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Yna Valenzuela-Torres

Anthony Fallarme

Rey Espino

Chito Rabadam




Our toil has ushered us into the present

Marina Valenzuela Torres


Our toil has ushered us into the present, while with faith, we hold on, hoping to secure the future.  However, it is our past that has given us our soul.  Over the past 25 years, certain people, certain events have shaped our lives and our future, molding us into the very persons we are now.  We have witnessed the close of a very tumultuous century and have hitched our wagons to this promising, yet, foreboding new one.  We take this welcomed break to celebrate the 25th anniversary of our high school graduation and to look back to our giddy high school days.  It was glory days for some; of recognition, plaudits, of many-a-wild bemusements, sorry years to others; of rejections, nagging doubts and insecurities, but for most, if not all, an age of relative innocence and great expectations. 

Let us, together then, sail the river of time as we try to bridge the wide, gapping years that saw us from what we were then to who we are now.  With relief and a dallop of humour, let us allow the memories to trickle in, events slowly unfold, pondering the lessons learned as we let the hurts sift through the fiber of character the years have woven into us. 

 Remember, we have defied the odds!

We have survived high school, college, universities, Med school, Law school, mean, mediocre bosses, bankruptcy, heartbreaks, unemployment and the likes! 

We have known life and survived it!

Beneath every symbol of success, every scar of failure, every appellation we have earned           (including time-honored “Ma” and “Da”) through the passing of years, patience, and youth (Woe begone!), scratch its surface and you will see a commonality in everyone—the stamp of “uste”.  We all queued up along the same UST High lobby, craning our necks to catch a glimpse of the members of the opposite sex.  We all sucked-up to the same powers that were; Regents, Principals, teachers, CAT/ROTC commandants (God bless their souls!), even those all-too-eager student monitors who would report you for losing your I.D. or if you be missing one of those dreadful embroidered beige bars in your necktie.  We all sang that corny ditty, “The magic of UST High….” and in one instance at least, wished there really is one.  Let us relive these moments once again, and as they say, this time with more feelings!

 You asked, “What will distinguish this reunion from all the rest?”  What will set this one apart?

The answer is—your experience!

Share them!  Please.