Chapter V: Nagcurangan
Benigno and Christine find themselves at the Vigan Cathedral once more, the serene atmosphere drawing them in. The couple, now regular visitors, seeks solace in the act of lighting candles—a small yet meaningful ritual to ease the burden in their hearts. At the candle station near the Lourdes Grotto, Christine pauses to select three candles—white for peace, red for love, and green for hope. As she lights each one, she silently prays, her lips moving in whispers."Panginoon, kahit nasaan man ang anak namin, sana alagaan niyo siya," she murmurs. Beside her, Benigno lights his own candle. Though he doesn't say much, his furrowed brow and tight grip on the candle reveal his internal struggle."Christine," he says softly, breaking the silence."Minsan, iniisip ko... kung pwede ba nating maramdaman ulit na may anak tayo." Christine nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears."Ako rin, Ben. Gusto kong maramdaman na hindi tayo nagkulang bilang magulang." As they finish their prayers, they notice a familiar figure lying near the northern side door of the cathedral. It's the same beggar they had encountered days ago, now curled up on the cold stone floor. A grumpy old man approaches the beggar, his face twisted with disdain."Hoy, haan nga dita ti tambayam, okissabam! Tumakder ka dita ken agbirok ka man met sabali pagturogam! Ayy ammok! Inka diay kumbento!"(Hoy, hindi dito ang tambayan mo! Tumayo ka riyan at humanap ng ibang matutulugan! Ayy alam ko! Punta ka sa kumbento!), the man barks, his voice echoing in the quiet courtyard. Christine flinches at the harsh words, and Benigno instinctively steps forward, but before he can intervene, another figure emerges from the shadows."Sandali lang," a calm yet authoritative voice interrupts. It's Fr. Floro Crisostomo, the Parish Priest. Dressed in his cassock, he approaches the scene with a serene but commanding presence."Apay kadi nga papanawem daytoy nga tao?"(Bakit mo pinapaalis ang taong ito?) Fr. Floro asks the old man gently but firmly. The man stammers, his earlier confidence faltering under the priest's gaze."Eh, Father... haan nga mayat ditoy ken adda suna swelo. Nagmadi nga kitkitan, kasla pay aso..."(Eh, Father... hindi maganda na nandito siya at nasa sahig. Ang hirap pagmasdan, parang aso...) Fr. Floro shakes his head, a hint of disappointment in his expression."Ti Simbaan ket pagtaengan iti amin, lallalo kadagiti agkasapulan. Nu adda man problema, tulungan tayo isuna, haan nga ilibak"(Ang Simbahan ay tahanan ng lahat, lalo na ng nangangailangan. Kung may problema, tulungan natin siya, hindi itaboy) He kneels beside the beggar and places a comforting hand on his shoulder."Tayo na, hijo. Halika sa kumbento, may mainit na sopas doon." The beggar, who had been silent throughout the ordeal, slowly sits up and nods. His face, though unkempt and weary, shows a flicker of gratitude. Benigno and Christine exchange glances, their hearts heavy with a mix of guilt and compassion. As the priest leads the beggar toward the convent, the couple silently follows, unable to shake the memory of the night they ratted out Regie. Inside the convent, they find themselves in a modest room where Fr. Floro offers the beggar a seat and a warm bowl of soup. The priest notices the couple standing by the door and gestures for them to come in."Magandang gabi po," Christine begins hesitantly."Pasensya na po, pero gusto lang sana naming malaman... sino po siya?" Fr. Floro smiles warmly and takes a seat opposite the beggar."Siya si Isko," he says simply. The name hangs in the air, and Christine feels a pang in her chest."Isko... ilang taon na po siya?""Sa tingin ko'y nasa 20 o 21 na siya," the priest replies."Napadpad siya rito noong isang taon pa. Hindi niya masyadong kinukuwento ang kanyang nakaraan, pero halata namang marami siyang pinagdaanan." Benigno furrows his brow, his thoughts racing."Father, bakit siya nananatili rito?" Fr. Floro's expression softens."Ang sabi niya, may hinahanap siya. Pero hanggang ngayon, hindi ko pa rin alam kung ano o sino iyon. Ang mahalaga, natutulungan siya ng Simbahan, kahit papaano." Christine watches Isko as he quietly eats his soup. There's something about him—the way he moves, the way his eyes dart around the room—that tugs at her heartstrings."Ben," she whispers, her voice trembling."Parang... parang may kung ano sa kanya..." Benigno places a reassuring hand on her shoulder."Huwag kang magmadali, Christine. Magdasal tayo, baka ito'y sagot na hinihintay natin." As Christine and Benigno linger in the convent, Fr. Floro notices their genuine interest in Isko. He settles into his chair, his warm demeanor inviting conversation."Alam niyo," he begins, his voice thoughtful,"may kuwento ako tungkol kay Isko na gusto kong ibahagi sa inyo." The couple leans forward, intrigued. A year earlier, just before the bustling season of Simbang Gabi, Fr. Floro recalls preparing the cathedral for the influx of faithful devotees. The air was crisp with December's chill, and the churchyard was alive with the hum of volunteers. Late one evening, as he locked up the main doors, a frail figure approached him—Isko. His clothes were torn, his face was gaunt, and his hands trembled as he reached out."Padre, maawa po kayo," Isko had said, his voice barely audible."Kahit ano lang po... pagkain, lugar na matutulugan..." At first, Fr. Floro hesitated. The church's resources were stretched thin, and offering help to one person could complicate matters. But then, he looked into Isko's eyes—eyes brimming with desperation yet holding onto a flicker of hope. He couldn't turn him away."Halika," Fr. Floro had said, guiding Isko into the convent. That night, he gave Isko a meal, a blanket, and a corner to sleep in. In the days that followed, Isko began to repay the priest's kindness in small but meaningful ways. He swept the churchyard each morning, his diligence earning the quiet admiration of the parish staff. During Semana Santa, Isko's handiwork shone as he helped decorate the carrozas, his artistry turning them into elegant spectacles that drew praise from the community. Returning to the present, Fr. Floro smiles wistfully."Isko has a good heart," he says."He may have come from nothing, but he's proven himself to be reliable and kind." Christine wipes a tear from her cheek."Napakabuti po pala ng bata," she says softly. Benigno, who has been deep in thought, suddenly speaks."Father, may tanong kami. Pwede po ba naming ampunin si Isko?" Fr. Floro looks at the couple, a mix of surprise and joy flickering across his face."Gusto niyo siyang ampunin?" Christine nods fervently."Father, pakiramdam ko, si Isko ang sagot sa mga panalangin namin. Gusto naming magkaroon muli ng anak... at sa kanya, parang may koneksyon kami." For a moment, Fr. Floro hesitates, weighing the decision."Alam niyo, Isko is free to choose his path," he says finally."Pero natutuwa ako na may nakakita ng halaga niya. Paano kung tanungin natin siya muna?" The priest calls for Isko, who emerges shyly from the convent's kitchen. Fr. Floro gently explains the couple's offer."Isko," he says,"ang mag-asawang ito ay nais kang ampunin. Gusto nilang maging bahagi ka ng pamilya nila. Ano sa tingin mo?" Isko looks at Benigno and Christine, his eyes wide with disbelief."Ako po? Bakit po ako?" Christine steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder."Kasi, anak, nararamdaman namin na may espesyal sa'yo. Gusto ka naming bigyan ng tahanan at pagmamahal na nararapat sa'yo." Tears stream down Isko's face as he nods."Salamat po," he whispers."Oo po, tatanggapin ko." That evening, Benigno and Christine bring Isko home. The journey back is quiet but filled with an unspoken understanding between the three. Upon arriving, Christine shows Isko around the house, introducing him to the modest yet welcoming space they now share."This is your home now, Isko," Benigno says, his voice steady but warm."Ang tahanang ito ay para sa atin." Christine adds with a smile,"At simula ngayon, hindi ka na mag-iisa." For the first time in years, Isko feels a sense of belonging, a glimmer of hope that perhaps his life is finally turning for the better.