Cell phone Stand

Cell phone Stand 

1/8" thick White PVC

Tonferns Creations

Cell Phone Stand

Folding Cell phone Stand

1/4" Width White PVC

Tonferns Creations

School Concert Days at Monte de Guirim, Goa

During my school days in the late 1950's and early 1960's, the school concert was held on two days. The first day was for the students only. The second day was for the parents and the public, and also to students who received prizes. The Portuguese Governor General as well as other prominent doctors, leaders, priests and teachers and ex-students attended the concerts on the second day. The school concert had begun with selected school boys in uniform singing the Portuguese national anthem on stage: ‘Herois do mar, nobre povo, naçao valente, immortal’. Felicio also liked the tone of the Portuguese word ‘immortal’. For Felicio, it had a special ring to it as well. Also, he remembered his father reciting a prayer that consisted of that particular word at the end of the evening Rosary. 

Felicio’s mother was among the packed audience in the hall on the second day. He could not see her from where he stood. The blinding bright lights in front of the stage made it impossible to recognize her. He wondered whether his mother would cry with joy as usual, or smile. Hope she smiles today, he thought. Students who excelled in their school studies and extra-curricular activities were awarded prizes that were distributed on the second day of the school drama. Felicio was waiting among other students on the right-hand side of the stage to receive his prize. He hoped he could hear his name called out clearly. It might be very embarrassing if he did not hear, or else may be he would miss out on collecting his prize, Felicio thought! He was a bit nervous as Sir Veloso, a senior teacher at the school, began calling the names in his admirable and booming voice and an imposing personality to match, that needed no microphone. Finally, the great moment had come. Felicio was ready for his name to be called. Although slightly nervous, he happily proceeded to the stage to receive his prize for his favourite subject, drawing.

After the concert ended Felicio’s mother embraced and kissed him. Obviously she was happy for him. A few neighbours from his village were present there too, and they came forward to greet and congratulate him as he came out of the school building. It had turned dark by the time the concert ended. There were stalls set up in front of the grotto, selling soft drinks and snacks, by the light of the petromax lamps. They all walked home lighting the path with a battery-powered torch light that they had remembered to carry with them.

On the way home the dogs barked in front of some of the houses. They passed through the fields and other wards of their village. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. The moon cast a faint glow over the eastern horizon as it was about to rise up in the east. All the youngsters walked in front followed by their parents discussing and commenting on how good the school drama had been.

As the village folks approached and turned towards the path that led to his house, Felicio could faintly see the lights through the open window of his house in the distance. The front door was open. He saw the silhouette of his grandmother who was sitting outside on the bench in the balcony, anxiously waiting for their return. As he turned left over his shoulder, he noticed the lights of Monte in the far distance. Felicio had often heard that one should never look back while walking in the night. Somehow he just could not help but look and remember what a wonderful day it had really been.

“I’ve be waiting for you all to come home, and I was worried”, Grandma said, as she rose from her seat. “I was not sure whether you had carried along a torch light, or at least a candle, as it gets dark soon these days”, she continued as we stepped in. “I said three rosaries waiting for you all”. “I wish I could have gone along with you all, like I did in the past”.

Felicio’s grandma suffered from arthritis. She would not have been able to climb the hill now that she was getting older. She said she had watched a few concerts up there in the past, and had also many times been there for the annual candle-lit procession held after a Holy Mass, held every year, late in the evening of the 8th of December – the day of the feast of Our Lady of Immaculate Conception. “Come on now, let’s all go in” she said, “Supper is ready, and I have to rise up early to attend Mass in our chapel, come on, I will start serving whatever little that I have prepared for you.”

Felicio’s neighbours proceeded on their way. “Good night” they said in succession. “Deo bori rath dhium”, one of them said. “Sleep tight” said another, with a prompt and quick follow-on with: “Don’t let the bugs bite.”

Felicio was very fond of his Grandma. She would always wait for everyone to join in for dinner whenever they went out for salves and novenas. Felicio related to her about the concert and the prize that he had received for excellence in drawing. The play, ‘Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves’, had turned out to be very good and well-enacted by students. One of his class-teachers had played the lead role. His name was Thomas Mendonça. His diction was impeccable. He was very proficient in English and French, and had passed his SSCE in the same school. The students also sang in Portuguese, as the Governor General was present. His Excellency had been very kind to dedicate his precious time to watch the entire play.

The light from kerosene lamp in the centre of the table of the ‘sala’ of young Felicio's house cast oversized flickering shadows on the wall as he took his turn in relating and re-enacting some of the scenes of the play. His grandma loved him, he thought, as she did not show any signs of boredom. Even though it was quite late in the night, she was a patient listener. As he finished his supper, he looked up and turned sideways in the direction of his grandma. She was crying too. “Now these must have been particular tears of sheer joy”, Felicio thought, as he had cried too.

After supper they all sat in the balcony for a short while as the moon had risen bringing a glow to the sandy front yard of the house. The tall coconut and mango trees cast soft grey shadows on the cool earth. As for Felicio the next day was a holiday. Visible and twinkling far away in the distance over the sprawling fields were the lights of Mapusa town. Then it was time to say “Boa Noite”.

Those were the great days of schooling and some of the memories of Monte de Guirim of long ago. In retrospect, as I reminisce about them every now and then, it seems it was just yesterday. We lived a happy and simple lifestyle with loving folks. We got through those times with the basic necessities. Though hard days sometimes prevailed, adversely facing some scarcities from petrol to cereals, we learned to take it all in stride.

Tony ‘Felix’ (Felicio) Fernandes
Guirim, Cumbiem Morod,
Bardez, Goa.
CLASS OF 1964

Spring Blooms

Remembering my Dad on Father's Day.

I wonder how I could ever forget the good things I enjoyed, and how much I would miss my father. For many years my father worked in Bombay while I was studying in Goa. I remember my mother telling me he would return home one day for good. When would that day come? I had asked myself this many times over.

Every year my father came home on his annual leave. During those days he had taken me everywhere, visiting new places to see and explore, to the beach, to the market place every day to buy fresh fish and groceries, to his favourite restaurant in town for ice-cream, to the hills for walks, to pluck 'canttam' and 'cashew apples', to the lakes and springs for picnics, and to nearby streams for a swim. He had made for me my very own first mini 'robond' (catapult). He had also taken me fishing to the salt-water river, for football games in the nearby town, and to distant places visiting friends and relatives, by bus, taxi and ferry, all of which I had enjoyed immensely.

My father had also taken me along when he had gone to meet the Capuchin Friars at my school at Monte de Guirim, nestled high up on the hill among the verdant surroundings. I remember we had walked our way up through the cashew trees. On our way back we had stopped to pluck ripe cashews from the trees that grew on the slopes of the hill. It had been a great fun-filled day although the climb was very tiring. We had made a brief stop at the shop down the hill for a lime-soda, a real thirst-quencher. We had walked back home on the winding path through the picturesque village. My father greeted the people he knew along the way. He also waved out to the people who worked in the fields. "My Dad seems to know everybody", I had mused in my own thoughts as we walked homewards. Those were the days. I could give all my tomorrows for a single yesterday of that time in my life. Happy Father's Day.

Feast Day of St. Anthony

Today, June 13, is the feast of St. Anthony of Padua, the patron saint of my alma mater, St. Anthony's High School, Monte de Guirim, Bardez, Goa. 
There are firm beliefs in the power of prayer to St. Anthony and how prayers have been helpful to them. It’s wonderful that we celebrate his feast.

Today, Anthony is one of the most popular Catholic saints in the liturgical calendar. People often ask his help when they lose things. I do that myself. Even when I don’t find what I lost, it is my experience that just praying and asking the saint’s help has a positive spiritual effect on me. Also, devotions dedicated to him have provided comfort and solace to people everywhere. 

Message from Father Dan, Franciscan Media.

As the day closes on this Feast of St. Anthony, let us recall a verse from Si Quaeris Miracula, a chant written for this day that some of you may remember. The particular verse I am thinking of is "cessat et necessitas," necessity is no more. In a more accessible language, our needs fall away. 

Our lives can seem like a constant stream of needs. We struggle to meet them, and we're sure that happiness is right around the corner. St. Anthony, if he were alive today, would encourage us to choose God's way and to seek God's wisdom. Isn't it comforting to think of our needs falling away? It is to me and I hope it is to you.

Finally, as we close the day, we want to share this prayer with you.

Saint Anthony,

champion of the poor and comforter of the needy,

I thank you for having come to my aid

and consoled me so abundantly.

Help me now to grow in love

of our merciful Father so that,

as you said, the King of Kings

 may reign in my heart and purify it.

May I live with you the gospel of Christ

and grow with you in Him, who is the Lord.

Amen.

TREKKING THE MONTE DE GUIRIM HILL

The trek route to school

from the village of Cumbiem Morod (in Guirim) 

to Monte de Guirim.

Way back in the late 1950's there were 12 students, from our ward - Cumbiem Morod - in Guirim, who were day-scholars. We walked single-file through other wards and fields all the way to school, trekking up the slope to St. Anthony’s High School every morning. We gathered at the cross-paths in the centre of our village opposite the gleaming white-washed Chapel. The big boys led the way starting. We commenced our walk at 7.30 am sharp and Joseph (Bella's brother) and myself were the last in line. 

Time passed on and soon bigger boys turned into young men who then passed their Matric exams. The young boys took their place to become into big boys in turn. Some bigger boys found jobs as teachers in the School at Monte, some found jobs in nearby towns, some went to Bombay to pursue further education and others went abroad to work. 

Then it was my turn to be a big boy. I was soon the next in line to lead the rest of the smaller boys in the village. I missed the big boys especially Miki, my brother Jack, Cosme, Johnny, the stalwarts of the fifties that led the way through the monsoon season, carrying me over their shoulders while crossing the flooded streams, keeping me close to them when strong gusts of wind threatened to take away our umbrellas, and lending me their helping hand to climb up the steep slopes of Monte. I tried to help and impart the same leadership of my predecessors through the years up to my SSCE. Oh, how I miss those days! Until the next time! Remembering those who formed a part of a long line include Gabru the ace photographer, Felix, Martin, Remedios from neighbouring Canca village and Custodio by classmate from neighbouring Sorvem Vaddo.

Today in sharp contrast, Monte de Guirim School bus picks up and drops students to and from school.

St. Anthony's High School Monte de Guirim Toronto Chapter Presidents over the years