"Despair of Judas"

"Despair of Judas"

When it was announced that Henry (Manolito Cua) won second place, Edmundo Barreto told me "Panalo ka na!". Our class had won the declamation contest. It was my first time to join one and Mr. Santos, our class adviser did a good job training me at the house of Manolito Cua in Sto. Nino. I remember his tip: if you do not know how to fake a crazy laugh, just gasp! It seems just like yesterday. This was my piece:

"I will rest here, awhile. His face! His face! Not comely now. There is no beauty in it. It is scarred into my heart. It is burned into my soul and never will it lift from me until I die. Die? Will death quench the flames which consume me? Traitor, not endless years in hell can even pay the crime of murdering the son of God.

And last night, he dealt with me so gently. He washed my feet. He bade me to put my hand into the cup with his, while in my purse there jingled the coins which bought his blood. It was better for that man that he had never been born. Who? Who but I, who but I, I who betrayed him!
“What you do, do it quickly.” He knew, and kept my sin a secret.
“Friend, where unto have you come, Judas, Judas, do you betray the Son of God with a kiss?”
Friend! Friend! He called me his friend. The man I betrayed called me his friend. How hell must have laughed. Why did not the mountains fall on me?
Why did not the earth gape and swallow me up? Why did not the sea overwhelm me? Friend. Ha! Ha! Friend. Ha! Ha! Ha! The world will know Judas as the friend.
The world will point to Judas as a by word, and as a pledge of broken faith!
Do you think Judas you can hide from the father of your friend Jesus? Not even in hell can I escape. Not in the grave for the earth will spurn my corpse. Not in the heavens for Jesus the friend is there.
What hope for Judas? What hope for Judas? Not even in hell can I escape for he called me devil, and devils cried out: torment us not, Jesus, Judas, faithless friend, devil, one of whom it would have been better not to have been born.
There is no hope for you, no hope, no hope…"

A word about Mr. Santos. He is from Marikina, from San Roque to be exact.   We remember him sitting in front of the class wearing dark glasses.
We discovered later that he was dozing off, probably because of lack of sleep. I knew then he was moonlighting doing other jobs such as selling encyclopedias, etc.  I have lost track of him, since. He selected me as the team mate of Manolito Cua (former champion) for the declamation contest. And he coached me quite well. I thank him very much for that. He boosted tremendously my confidence in speaking in front of people. Mr. Santos, salamat po!