Last week when I attended work in an early Monday morning, I saw that the students and our faculty members were gathered at the frontage of the administration building of the college. I thought it was an ordinary flag ritual in the morning with some tips to the school populace on rules newly implemented. I realized later on through some friends that several students were being honored for passing the national agriculturist exam, one of them was Jobert. He used to be one of our student assistants in the humanities department.

Chatting with teachers, we recalled Jobert’s perseverance in his studies. We agreed that really at the end of the road there awaits the wonderful pleasure for those who work the extra pages and deservely sacrifice for them. It’s an idea.

I was then the chairman of humanities when one day Jobert, a first year student applied to me in the office to help himself in his studies. Explaining to him his work, I noticed that everything I said never changed the seriousness on his face. Even the information of his small allowance at the end of the month could not make a bit of change on the contours of his eyebrows. We ended the conference with him doing the chores at the office while introducing him to the teachers when there was a chance for it.

There were some 20 of them and half took their lunch in the faculty room. Jobert was to round them up immediately before noon break, ask for their money to get food and clean the dishes afterwards.

He would receive some loose change from us, especially during quincenas when we had our salaries. I’d advise some faculties to be cool in sending Jobert on errands but simply some were inconsiderate. Waylaid excuses did never appear, the boy was undisturbed of trivial frailties of his instructors and professors.

After a semester or two the teenager approach me while I was doing paperwork and he said, “I need a favor.” I stopped writing and asked, “What is it?”

“I have to pay my tuition. I like to borrow some money. I’ll pay it when my allowance comes,” he responded in a low voice as if afraid to break the humming of the air-conditioning unit.

“Okay. How much?”

And his face sparked of some lightness that came after a burden was lifted. I gave him the money and told him not to pay, for it was an assistance from all his mentors. He left after saying “Thank you, sir” and very light-heartedly.

Since that time Jobert became more patient in his duties, adding more extra time to faculty members. He continued to receive some tips from us. I even doubled his allowance. And whenever he had the solemn look during examinations, I knew that it was tuition time; I always obliged.

I’ve not seen him after his graduation and during that morning recognition. But I’m happy in the silence of my advanced years to have met a Jobert.