Ambassador Cario Laurel: A faithful steward

There is a saying that success has many parents. It is easy to champion an idea once its fruits are clear for all to see. But rarer, and perhaps infinitely more generous, is someone who believes in an idea before it has taken root and chooses to nurture its potential to grow, giving it a real chance to succeed. Ambassador Jose Macario Laurel IV, affectionately known as Cario to those who knew him best, was one such person.

I first met him in 2005, when I joined Regnum Christi (RC) Philippines, the Catholic movement behind the Everest Academy International School and the lay counterpart of the Legionaries of Christ. At that time, there were only a handful of members. Cario was known to us as the person responsible for helping bring RC to the country. Later, when I joined the movement’s youth missionary program abroad, I would learn that he—along with other RC members—had quietly donated to support our journey, despite barely knowing us.

It was through Mano Amiga Philippines, however, that I had the privilege of working closely with him. At the time, Everest Academy had just opened, and RC hoped to start another school, this time for underserved families. Fresh from my missionary year in Mexico, I signed on in May 2008, to help build it. All I had was a PowerPoint deck of stories about Mano Amiga’s success in Latin America and a promise that we would do our best to replicate the same impact here. That was enough for Cario. He became our first board chair and our most steadfast advocate. What many don’t know is that the school’s first large donation came from the Laurel family. That generous gift enabled me to hire a principal along with three teachers and to open a school with 30 scholars by September of that year.

Cario recruited others to the cause in creative ways. He’d ask me to meet him in Manila Golf every week so we could “ambush” his friends after their round. During these impromptu pitches, he passionately vouched for the project. Looking back, one reason why Mano Amiga earned early support was because he willingly lent his credibility to the organization without hesitation. I was 23 then, with no formal background in education, but I never felt lacking or out of place. Cario and the board never treated me like a child. My voice mattered. I was held accountable but also empowered. Through those early years, I received some of my most valuable lessons in leadership, strategy, and resilience simply by working alongside them.

In between meetings, he would tell me stories about the many lives he had lived: as a general, politician, businessman, and diplomat. Among them all, he said his years in the army were his favorite because he liked the structure and the order. He spoke often and tenderly about his family, especially his children and grandchildren. No matter how old they got, he insisted, they would always be babies in his eyes (especially his youngest Reema).

He referred to retirement as God’s years and saw Mano Amiga as his main apostolic work. He often credited his wife, Letty, for being the prayerful anchor that kept their family grounded. “She never stopped praying for me,” he once told me. “That’s why I’m now here, giving back.”

His love for the school was infectious. He inspired many of his friends and relatives to volunteer and donate. At every personal milestone he celebrated, Mano Amiga was always highlighted as a beneficiary. In 2023, during Mano Amiga’s 15th anniversary, our current chair, Ver Pena, named him chair emeritus. The school also presented him with the Semper Altius Award (the highest distinction given in Regnum Christi schools, which means “Always Higher”). With a familiar twinkle in his eye, he quipped, “Okay na ‘ko mamatay.” It was half in jest, half in peace. He had given so much and lived long enough to see the school grow from a tiny model unit in FTI into a thriving, full-fledged campus.

In his later years, it became quite difficult for Cario to walk. And yet he never failed to attend our school events. At one celebration held on the fourth floor, he couldn’t go up, so I stayed with him in the chapel downstairs. We reminisced about those early fundraising meetings in Manila Golf. I joked that we may have bullied his friends into donating. He chuckled, “If they were happy about their game, they gave.” It would be one of the last nuggets of wisdom he shared with me.

Last week, Ambassador Jose Macario Laurel IV peacefully joined our Creator. In lieu of flowers, his family requested donations to the Mano Amiga scholarship fund—a fitting, final act of generosity from a man whose life was defined by it. His legacy lives on in every Mano Amiga scholar, whose life has been transformed through education and in every dream made possible by his faith in what could be.

Rest in peace, Tito Cario. We are deeply honored to have known you, to have worked with you, and to continue the mission you helped make real.