A Trek to a Promising Tomorrow

By Samran Semana Batara

You Shall Call His Name Samran

There are things we cannot easily change. World culture demands that as soon as a child is born,
his birth must be registered with the civil authorities. He is given a name that, whether the bearer
of that name likes it or not, becomes a mark of his person.

I was conceived in a foreign land, in a South Pacific country called Papua New Guinea where
both my parents were serving as Anglican Church missionaries. But mom’s nationalistic fervor
was so strong that on my seventh month in her womb she flew back to the Philippines. So at
nightfall on the memorable March 29, 1982, while my dad was reportedly delivering a speech as
the Graduation Guest Speaker of the Roosevelt High School, I first saw the light of this beautiful
world at the Bacarra General Hospital in Ilocos Norte. Joy and exaltation filled the room as
relatives and friends crowded in. They had been anticipating me for long and now I finally came.

Many people ask me why my name is Samran. I always say it is a sign of the significant events
and situations that surrounded my birth. My parents were called by God to serve his Church in a
foreign country away from home.

The name Samran spans various people, cultures and countries my parents, especially my father,
had encountered. My dad, who is fondly called Sam by friends, workmates and church members,
ran around places meeting people. He had traveled around the world attending conferences and
visiting congregations. He thought the name was expressive of his experiences running around as
a worker in the Lord’s vineyard.

The Child of God

I consider myself very lucky to have been born in a family that was not only a believer but also
one that actively served God in his church. I believe that even before I was baptized I was
already a child of God.

I was too young to be baptized. My baptism was however an experience nothing can rival. I was
told that it happened immediately after I was operated on of hernia, at the Lady of Lourdes
Hospital in Santa Mesa Manila, when I was barely two months old. A successful major operation
on an infant, that had mobilized the best doctors and medics whom my mom knew, triggered a
family thanksgiving that highlighted the offering of a boy to God.

God was so kind to have given me a new lease of life. With my own dad officiating over my
baptism at the beautiful Chapel of St. Andrew’s Theological Seminary just beside St. Luke’s
Medical Center along España Extension, in Quezon City, I was made a full-pledge member of
the church and of Christ, and an heir of his kingdom. The reception, where thankful relatives and
excited godparents celebrated the essence of the christening over delicious fried chicken meal,
was held at the then popular, the original Max’s Restaurant in Kamuning, Quezon City. God has
become my Father, and Jesus my brother. God was so kind to have made me a Christian, and
entitled to the graces and blessings he has prepared for those who belong to his church.

A Childhood in the South Pacific

The next day after my baptism, my parents flew me to Papua New Guinea aboard Air Niugini.
We were housed inside the wide, well-kept campus of Balob Teachers College in the city of Lae
where my dad served as Chaplain and Lecturer and my mom as the Science Department Head.

My father was serving as an Anglican Church priest and my mother as a missionary doctor in the
beautiful South Pacific country of Papua New Guinea. I still feel the security of their very caring
love for me and for each other. The love and concern of people whom my parents served with
were expressed in such presents and giveaways of baby clothing, toys and food lavished on their
first-born. I was later told that the luxury cot, the comfortable stroller, the warm overalls, and
occasional supplies of nappy and baby food were among gifts of generous people around. I
remember as a small boy owning a collection of expensive Lego blocks, trikes of different
designs, cars and a host of other tiny and large toys. I also remember traveling around with my
parents riding airplanes of various sizes, living or staying in different houses provided by the
church. I remember my parents’ friends who were very fond of me as a healthy little boy. These
care and attention brought me closer to the belief in a God who provides.

I was barely a year old when my parents were moved from Balob to the cold mountain resort of
Goroka, some 300 kilometers by road north of Lae. My Dad was transferred there to become the
Parish Rector of St. Francis Anglican Church. Mom also became a Science Lecturer at the
Goroka Campus of the University of Papua New Guinea and later on as a Medical Officer at the
Goroka Base Hospital.

The church house given us in Goroka was so huge that I could endlessly ride my trikes and other
ride-on toys around inside the house. During the hours mom was on call, I was left in the hands
of local christian nannies who were as caring as my parents.

The love of God is richly experienced through the love and care we receive from parents,
relatives and friends. He uses other people as instruments of his loving purpose for his people.

A Handy Playmate Joined the Family

My sister was conceived in Goroka. I was barely a year old when I had to fly back to the
Philippines with my mom as she prepared to give birth to my sister who was given the name
Samantha. Dad stayed behind, in PNG, because of much work. Although he planned to follow us
after, he was unable to see Samantha come out to the world in May 1983. I grew up for almost a
year without a father figure in sight.
I vaguely recall days back at my mom’s family house in Vintar, Ilocos Norte, where my mom
and both grandmas paid full undivided attention to my growth and development.

Finally, dad came to fetch us back to PNG when I was about 2 years old. I can now remember
Goroka as a very cold place. In the big house I played grew up with my sister. I was very happy
to finally have a playmate. Angela and Sammy Brandt, children of my parents’ Australian co-
missionaries also became frequent playmates.

Let Us Go Over the Mountain to the Shore

It was in January 1986 that we moved back to Lae where dad assumed a new position as the
National Youthcare Coordinator for the Church and the PNG government’s Department of Youth
and Home Affairs. Mom returned to teach in Balob Teachers College in whose campus we were
again housed.

In the compound I came to meet new playmates like Ellen a Korean and Isaac Anderson, an
American. Filipino kids like Melo and a Thai named Renai became frequent playmates too.
My parents made sure that I should be part of Sunday school and Daily Vacation School. Having
acquainted myself with friends who learned with me stories about Jesus and about God I felt the
presence of God in my life, the joys he brought, the guidance he offered, and a brighter future he
prepared for me.

Wanting to see Jesus more clearly, following him more closely, and loving him more dearly, our
group of friends always dared each one to learn of him, and to know him more personally. God
was so real in the songs we sang, the posters we colored, the gospel stories we listened to, the
slogans we wrote. Short Gospel songs became part of my games, which I hummed and sang
while playing with my toys.

My parents and their friends supplied me with children’s books that carried particular stories and
pictures of events, places, and personalities in the Bible. They also taught and let me lead family
prayers. God was so near as our family was always in his hands.

Growing in Body and Wisdom, Gaining Favor with God and Men.

My pre-schooling was spent in a Salvation Army Prep School in Lae. At an early age of 3, I did
not mind leaving home and my parents for most part of the day anymore. I knew I had motherly
teachers at nursery school and later on at kindergarten. We were fed, we were changed of clothes,
and we were put to sleep and rest, in between our play and study. We were allowed to be creative
in our drawings, paintings, and writings. Our minds were instilled with the truth that God is so
real and so loving that he makes us happy and satisfied.

Dad brought me (later on with my sister) to and picked me up from school. There was no more
distinction between school and home. In school, teachers acted as real, loving, caring parents,
while at home parents acted as conscientious teachers. We were taught to swim in the school
pool, to prepare food drinks ourselves, to play and share toys with others, to pray and sing
praises to God. God was a living reality.

Later on, at age 5 I moved to the Prep class at the Bulae International School where I met
children of different nationalities and cultures. My best friend in the school proved to be kind and
thoughtful, a Papua New Guinean boy named Moshly. It was in the middle of my Grade II at
Bulae when my parents decided to come home to the Philippines for good.

The First Shall Be Last and Servant of All

As I moved up the ladder of schooling, I must have developed more and more the desire to be of
service to others. God must have struck a chord in my heart that makes me aspire to do
something where it was most needed. Or was it a calling from God who has set me up above the
rest?

In April 1990, we moved back to Vintar, Ilocos Norte when I was 8 years old because my mom’s
parents were getting too old to look after themselves. There were pressures for my parents to
give them needed care and attention. I was enrolled in Grade II at the Central Elementary School
of Vintar.

From my second grade in that school I had always been chosen to lead my class as the president.
When I was in Grade V, I was chosen Vice President of the Pupils Government Organization.
Subsequently I was elected President of the same organization when I was in Grade VI.

When I enrolled at the Laboratory High School of the Mariano Marcos University in Laoag City,
the same path to service faced me. I served as classroom Mayor and class organization Governor.
When I was in the Third Year I was chosen as Vice President of the Student Body Organization.
And in the Fourth Year I was elected the President of the same Student Body. Added to my
responsibilities was becoming the President of the Supreme Student Council, governing all the 5
high school campuses of the University spread all over the whole province of Ilocos Norte. It
was here where I personally met real politicians. The governor of the province of Ilocos Norte
then and now inducted us into office.

If it is true that majority will is the will of God, vox populi vox dei, the voice of more and more
students that convinced me to run for the positions and the votes that awarded me the positions
must have coincided with the will of the Lord. I considered it a calling, a vocation to serve in
positions of trust. These were instances of leadership where the Lord asked me to help him carry
his cross. Of course, I have always responded with the words of St Mary: “Behold, I am the
servant of the Lord… May it be done to me according to your word.” He has taught me to look
after groups of people whom he has entrusted to my leadership.

I have learned to listen to and be considerate. I have learned, like the good shepherd, to give
myself for the sake of the others.
Indeed leadership qualities are a gift from God that calls not for privileges but for
responsibilities. But he gives the will, the courage and the strength to execute the roles and tasks
he places on any person. He did just that with me. I must be a lamp he has put on a stand.

The Future Has Opened Up

The Lord has called me to pursue my education in a higher school of learning. He has chosen me
from among many applicants to the University of Santo Tomas to pursue studies in nursing, the
care of ill and needy human beings. Like the wise man, I am challenged by the Lord to build
upon a rock of knowledge and wisdom.

He must have prepared for me a ministry to the sick, the helpless, the disabled, the less fortunate
children of his. The Lord has served to be my guide in the pursuit of education, and he will
continue to be a beacon that lights my path. He helps my parents provide the things I need to
comfortably survive away from home and to finish my requirements in school. He keeps me
away from sickness and danger while he inspires and encourages me to push on.

For God nothing is impossible. I am now in my third year as a nursing student. He will carry me
through. He must have opened for me a wider horizon of service, as a full-pledge nurse, if not a
medical practitioner. Or perhaps, something else.