The Hidden Gem

“Naa si Lola Inday. Pag puyo mo para dili makasab-an.” (“Lola Inday is here. Behave yourselves so you don’t get scolded.”) My sister and I always got the warning to behave at our best whenever the nun in our family was in town for a homecoming visit. As far as I can remember, I’ve only seen her twice, maybe three times, whenever my extended family of about forty would gather in our ancestral house to welcome her home. My most vivid memory of Lola Inday was her short, plump, gray hair framing her almond-shaped eyes. She would sit on a stool chair, her posture upright, arms stretched forward, wrists crossed, and her hands resting on the cane standing in front of her. She would scan the room for unfamiliar faces — family members she must have just met.

Whether I was too young to remember or too afraid to go near her, I don’t really have a memory of our conversations beyond the typical asking for a blessing from an elder (a Filipino tradition called mano) and reminding her whose daughter I was. Once, on our way home from one of the reunions, I asked my father why she seemed rather reserved and strict. He said it was no secret that Lola Inday’s mother, Lola Banang, was a firm disciplinarian to her children during the Spanish era, notably during piano lessons, when they would get a light smack on the hand for mistakes. (Lola Banang was a school principal and piano teacher.) Made sense. 

The last time I heard about Lola Inday was her passing in their convent in Luzon, the northern group of islands in the Philippines. I learned that because she had already consecrated her life to the call of faith as a nun, she would be buried in that place as well, and all her belongings would be kept there, instead of being returned home.

Ring Hunting

I found myself on Etsy one day, searching for a gemstone ring I would not have been able to afford had I scanned other jewelry shops. Finding a few that I liked, one thing stood out: they are all made in India. And then I thought, I knew my grandaunt served in India, but I never knew when or for how long.

Not expecting too much, I googled the name that she took when she became a nun. To my amazement, a lady, who I later learned is another nun from the Philippines, posted a comment on a Facebook photo of the Medical Mission Sisters (MMS) in Philadelphia, where young Lola Inday was a part of. Now the story has become more interesting! There was never any talk in the family that she also came to the States.

I then went down the rabbit hole of learning more about her. After reaching out to a few MMS members and googling my life away, I finally put the puzzle pieces together:

Lola Inday, born Cecelia Inés Canlas (var. Cecilia) and named Sister Maria Carmela Canlas (var. Carmella), first served as an RN during WWII in the Philippines and then in India as a public health nurse and midwife from 1957 through 1967. Before leaving for Bombay, she attended an onboarding period at the MMS headquarters in Philly, along with the other health missionary sisters. She recounted her travel and immersive experiences in an article published in the August 1967 issue of The Nursing Journal of India. Her obituary, kindly provided by the MMS Philippines, also has an excerpt of her NYC journey and tells a lot more about her other missions in our home country.

What a story! The more I read about her, the more I actually appreciate her. I would like to argue that the moments of silence and the authoritative character she took on in the past stemmed from a desire to keep the family on the righteous path, which we all needed (and still do).

More than a week has passed. I still haven’t found the gemstone ring that would catch my eye, but I think I have unearthed a gem much more valuable than any fine jewelry — the legacy that Lola Inday left for me and my family.

Timely Reminder

I’m still in the midst of discovering what the Lord wants me to do with the knowledge, gifts, and salvation that He has graciously given me. Living in a world where prestige and power are what people are after, the Holy Spirit nudges me towards what truly matters — a heart of humble service for Jesus (whatever the profession, or even without any title at all). This time, that reminder came in the form of a hidden gem, my Lola Inday, who, even in her death, continues to speak, serve, and bless.

Soli Deo Gloria!

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Sr. Carmela Canlas’ Article in The Nursing Journal of India (1967)

Sr. Carmela Canlas’ Obituary by the Medical Mission Sisters Philippines (2015)