A Life Louder Than Words: The Trials, Triumphs and Testimony of Fe Pendon

All her life, Fe commanded the respect and admiration of the people around her. She performed admirably as a wig maker, consistently hitting her quotas and earning incentives in the process. Her words carried weight, and her thoughts were highly regarded. When opposing unions at work needed a voice to gather crowds, they competed for her support. She chose neither, but resigned from the company instead, to everyone’s shock. She then took an unexpected yet unsurprising turn—she studied to become a pastor. She was a natural when it came to dealing with people, and her skill in navigating their emotions was respected even by friends who were trained counsellors. Through her ministry and counselling, she touched numerous lives. She was known to be resolute, discerning, and dependable all her life.

But little did Fe know that she was about to go through the most grueling series of trials in her life—trials that would shake the foundations of her faith.

Not long after she gave her life to the ministry, she began to experience numbness in her cheeks, coupled with episodes of palpitations. Initial capillary blood glucose results revealed her blood sugar to be 165 mg/dL, elevated for someone who was not a known diabetic. Yet despite that, she made no adjustments to her diet. She still indulged in the same salty, savory foods she had enjoyed all her life: instant noodles and chips, rice in numerous servings, and soft drinks consumed like water with every meal. She was started on metformin but didn’t take it as prescribed.

It’s very evident that she took her health for granted.

It didn’t take long for the results of her neglect to start manifesting: cataract surgeries for both eyes in 2020; coffee-ground vomitus due to scarring in her stomach in 2021; painful, bloody urination from renal calculi, which required a series of blood transfusions; and a second-degree chemical burn at her IV insertion site.

If we were in her shoes, most of us would be asking at this point, “Why me? Why is the Lord letting me go through all this when I’ve given my life to Him?”

But we forget that Fe isn’t built like most of us.

In all this, she never questioned God. “Ay hindi po. ’Di po pumasok sa isip ko ’yon… ako ang may kasalanan.” She never blamed the Lord for her predicament. “Nagawa ko ’yon. Pinagsisisihan ko ito. Sabi ko, Lord, ‘patawarin Mo ako.’” Many of us would blame people or things for our suffering, but not ourselves. Fe never made that mistake… even when her body was yet to be pushed beyond its limits.

In the months that followed, she contracted pulmonary tuberculosis and developed Stevens-Johnson syndrome, a rare, severe medical emergency that left most of her head and face covered in rashes and blisters. “Naging buto’t balat ako. Bilugin ako dati kasi wala akong control sa pagkain. Pero noong nagkasakit ako, talagang namayat ako. Nangitim ang balat ko at nakalbo ako.” She was also diagnosed with chronic kidney disease, stage 5, and was strongly advised to undergo dialysis treatment.

The human body can only take so much, and even more so when considering the mental toll on the one who goes through all these physical infirmities. Through all this, her husband, Ronnie, stood by her. They have no children, and due to Fe’s frequent hospitalizations, he had to quit his job to take care of her full-time and source funds for her medicines, hospital bills, and their daily needs from friends and churchmates. The once-strong and resolute lady was now perpetually lying in bed, visibly beaten to a pulp, helpless, and seemingly hopeless.

Yet in all this, she never doubted her faith. “Umiiyak lang po, pero di ako sumusuko. Napapagod ako kasi pabalik-balik ako sa ospital. Pero after ’non, humihingi ng tawad sa Panginoon. Syempre may emosyon ako, pero di ako sumusuko, kasi alam ko kasama ko Siya. Kasi alam ko may plano Siya sa ’kin.”

Fe gave no excuse for the situation she found herself in. “Pinabayaan ko ang sarili ko. Inabuso ko ang sarili ko.” She became more accountable to her health, and with renewed faith and a stronger mindset, she made drastic changes in her life.

“Hindi po ako pumayag magpa-dialysis. Tinanong ko po ang doctor ko, ‘Doc, ano po ba kailangan ko gawin bukod sa magpa-dialysis?’ Naging strikto ako sa pagkain ko. Wala nang processed meat. Wala nang maalat. Kapag hinahainan ako, hindi ko kinakain. ‘Pasensya na’ kamo, at hindi ako kumakain ng hindi ko niluto. Wala nang condiment, walang patis, toyo, ketchup.” She also strictly monitored her water intake, keeping it within 1.5 L a day.

“Ang ginagawa ko lang, kapag may inutos ang doktor, sinusunod ko. Kung di ko rin susundin, ako ang mahihirapan. Kung susundin ko, ako din makikinabang.” Sweetest words any physician could ever hear.

And slowly but surely, she began seeing results.

Repeat chest X-rays revealed her lungs to be “like the lungs of a baby.” Her treatments for tuberculosis and Stevens-Johnson syndrome, as well as other diagnostic procedures, were free of charge, as she was the recipient of certain donations. Her skin started to heal; her hair began to grow. Her creatinine, which was initially at 400 µmol/L, went down to 249 µmol/L in just a few months. Her weight went from 65 kg to 49 kg after she changed her diet.

“Hindi Niya po ako pinabayaan. Yung bills ko po sa ospital, mga gamot na P10,000 a day, lagi ako kinakargahan ng dugo, walang trabaho asawa ko. Natutuwa ako sa Diyos. ’Di Siya nagpabaya.”

She would walk daily around the neighborhood as part of her exercise regimen, and the people in the community would marvel at the miracle that had happened in her life. She would visit her doctors for follow-up consultations, and she would often hear many of them say, “Ha? Buhay ka pa? Dati naka-wheelchair ka, ang payat-payat mo. Ngayon may laman ka na!”

Fe with Malou, our External Affairs Officer and Southville International School and Colleges nursing students and their coordinator.

Although Fe miraculously survived an army of trials that would normally cripple the body and spirit of anyone, she didn’t come out of it all unscathed. She currently has left-sided facial drooping, which affects her speech, but this hasn’t kept her from sharing her challenges and victories with the people around her. She may be retired from the ministry, but she still teaches and trains when occasionally asked. To keep herself occupied at home and to earn some extra cash, she immerses herself in another skill she excels at—making wigs. Her husband is back to working as a housekeeper in one of the nearby business establishments.

“Nakita ko ang pagmamahal ng Diyos sa mga tao na ginamit Niya. Wala kaming anak, pero daig ko pa ang may sangkatutak na anak sa dami ng mga nagmamahal sa akin at tumulong sa akin… Maraming ginamit ang Diyos, lalo na ang The Ruth Foundation. Grabe ang paggamit sa inyo. Mapa-mga doctor, nurses, physical therapists, social workers, mga donors, pati driver, ang laking pasasalamat ko sa inyo.”

It seems the Lord wasn’t satisfied to speak through Fe’s words… He had to speak through her life, with all its triumphs and trials. Her life spoke of great faith and God’s sustaining grace. She was unselfish in giving her time, effort, wisdom, and love to others, and when she needed help the most, her investments in the lives of these people yielded dividends.

“2021 hanggang 2026, still alive and kicking. To God be all the glory!”

Fe with our volunteer, Nanette and social worker, Eder.

A Recipe for a Life Well Lived: Remembering Ehnard Ase Conopio

All of us have dreams, and many of us are blessed with the opportunity to pursue them. From an early age, we obsess about them, learn more about them, perfect our craft through years and years of study and training, and eventually, perhaps, make a living out of them. They become our passion, the song of our hearts, the thing we remind ourselves of whenever life starts to become bleak and meaningless.

But for some of us, life stops us in our tracks long before we even begin to build our dreams, and life can seemingly become “bleak and meaningless” early on. It is easy for us to feel sorry for those who showed promise and potential but fell short of living out their aspirations. But among this group, a rare and unexpected few surprise us. They transcend their limitations and teach us that there is so much more to life than simply chasing our dreams.

Such was the life of Ase.

Ehnard Ase Conopio was the eldest of three siblings. Early on in his life, his parents knew there was something different about him. From a young age, he learned to be organized, putting away his toys after playing with them. When other kids were quick to spend what little money they received on toys, Ase would choose to save his money and buy things that would be useful for their home. His parents observed that he was a very responsible young man. He took his studies seriously and reaped honors in school. As the kuya, he was known to be protective of his sisters, always asking what time they would be home from school or from any activity.

Ase was also passionate about his faith. He found joy in serving in their local parish church, much to the delight of his parents. At times, however, he had a tendency to go all in with his efforts in service, staying out late or even missing meals. His parents would have a word or two with him about it.

But the thing he was truly passionate about was cooking.

He was in his element in the kitchen. He moved like a conductor orchestrating a symphony of flavors—with every beat of the whisk, every thud of the knife on the chopping board, and every dash of spice, which he never measured, that he sprinkled into his signature dish: pastil.

He was chosen by his school to present his dish at school fairs, and he would sell out…always. Everyone was raving about it, and he eventually decided to sell it in school. As expected, everything would be sold by the end of the day. When the school canteen noticed that pastil had become a trendy food, they decided to sell their own version as well. But Ase’s recipe continued to outsell theirs…every single time.

He approached his business the same way he approached his responsibilities at home, in school, and in church—with care, passion, and exceptional dedication. He would stay up late at night preparing his products even when he wasn’t feeling well. He wouldn’t compromise the quality of his food, even when he was selling it like hotcakes.

Everything came to a halt when he noticed a lump on the right side of his neck. He then began experiencing episodes of fever and eventually a noticeable drop in weight. In 2023, he was diagnosed with progressive Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

Just like that, everything changed for the once-dynamic life of Ase. Chemotherapy sessions became part of his schedule. He started to tire easily, to the point that he could barely muster the strength to walk from one end of the room to the other.

It is heartbreaking to see a once-active child deteriorate before your eyes in a matter of months—especially for a parent. The son you had always depended on to care for his sisters became dependent on everyone else’s care. The budding chef who had moved so effortlessly around the kitchen became so weak, spending years in and out of the hospital.

But just when everyone thought they had seen everything there was to know about Ase, he kept surprising them.

His mother recounted a moment when Ase was in critical condition in the hospital. He was eventually stabilized and placed under close monitoring, but he was roomed with patients who were either being revived or experiencing delirium. She worried that he wouldn’t last long in such an environment, as those scenes would normally dampen anyone’s spirit—let alone someone who was still recovering.

She wanted to know what he was thinking about at that time, and she wasn’t ready for his answer.

In a calm manner, he told her that he was praying for every patient who was roomed with him.

The Ruth Foundation was blessed with the opportunity to take care of Ase. For more than a year, our doctors, nurses, social workers, and other staff were able to assist him not only with his medical needs, but also with his emotional and spiritual needs. We provided free consultations, counseling, and prayers for him and his family throughout his battle with Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

But aside from these services, we also had the opportunity to grant one of his wishes.

The TRF staff, together with Ase’s family, got to witness firsthand how the maestro made magic in the kitchen. For one Saturday, the TRF session hall was converted into an open kitchen, where he got to cook one of his dream dishes: caldereta.

It was as if something had been reignited within him. He readily positioned himself before the ingredients. Although visibly frail and in pain, he still directed the kitchen, this time with the help of his Mom, Dad, and two sisters.

As the months passed, his pain grew increasingly unbearable. His appearance became less and less like the chubby kid he once was, yet his spirit remained indomitable.

“Alam naman niya na ’di na siya gagaling,” said his Mom. “Pero hindi ibig sabihin na susuko siya.”

The staff felt an overwhelming heaviness with every home visit and teleconsultation they had with the family. But as long as Ase had the will to live, they, together with the rest of the family, had the strength to care for him.

On August 31, 2026, Ase peacefully passed on to eternity.

“Nung normal lang lahat, simpleng problema ang bigat na ng lahat. Pero nung nagkasakit si Kuya, nung na-confine siya, nung na-chemo siya… 7 days, 11 days, 21 days, 2 months. Nalaman mo, na-realize mo, mas na-appreciate mo yung life.”

Ase had a dream he may not have lived long enough to fulfill. But what he taught every one of us far surpassed what anyone could have expected of him. It is because of patients like him, and the generosity and kind hearts of willing donors that we are able provide palliative and hospice care to those who need it the most in our communities.

He was a testament to the fact that life—taken with all its sweetness and bitterness, given the right amount of time and allowed to reach the right temperature, seasoned with a perfect dash of joy and cooked with love—is still worth living.

No matter how short it may be.

Care Where Life Happens

Last September 2, the Pediatric Palliative Care team of the National Children’s Hospital hosted a workshop and stakeholder alignment on home-based palliative care, with the theme, “Care Where Life Happens.” The nurses of The Ruth Foundation joined palliative and hospice care practitioners from various fields for a day filled with insights, discussions, and activities, all geared toward strengthening and advancing the palliative and hospice care movement in the country.

Professor Julia Downing, Executive Director of the International Children’s Palliative Care Network and a global leader in pediatric palliative care, headlined the group of resource speakers, which included Dr. Resty Tan, Dean of the Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Muntinlupa College of Nursing, and Dr. Marianne Joy Naria-Maritana, Head of KWAGO-PGH. They covered topics on advancing pediatric palliative care, integrating palliative care into the nursing curriculum, and providing compassionate pediatric palliative care to communities across the Philippines.

The participants engaged in workshops that both sharpened their skills in handling community-based palliative care cases and helped identify their unique roles and contributions in promoting palliative care in the country.

The event concluded with everyone signifying their support and commitment to strengthening palliative care nursing in the Philippines by connecting people, practice, education, leadership, and professional development, guided by the mantra, “One Workforce, One Shared Purpose.”

We are blessed to be part of the growing landscape of palliative and hospice care in the Philippines and to take part in events that foster meaningful discussions, fresh perspectives, and valuable connections within our vibrant and active community.

Milestones & Horizons: International Conference on Children’s Palliative Care

Register to join this inspiring event hosted by the International Children's Palliative Care Network (ICPCN). Together, we’ll bring hope and meaningful change to the lives of children with life-limiting illnesses.

This event is a celebration of progress and an exploration of new horizons, where advocates, caregivers, and pioneers come together to share knowledge, compassion, and purpose.

What to expect:
💙 Thought-provoking discussions
💙 A platform to connect with like-minded changemakers
💙 Opportunities to make a tangible impact on children’s lives

Be a part of this event and help pave the way for brighter futures. Visit https://icpcnconference.org/ to sign up!

WHEN: November 12-15, 2025
WHERE: Bellevue Hotel, Muntinlupa City