Arling, whose cup runneth over

Twin events to take place on Sunday, April 20, will be the celebration of the 94th birth anniversary of Carolina “Arling” Lapus Gozon, and the launch of her biography, “Arling, Her Cup Runneth Over.” The book is a priceless birthday present from her children and grandchildren — a profound testimony of affection, respect, and awe for the family matriarch whose life of trust and obedience to her Lord, her deep and undying love for her late husband, her bravery and courage, her putting the welfare of her children above earthly concerns, and her entrepreneurial skills continue to amaze them close though they are to her.

Arling’s life is full of paradoxes. Born to an affluent, hard-working couple, she, out of pure love, adjusted herself to the reality of living within the modest income of the lawyer she  married — the late Benjamin “Amen” Gozon of Malabon.

For some years she raised her four children in a small nipa hut; the epitome of frugality (she sewed for her two boys t-shirts made of mosquito nets), she did not scrimp on food, and when they moved to a bigger place, for their comfort she had air-conditioning, and bought a washing machine while everyone else was using palo-palo and batya. She did not spend on herself, but had fashion designer Aureo Alonso sew gowns for her daughters at special parties. She was loving and kind to her brood, but did not spare the rod when needed.         

Arling brought up her children in love and fear of the Lord, in turning to the Scriptures for guidance, and, with Amen, taught them such values as honesty, hard work, a good education, thriftiness, and industry. It is no wonder that they would  become successful in their fields. Outside the family, many people acknowledge her having been a great influence on their lives.

Arling’s entrepreneurial skills are legendary. With hardly any experience except selling and buying notebooks in the grades and cosmetics in the college dormitory for experience, she ventured into the business of making patis, fermented fish sauce that she manufactured and sold and delivered to market stalls in a run-down jeep that she herself drove; with time trucks would pick up and deliver her bottled product, named Dalisay Patis (so-called because she used only fresh fish to ferment, resulting in a clear, non-smelling sauce). She was in her forties then.

In her fifties, she put up her own saltbeds in Pangasinan for use in her patis-making business, driving there and having a maid for company to oversee the beds’ construction. “Nanay never leaves anything to chance, she makes sure everything is done right,” says her son Henry, president and CEO of GMA-Channel 7 and who is considered one of the most successful men in Philippine business (and the one, he says, who got the most of his Nanay’s spanking.) Today, Arling’s salt production is still making money for the family.

In her seventies, she transformed a piece of stony and barren property in Antipolo that she had bought with reservation but simply because the sellers were in dire need of cash, into a sand and gravel quarry, and characteristically, oversaw the construction and management of the business with the help of her elder son, Benjamin Jr., a chemical engineer who is in charge of the family business. Today, wheelchair-bound, she still visits the site to check on the workers. There she had put up a sari-sari store where the workers buy refreshments at cost and so they would not have to walk a  distance for.

Everyday, Bible study is conducted for them.

Arling’s next venture, started only three years ago, is a coffee seedling nursery. She had ordered 60 kilos of barako seeds seemingly by mistake, but realized, to her great delight, that she would be supplying farmers with thousands of barako seedlings. When Flor, her youngest daughter (a former Citibank vice-president and now chair of the board of Philippine National Bank) asked her mother why she bought so many seeds, the reply was, “I heard that the Chinese are into drinking coffee now. And of course, I prayed before I bought the seeds.”

Arling as inspiration for legends has to do with helping church pastors in financial need, fixing their edifices, and particularly, in leasing, but not giving away, her properties at P1 a year, provided that these are used for their original purpose of propagating their Christian mission.

Afraid of nothing and no one, she demonstrated her courage one night when she was in the province to monitor the work of farmhands in a ricefield she had inherited from her parents. Members of an insurgent group came to demand that the land be turned over to them. Arling was aghast. She fished out a pistol from her pocket and placed it on the bench to show she was capable of shooting anyone who dared deprive her of her property. The men left and never returned.

Many years later, Arling was at the scene of a fire that with certainty would engulf her sister Maring Villanueva’s house in Singalong. At the time, Maring was in Australia with her daughter Aleli. Because the firemen did not move to stop the conflagration from swallowing her sister’s house, she took up the fire hose, nearly keeling over from its sheer weight, to train it on the house. The embarrassed firemen took the hose and did their job.

(To be continued)