Bambi Cordero and Malu Marquez brought books for the Bilibid Prisons' library last June, 2009.
There are a lot of elementary, high school and college students among the prisoners at the medium-security area. It's great that after they leave prison, they would have had an opportunity for further education.
The books donated came from all the way from Australia. A member of our batch, Elena Villacorta-Cortez, has been soliciting them from library administrators and even garage sale proponents.
I look forward to writing again about the next projects of Batch'83. Thanks, ladies!
THE CHILDREN ALWAYS HUG ATE MANEL WHEN SHE VISITS THE HOME. She hugs them back tightly. And the children immediately start to tell her everything that happened to them in the last week or so. There is also a barrage of questions and emotions -- to which Ate Manel's head turns right, then left, then right again, maybe at least five more times.
"We have a school project and our teacher said we need to pay sixty pesos on Monday but Tita said there is no more petty cash."
"Jerome pinched Isabel again that's why she cried!"
"Roland refuses to lend us the guitar. He is the only one enjoying it."
"Is Kuya Bert still bringing us to Megamall on Saturday?
Ate Manel communicates to all while walking, her gentle face taking on a variety of expressions in succession, each time appropriate for a particular response.
"Tita, don't you have petty cash anymore? Were you able to submit the liquidation last Wednesday?"
"Jerome? Where is Jerome? Jerome, why did you pinch Isabel?"
"Please ask Roland again nicely to lend you the guitar. If he still refuses, I will just talk to him."
"Yes, Kuya Bert will pick you up at nine a.m. on Saturday. Please get ready early."
With great pleasure (and admittedly greater amusement), I have repeated witnessed instances like this in the last six years. And Ate Manel has always just been her patient, kind and loving self to the children as well as to the staff. She is a listener, not one to pass judgment on anyone.
Ate Manel is passionate about social work, constantly seeking higher standards even among peers. But she encourages us all with utmost care and sensitivity.
Ate Manel is a registered social worker who has been involved with the Virlanie Foundation, Inc. for street children since 2002. She was first assigned as a community organizer in the Payatas, Tondo and Barangay Singkamas, Makati areas. She then became a residential social worker at Marco Polo Home.
In a little over a year, she was promoted as project coordinator for Gabay Buhay Home where I met her. Presently, she is a supervising social worker, handling four residential social workers assigned to four different homes. Ate Manel focuses on case management requirements for the children living in these homes.
Whenever a child is set to leave the home for adoption, Ate Manel would start to cry and her emotions would affect you so much you are bound to cry with her, perhaps even louder than her. But the tears you will share emanate from love and happiness. Finally, the child would have a family to call his/her own.
There is a promise of a more comfortable life for the child and better educational opportunities. But you know you will miss the child terribly. A child you cared for and helped nurture for years. You may actually never see the child again. Maybe we eventually stop crying when we remember that the distance will always be physical in nature only.
Ate Manel grew up in Bacacay, Albay so fate has truly blessed us. Ate Manel found her way to Virlanie Foundation, and the children of Virlanie (and I) have found a very good friend in her.
