Chapter 7: Christmas, 1898
Padre Saturnino Trinidad was a great preacher for a priest. He had the energy and passion rarely seen from a man of the cloth. Perhaps it was because he was in an obscure province that he felt comfortable being more than just a by-the-book priest. He almost sounded like a Protestant preacher.
But what I liked more was his message: to pray for peace, as Christ was the Prince of Peace, and to denounce war and warmongering.
I appreciated the anti-war sentiment. Some might call him a coward or even go so far as to accuse him of being anti-revolutionary. But as someone who had actually been in a war and participated in bloody encounters, I applauded the wisdom of anyone who advised caution.
That was something the young ones, like Lieutenant Triviño, would not understand. To them, ideals reigned supreme, and they would gladly exchange a boring and simple, albeit peaceful, life for a chance at glory. He sat beside me, arms crossed, in silent defiance.
Fortunately for him, the Misa de Aguinaldo did not last forever. Soon, the Mass ended, and we proceeded to another purpose of attending church. All the prominent families were there, easily identifiable by their crisp white barong Tagalog and baro't saya. As we streamed out of the pews, we shook hands and had our little conversations.
I was constantly distracted by young men approaching my dear Isabela. Many of them were promising candidates, but somehow, all I could see were younger versions of myself, insincere suitors simply wanting to appease their raging hormones. Teniente Triviño hurried out of the church, rejecting advances with a polite smile.
"Ah, Martín..." Florentino Paras shook my hand and went in for a hug when it was our turn to greet each other. "I have hired a good rondalla from Mogpog, and I plan to hold a dance in the town plaza. It would be my honor to have you there and, of course, Isabela."
"I will try, Florentino. Would you join us for Noche Buena?" I asked this because we were basically housemates. As the town mayor, he resided in the other wing of the Casa Real.
"Thank you, Martín, but we have planned our own..." Florentino replied.