Packing up after a pilgrimage, you sort through the souvenirs you’ll bring home. They are reminders of friends made, marvels witnessed and lessons discovered along the way.

Lucila Cordovero, or Lola Lucing as I call her, is very petite. Every day, she sits in the same bamboo rocking chair by the window of her bedroom, listening to the buzz of her radio novellas. Her right hand is always clutching a small promotional fan someone gave her years ago.

Crushes are all consuming when you’re a teenager. It’s all you can think about; it’s all you can talk about.