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\u00a0That Sunday morning dawned amidst the calm and swaying palms of Cristo Rey, <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span>https:\/\/buiqui.com\/universities\/<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/a><\/strong><\/span> the same palms that, over time, have become a symbol of identity at the entrance of the institution. The Father Pepe Mendoza, SJ Hall was transformed that day into a sanctuary of memories: decorated with details that spoke of the history of our roots. At the entrance, a wood-fired oven and a traditional scale recalled the trades of our ancestors; an image of Our Lady of Sorrows blessed those who arrived, and a backdrop with the school logo invited everyone to capture the moment in photographs.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n The walk to the classroom felt like a journey through memories. Some walked slowly, others more hurriedly, but all with the same emotion in their eyes: returning to the place where they learned to dream. They no longer wore the uniform, but they were still the same students who once ran through the hallways, laughed during recess, and dreamed of the future.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Greetings multiplied. Hugs that erased the years, laughter that sounded just as it did back then, questions born of affection: How have you been? It’s been so long! The photos captured that mixture of surprise and nostalgia; The older students marveled at the new buildings, and the newer ones recognized every corner as their own.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Inside, the tables awaited with personalized touches: names and messages. The Organizing Committee, along with the institutional team, warmly welcomed each graduating class. The murmur grew, but this time it wasn’t the bustle of teenagers, but rather that of adults who were becoming adults again for a few hours <\/span><\/span>slot88<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/strong><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Then came one of the most significant moments of the gathering: prayer. Everyone stood, and as the hymn \u00abOur Lady of Sorrows\u00bb began, their eyes closed. It was impossible not to recall those Masses shared by grade level in school and the days of formation.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n And then, when the first notes of the school anthem sounded, something magical happened. In the choir, the voices blended into one, with that same love from their classroom days. It was a song from the heart, an echo that resonated through the hall and touched every memory. It was like being students again, feeling once more the pride of saying, \u201cChrist the King, oh, beloved school.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Our Rector, overcome with emotion, gave the welcome address. His voice paused, an echo that called for silence \u201clike in the old days.\u201d And for a moment, everyone was seventeen again.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n The day unfolded with speeches filled with anecdotes, profiles, and expressions of gratitude. The graduating classes were introduced: some wearing distinctive t-shirts, others with signs; the joy was so palpable it overflowed the hall. There was applause, cheers, and hugs.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n The first graduating classes, the first flag bearers, the first female graduates, the <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span>athlete<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/a><\/span> \u2014everyone relived stories: of recesses, rehearsals, teachers, championships, and unforgettable classes. Each one carried their own Christ the King in their hearts.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n