Throughout the National Youth Day, you’d hear people shouting every single day: “¡Viva La Virgen! ¡Viva!” There were two central themes throughout the entire NYD: hope, just like our community’s theme verse in Romans 12:12, and Our Lady of Peñafrancia. I witnessed how deeply the Bicolanos loved her. No matter what storm came their way, they always turned to her. As a pilgrim, I was so curious about the thousands of miracles God had done through her intercession. I never imagined that one of those miracles would happen to me and my family.
From the first day of NYD, I felt so blessed. I got to experience new things, meet new people, and hear inspiring talks. But on the final night, during the overnight program, something unexpected happened. At 1 AM, my mother messaged me that my father had suffered a stroke. A vein in his brain had burst, causing a blood clot. He was rushed to the hospital in critical condition and needed surgery. I wished more than anything that I was home. But I wasn’t just a few minutes away—I was twelve hours away. I begged God and Our Lady to have mercy on my father.
When morning came, I traveled alone to Laguna. A few hours into the trip, the bus broke down. We had to wait another two hours while it was being repaired. That journey felt like forever. I sat there helpless, with nothing I could do. But I prayed. And I hoped. Hope that day felt like holding on to a single thread while drowning in a storm. I clung to Our Lady of Peñafrancia to intercede for our family—because I know she never turns away anyone who runs to her. When I arrived at the hospital, all I wanted was to see my father and be with my family. And he was alive. That alone was already a miracle.
The next day, my father was scheduled for surgery. Early in the morning, my mom invited me to pray the rosary with her in the hospital chapel. It was our first time praying the rosary together. Before the surgery, we were allowed to see my father. With my mother beside me, I laid my hand on him and prayed over him for the first time. All three of us were crying. We were praying for mercy. And in that moment, I realized that God had already answered a prayer I had carried throughout NYD—a prayer I had held for so long. More than just physical healing, He gave us something even greater: He touched our hearts. He allowed me to witness the spiritual conversion of my parents. That was a miracle. The greatest one I have ever received.
Hope and prayer never disappoint. From the very first day of NYD, through all the talks about hope, until the moment I returned home, I knew I wanted to keep all these things in my heart. I may not fully understand everything, but maybe the Lord wanted me to hear His voice first during NYD—to prepare me for what was coming. To fill me with hope so I could stand firm in this trying time.
If there’s one thing I will carry with me for the rest of my life, it’s this: Habang may buhay, may pag-asa. I held on to hope because I knew Jesus is alive. Hope is alive. Habambuhay may pag-asa, dahil buhay si Kristo.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ate Angelic Malihan. A mission volunteer for Area of Quezon and coordinator for MFC Youth LIT.
