By Andrea Vicente Clabson, Religious Education Teacher, Philippines

In my youth, the road to a university education was neither straight nor certain. During my high school years, the dream of college felt distant, almost unreachable. The future was a foggy horizon until a providential encounter with my parish priest changed everything. He encouraged me to apply as a working student at the Mountain Maid Training Center (MMTC) in Baguio City (Philippines), run by the Good Shepherd Sisters. Through his guidance, a door opened, and I stepped through.

That opportunity led me to Saint Louis University, a CICM-run Catholic institution nestled in the heart of Baguio. For the next four years, my life followed a demanding yet grace-filled rhythm of study and labor. Mornings were spent in classrooms; afternoons and weekends were dedicated to peeling, mixing, cooking, and packing MMTC’s beloved products, especially its famous ube jam. It was a life of simplicity and sacrifice, yet also one of joy and profound formation.

Managing my time and stretching a modest allowance taught me discipline, trust, and resilience. There were moments of exhaustion and doubt, but somehow, grace always carried me through. Before I knew it, I was in my final year. Looking back, I realize that the formation I received at MMTC was never just about academics or livelihood. It was about becoming. The sisters were shaping not just our hands, but our hearts.

Today, my heart overflows with gratitude for the Good Shepherd Sisters. Their greatest gift to me wasn’t the skills I learned in the kitchen, but the quiet, unwavering lessons in love, dignity, and character that they taught me. I was a recipient of their mercy, and that mercy left an indelible mark on my soul.

It feels only natural now to pay that kindness forward. The goodness I received was never meant to be hoarded; it was meant to be shared. That’s why I strive, in my own quiet way, to make a difference in the lives of others. If I can offer even a fraction of the support and belief that were once given to me, I will have honored the legacy of the sisters in the most meaningful way I know.

This journey came full circle on August 22, 2025, the Feast of the Queenship of Mary, when I visited the former local community leader who had welcomed me into MMTC more than two decades ago. Now 95 years old and residing at the Good Shepherd Convent in Quezon City, she radiates the same grace that once changed my life. Seeing her again was a sacred reminder of the seeds of mercy planted long ago.

My life has been profoundly shaped by the wisdom of Santa María Eufrasia, the foundress of the Sisters of the Good Shepherd. Her words were more than inspirational quotes, they became guiding principles etched into my heart.

"A person is of more value than the whole world” reminded me, especially during my most difficult moments, that my worth was not defined by my circumstances but by the divine image within me.

 "Do well all that you do” taught me that even the smallest task, whether peeling vegetables or packing jars of ube, could be an offering of excellence and love.

And her humble confession, “I have no great talent. I only loved, but I loved with all the strength of my soul,” revealed to me that greatness lies not in accolades but in the depth of our compassion.

These words became a compass, pointing me toward a life of purpose, mercy, and wholehearted service.

These were not mere slogans on a wall. They were the living spirit of a mission I have come to understand more deeply with time. The work of the Good Shepherd Sisters is not a distant ministry; it is a heartbeat of mercy in our world. This is the Church at its most authentic: not a fortress on a hill, but a community sent forth, as the Second Vatican Council envisioned, to heal a wounded world.

The sisters embody a sacred rhythm at the heart of our faith. They move between two worlds: the bustling realm of human need and the quiet sanctuary of prayer. They run shelters, schools, and centers that bind up the wounds of injustice. This is love in action. But that action is always rooted in contemplation. In the silence before God, they draw from the wellspring of mercy, ensuring their work remains a mission, not just a service. Without prayer, action becomes hollow. Without action, prayer becomes self-contained.

And who is the focus of this tender love? Especially women and girls, those whom society often overlooks. In them, the sisters see not problems to be solved, but persons to be loved. They answer the Church’s call to uphold the “exalted dignity” of every human being.

This dignity is not earned; it is inherent, stamped upon our souls by the Creator. Where the world sees shame or failure, the sisters see the face of Christ. They do not merely offer aid; they proclaim a truth the world forgets: “You are not defined by your past or your poverty. You are a beloved child of God.''

By restoring hope and offering a loving community, they wipe away the stain of injustice to reveal the radiant image of God within each person. Their mission is a symphony, blending the Church’s call to be missionary with its passion for human dignity. From global advocacy to the simple act of mentoring a student, every note sings the same truth: every person is of infinite worth, for whom Christ gave his life.

My own story, from a struggling student to an educator, is a living echo of Jesus’ words: “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). The sisters didn’t just give me a job; they gave me a life of purpose, dignity, and love. And now, in my classroom, I strive to pass on that same gift, to see God in every student, just as the sisters once saw God in me.

First published by Radio Veritas Asia on October 20, 2025, (access aquí) and reprinted here with their kind permission.