During college days, between the end of each semester and the time they released the grades, a halo hovered over my head which was then still immaculately full.
Electrical engineering (BSEE) was a tough course and our school, #MapuaInstituteOfTechnology (now #MapuaUniversity), was unforgiving of students with a low weighted average. It gave those that fall below the standard set by the school twice in a row the boot. The EE school boasted of producing the most number of board topnotchers during our time and keeping the status quo was a serious deal. The grading system used was numerical, 1.0-5.0 with 0.25 increments: 1.0 excellent, 3.0 pass, and 5.0 fail.
Each interim took two weeks, and while waiting, we normally go home to Bataan for a brief vacation. It was during these fortnights that I called on all the saints to intercede for me that God will not allow a failing grade. I was so obedient to my parents that I carried out every command before they gave them. The house was always dust-free, the dishes squeaky clean, and the chickens, pigs and carabaos well fed. Any temptation attempting to poison my pristine heart and mind stood no chance. I prayed like hell —I mean, you know what I mean.
Failing a subject would mean repeating it, re-studying it and, worse, paying for it again. I regarded every centavo spent for our education as a product of mixing blood with sweat and multiplied with hardships. Without a regular family income, second chances were scarce.
When each D-day came, the first thing I’d focus my eyes on was the last line that showed the weighted average. I always know that if it went >3.0, it would mean a 5.0 in at least one subject. In all those times, God heard my prayers.
That was how I survived college —my gateway to becoming a prayerful person.
Cheers! #MyCafeNotes #CollegeLife #PrayerWorks
Start here.
If you’ve been touched, amused, or entertained by this post, or it put a smile on your face, please favor me with a cup of coffee. I will continue writing.
