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Chapter V: The Test
The morning sun filters through the windows of the training room as Liz and Wyn settle into their seats. It's their third training session, and the anticipation buzzing in the air feels different. Bro. Padilla walks to the front, holding a clipboard and wearing a smile that somehow makes everyone both calm and nervous at once.
"Good morning, everyone," he begins, adjusting his glasses.
"Today will be a little different. We'll have our usual lecture this morning, but this afternoon, there will be a quiz."
A soft murmur of surprise ripples through the room. Wyn nudges Liz with her elbow.
"Quiz?" Wyn whispers, her eyes wide.
"Since when was this a thing?"
"Since now, apparently," Liz replies, though her calm demeanor masks the little flutter in her chest.
"And here's the twist," Bro. Padilla continues, grinning.
"The quiz will be facilitated by no less than our school chancellor, Fr. Edgar B. Leon."
The room falls silent for a beat, then explodes with murmurs. Everyone knows the chancellor is strict but fair, and his presence alone adds weight to the upcoming quiz.
"We'll review important topics this morning," Bro. Padilla says, his tone encouraging.
"I'm sure you'll all do great."
As the murmurs fade, Bro. Padilla launches into his discussion about the liturgical calendar.
"Let's start with Advent," Bro. Padilla begins, pacing slowly as he speaks.
"Can anyone tell me what it signifies?"
A hand shoots up from the back.
"Isn't it about waiting for Christmas?"
"Correct, but it's more than that," he says, nodding.
"It's a time of preparation and penance as we anticipate the coming of Christ."
He moves on to discuss Christmas, Lent, Holy Week, Easter, and the Ordinary Time, explaining the significance of each season. Then, he asks,
"Does anyone know what colors priests wear during these occasions?"
The room falls silent. Eyes dart around, hoping someone else will answer. Wyn leans toward Liz and whispers,
"Please tell me you know this. You always know everything."
Liz's mind flashes back to a warm afternoon in the Cathedral.
Bennett had brought her to the sacristy, where a row of priestly vestments hung in a spectrum of colors.
"See these?" he said, running his hand along the fabrics.
"Each color has a meaning, and they're worn depending on the occasion."
He pointed to the green vestment.
"Ordinary Time. It symbolizes hope and life."
The red caught Liz's eye next.
"For the feasts of martyrs and Pentecost," Bennett explained.
"Red for the blood of martyrs and the fire of the Holy Spirit."
He moved on to purple and pink.
"Purple is for Advent and Lent—times of preparation and penance. Pink is worn only twice a year during Gaudete Sunday in Advent and Laetare Sunday in Lent. It signifies joy in the midst of penance."
Liz's fingers brushed the white garment.
"White is for Christmas, Easter, and other celebrations like weddings and baptisms," Bennett continued, smiling.
"And blue? That's for feasts of the Blessed Virgin Mary."
Liz remembered nodding, taking it all in.
The memory fades, and Liz finds herself back in the present. She raises her hand confidently.
"Green for Ordinary Time, red for Pentecost and feasts of martyrs, purple for Advent and Lent, pink for Gaudete and Laetare Sundays, white for Christmas and Easter, and blue for Marian feasts."
The room turns to her in awe. Bro. Padilla claps his hands together.
"Outstanding, Liz!" he exclaims.
"You're absolutely correct."
Liz feels her cheeks warm at the praise, but Wyn leans over, her voice low but teasing.
"What are you? A robot? How do you know all this stuff?"
Liz smirks.
"A great and loving mentor taught me."
Bro. Padilla tilts his head curiously.
"Who's this mentor of yours, Liz?"
She hesitates for a moment but then answers with a soft smile.
"Someone who inspired me to follow this path."
The class claps, and Liz sits down, avoiding Wyn's sly grin.
"I think I know who you're talking about," Wyn whispers.
"Shut up," Liz retorts, nudging her playfully.
As the morning session concludes, Bro. Padilla announces a short break before the quiz.
"Use this time to review and prepare," he advises.
Liz and Wyn step outside to get some air. Wyn stretches her arms.
"Okay, seriously, you need to tell me your secret. Are you secretly reading theology books at night?"
Liz laughs.
"Nope. I just have... good memories, that's all."
"Sure, memories," Wyn teases.
The afternoon comes quickly. The students gather in the room again, and the air feels heavier with the anticipation of the quiz. Fr. Leon walks in, his tall frame and stern expression commanding attention.
"Good afternoon," he says, his voice deep and steady.
"This quiz is not just about knowledge. It's about understanding the essence of your calling as altar servers. Let's begin."
Papers are handed out, and Liz takes a deep breath as she flips her sheet over. She glances at the first question: What is the significance of Advent in the Church calendar?
As she writes, her thoughts drift briefly to Bennett. She imagines him standing beside her, smiling warmly, and it gives her the confidence to keep going.
The quiz ends an hour later. As the students hand in their papers, Liz feels a sense of relief and accomplishment.
Wyn groans dramatically as they leave the room.
"That was brutal. How do you think you did?"
Liz shrugs with a small smile.
"We'll see."
"I bet you aced it," Wyn says, bumping her shoulder.
"You always do."
Liz laughs, feeling lighter. She doesn't know what the results will be, but one thing is certain—Bennett's guidance continues to lead her, even in his absence.
As the afternoon quiz concludes, the students begin gathering their things, eager to leave and enjoy the rest of the day. Liz leans back in her chair, content but calm, while Wyn seems preoccupied.
"Let's grab some snacks later," Wyn says, attempting to mask her nervousness.
Before they can stand, Bro. Padilla re-enters the room, his expression calm but firm.
"Not so fast, everyone. Stay seated. We're checking the papers now."
A collective groan rises from the class, but they obey. Liz exchanges a glance with Wyn, who bites her lip.
"I hate this part," Wyn mutters.
"I feel like I failed."
"Don't stress," Liz replies gently.
"What matters is we tried."
"Easy for you to say. You probably aced it."
As Bro. Padilla reviews the papers, the room is filled with murmurs and hushed conversations. Eventually, he steps forward, holding the stack of graded quizzes.
"All right, let's go over the scores," he announces.
"You all did well overall, but as always, there's room for improvement."
He begins reading out the results one by one, each name accompanied by a score.
"Wynona Perez, 10 out of 15."
Wyn sinks in her chair, whispering to Liz,
"Told you. Barely passing."
Liz offers her a reassuring smile, but her heart skips a beat when Bro. Padilla calls her name.
"Eliza Flores, 15 out of 15. Perfect score."
The room erupts into applause, and Liz feels her cheeks flush. She nods modestly, her voice quiet.
"Thank you, Brother."
Bro. Padilla beams at her.
"Outstanding work, Liz. Keep this up, and you'll inspire not just your peers but also future altar servers."
As Liz goes home, together with her grandma, she clutches her bag tightly, a quiet sense of pride bubbling inside her. Passing by the municipality of San Agustin, feeling the breeze on the bus. Then, upon reaching Bantaoan, her family's modest house comes into view, and the familiar smell of sinigang wafts through the air.
The door creaks open, Dominga and Dolores greet her with warm smiles.
"Liz, how was your day?" Dominga asks, wiping her hands on her apron.
Liz sets her bag down and grins.
"I got a perfect score on the quiz."
The room comes alive with cheers and applause.
"Bravo, Liz!" Dolores exclaims, pulling Liz into a hug.
"We're so proud of you."
Grandma's eyes glisten with pride.
"Bennett would be proud, too," she says softly.
"He always believed in you."
They sit down for dinner, the table filled with laughter and stories. Liz feels a deep warmth in her heart as she listens to her family's encouragement.
Later that night, Liz kneels by her bedside, her hands clasped in prayer.
"Thank you, Lord, for today's blessings. Guide me to keep doing my best, for my family, for Bennett, and for You."
As she slips under the covers, sleep comes quickly.
In her dreams, the familiar grandeur of the Catedral Metropolitana de San Pablo comes to life. The scent of polished wood and aged stone fills the air as she walks down the aisle with Bennett by her side.
"Liz," Bennett says, his voice gentle yet firm.
"Do you know what makes this cathedral so special?"
She shakes her head, her eyes wide with wonder.
He gestures toward the confession booths.
"These are where people bare their souls, seeking forgiveness. It's one of the most sacred acts of faith."
He leads her further, stopping by the ornate retablos lining the walls. The gilded carvings shimmer in the dim light.
"These retablos," Bennett explains,
"honor the saints who guide us. They remind us of their sacrifices and intercessions."
As they approach the grand Retablo Mayor, Liz's breath catches. The image of La Sagrada Familia is enthroned at its center, its serene faces glowing under the soft candlelight.
"Beautiful," Liz whispers.
Bennett looks at her, his eyes soft yet serious.
"I promise to always walk beside you, Liz. No matter what."
Liz meets his gaze, her heart swelling.
"I promise, too, Bennett. Always."
They embrace, the warmth of his presence filling her dream.
After a moment, Liz speaks softly.
"You know, I can imagine us standing here someday, in front of this very altar."
Bennett raises an eyebrow.
"Getting married?"
She nods, her cheeks pink.
A laugh escapes him, light and sincere.
"Maybe Bro. Padilla will officiate the ceremony."
Liz giggles, and they look at each other, the cathedral falling silent around them.
Bennett leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.
The dream fades, and Liz stirs in her sleep, a faint smile gracing her face. Somewhere in her heart, the promises made in the cathedral remain as vivid as ever.
24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTHrvjOMGLZ
