken aback by Uday’s reply.  “Aha! what a boastful and ignorant reply! Surely, no one can live without the Lord’s help.” He secretly smiled. At last he found something to tackle with the woman.

                “Uday, are you claiming you have no need of God’s help?”

                “No. I need His help all the time.”

                “”Then why don’t you have a name for God? How can you call your God for help?” The priest smiled. He was winning the argument.

                “But I don’t need to call my God.”

“What?”

“My God never leaves me. My God is always with me and he helps me in everything I do.

“He walks with me in the wood, watch over me when I sleep in my hut. And protect me from harm. So I don’t need to call him.”

The priest saw the light that day. And he went home with a grateful heart, thanking for the lesson she unknowingly taught him.

~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~

Marjonnel