Rey Medenilla (Cancer) and Joseph Gelito (E1) had this fond recollection of her:  she had gold G-clef for her earings.  That's how musical her life was. 

     I never really had a chance to be close to her in high school.  Maybe because I stopped having Music classes in third year.  Members of Troop 85 had this very special perk: exemption from P.E., CAT, Health and Music.  But I rediscovered her when I was studying Sacred Theology at the UST Central Seminary.  She was a part-time music teacher at the UST High School where I taught Christian Living to third and fourth year students in 1986-87.  What would a Torresian teacher and student do in a "foreign land" called UST?  Naturally, to bond.  And bond, we did. 

     She loved and adored Torres High so much.  It was there where she spent the prime of her years as an educator.  We would tell and retell endlessly the good old days . . . how we regarded her as "terror" in her own right (to this she laughed heartily and admitted that she was indeed one to a few though) . . . the old reliable piano on the stage of the campus . . . the beautiful songs she taught . . . her favorite student, Ma. Teresa Umipig who herself played the piano for  various Glee Club stints . . . she talked about her home province and her family. 

     Behind the unassuming facade is a very warm and generous person, a typical Ilongga (she was from Aklan).  When we became friends, I started calling her by her nickname, Baby (pronounced as Bebe). I discovered that she was actually financing a seminarian in his studies . . . a silent benefactress to a poor future priest.  She knew how to give back to God the glory through her music and material resources. 

     I arrived in San Rafael Parish, Balut, Tondo in January 1993.  She was there, among the enthusiastic crowd of parishioners, to welcome me to my new home. Her signature earing was there while she waved at me from the sidewalk. From then on, she would always make unnanounced visits. I always knew that she was there when the electric organ at the sala of my rectory was played mightily.  The sound evidently could be produced only by a doyen. She regularly attended my Sunday masses until . . . 

     More than a half year ago, she called for me.  The usually healthy Bebe was reduced to skin and bones.  Her days were numbered . . . she knew it. She cried at the thought that fewer and fewer friends visited her. She sorely missed her students and the school. She wanted to play the piano but her failing health prevailed. It was a sad  reunion of two friends and fellow Torresians.  Goodbyes were said . . . and she received the last sacraments. 

      I could only happily imagine how the choirs of angels in the Father's house would excitedly welcome her . . . yes, I'm sure, she still plays the piano and sings with might in heaven.