We were all excited when Baby Keira was born, the first daughter of my brother Jojo. Of course, who wouldn’t be? Our family has all the reasons to celebrate for the coming of our additional member! She has a pair of big lovely eyes, an adorable face and a cute smile just like her father's. She wiped away our pain and disappointment since the death of the first son of my youngest sister Janice.
The emotional stress we suffered over the death of my nephew cannot be easily forgotten. We prayed for healing to come to our family so we could recover from such great loss. And it’s true that when someone’s gone, another will come. She may not know it yet but Baby Keira brought us life and comfort in her own little way. Her arrival signifies that God can give us happiness in the midst of our loneliness, at a time when we were almost blown out of proportion. When we thought that death of a loved-one would always cause so much pain before we could ever move on.
Every time I see the innocence in Keira’s eyes, I have mix-feelings of joy and sadness. I’m happy to see her grow into a cute lovely baby, but then I feel a little bit sad because our parents will never have the chance to see her. My father and mother died at the time when my siblings and I were just learning to discover new things. We were very young then and dependent of them. I had reasons to ask God, why? Why my parents, why did they die too soon?
The years of living without our parents became a sea of struggle and pain. It took years before we realized that we were still alive and had to go on. Living in this world for us is absolutely priceless. We had to learn how to fight for our life; we had to deal with people who took advantage of us, not to mention the huge amount of hardship just to put food on the table. Each time we think about the past, we become stronger and stronger and move up to the stairs of life one step at a time. We looked forward to the days when our weeping would soon be replaced by indescribable joy we have never imagined.
Then Baby Keira came. Death will hold us no more and the pain of grief cannot overcome us for such a long time. Yes, we cry once in a while but still the grace of God is always there. As long as there is free air to breathe, a beautiful morning to wake up for and a setting sun to view each day, we have reasons to be happy. Our cute little baby doesn’t have the ability yet to know our feelings nor understand our thoughts but she is one proof that there is indeed life after death.
It was a last minute decision for me to travel to Aringay, La Union on a Friday midnight. My supposed trip to Tagaytay on Saturday was cancelled so I opted for a different itinerary just to appease my itchy feet. The 5 1/2 hour travel on a bus was quiet and cool with a few stops along the way. I arrived at 5:30 am on Saturday and met my long-time friend Femia who was celebrating her birthday that day. I slept for a few hours just to regain strength and prepare for a certainly busy hour later.
When I woke up at almost noon, I met Femia’s family and relatives who were busy preparing for the celebration. They were so warm and hospitable that it made feel at home. I helped prepare the fried lumpia and had the chance to chat with them. But when the rented videoke arrived, I jumped off my feet and started singing, hehe!
Aringay is a cool place, with a wide area of farmland that produces tobacco, corn, rice and sugarcane. I was expecting houses made of bamboo and native nipa roof but I was amazed of the huge concrete houses standing on this side of Northern Luzon. Even Femia’s house is absolutely opposite from the native house I pictured in my mind. The floor and walls are made of tiles that I felt living in a 2nd class subdivision in Manila.
After tiring myself by singing in videoke, I grabbed the camera and took shots of the place and people who were busy preparing and cooking. It was really fun meeting new faces with a different dialect. I could hardly understand what they were talking in Ilocano but at least I was able to befriend them by talking with them in Tagalog.
Then evening came, all the dishes were already cooked and the invited guests, relatives and neighbors were beginning to pour in. Of course, the videoke was the star of the night. As expected, the visitors became busy queuing with the songs as they waited for their turn to sing. Soon despite of the busy people around, I took pictures of every dish before it was served on the table. The dinner party for my dear friend was a whole lot of fun, everybody enjoyed singing, eating and chatting. And for me, meeting new people and discovering about their customs is something I will truly remember.
The following day was Sunday. I was planning to go to Baguio to attend the Victory church but I woke up late so I just stayed and rested the whole afternoon. Then on Monday morning, I strutted to the beach with Precious, who is Femia’s relative. She accompanied me on my way there since she is more familiar with the place. We walked for 30 minutes but didn’t feel exhausted because we enjoyed walking around. We passed by a wide area of fields with different crops, mostly tobacco and corn. Some farmers were already out there doing their daily task which is watering the plants. I learned that it didn’t rain since November but the good thing is, since the farmland is near the coastal area, there are excavated wells that help in preventing the threat of drought.
We finally reached the shore and the sea water was very calm and inviting. I felt sorry for not bringing my swim wear, wished I was able to swim even for a few minutes. Nevertheless, the fishermen nearby caught my attention. We hurriedly came to see their catch for the day. I thought I would see a lot of different fish inside the fishing boat but was disappointed. Only two kilos of fish were taken from the four-hour fishing of those fishermen. I felt sad for them; they went out there on the sea as early as 4:00 am and went back at 8:00 am for just a few catch. I interviewed of the fishermen and said that they still have to pay for the 2 liters of gas which they used for the boat. Even for that dismayed situation, he was still hopeful. Times like that happen he said, there are times they have a big catch and sometimes it’s the other way around.
We’ve seen and heard enough, so Precious and I started back home. It was a memorable trip to the beach even if I didn’t have the opportunity to swim. I promised that next time I will see to it that I will taste the salt water there.
Wednesday was my last day so I was thinking of the best thing to do before going back to Manila. Coincidentally, it was San Fernando, La Union’s Fiesta and there was a pageant night. So Femia, Precious and I wasted no time at all and found ourselves brushing elbows, not to mention heads with a jam-packed people around the plaza who wanted to see the Miss San Fernando Beauty Pageant. There were TV personalities present at the event as well as politicians who took the opportunity to campaign to the crowd. Then the celebration ended the night with colorful fireworks and we hang there for a moment to watch.
Early in the morning, I bade goodbye to the family who hosted me and thanked them for a very warm reception they have shown. Then I took the bus going to Manila. With me was a box loaded with Apple and Cambodian mango, squash and string beans. I really enjoyed my 5-day vacation and hoped I could stay longer but my duty in Manila cannot be put on hold. However I promised my friend that I’ll be back to Aringay whenever I find the time.
Place: Soriano Residence, San Benito Norte, Aringay, La Union
Date: February 6-10, 2010 Transportation: Partas Bus via Laoag Fare: Php 348.00 one way
The 7-day Prayer and Fasting is one thing I’ve been looking forward to every year. It usually happens during the first week of January. I wrote down my faith goals for this year 2010: personal goals, spiritual goals, and even goals for my family. I started praying for it yesterday which will end on Thursday next week. I really enjoyed my time with God on the first day. Without any food intake (just water), I felt the presence of God as I read the Bible, sang worship songs and played the guitar. Today is already the second day and I expect more breakthroughs!
My father was my hero, my role model and my best friend. He was my strength, my encourager and my defender. Whenever Father’s Day celebration comes, I would think of him and shed tears for those unforgettable moments we shared while he was still with me.
It’s almost two decades now since he passed away. He died in a much unexpected time. I saw him sang with his guitar early in the morning, tied his shoe lace and started off for work but two hours later he died of a single bullet. It was the most heartbreaking moment I ever had in my entire life that even up to now, I’m still crying whenever I remember.
My body was numb for the longest time; I shouted the loudest scream ever. How can a father who was so caring and loving for his children died of a very tragic death? He was shot twice and the bullet that passed through his heart took his life. The more painful reality is, until this time his death still remains a mystery and considered as one of the most unsolved cases.
As his first born, I was always his cute little girl. We also had a lot of things in common, not to mention that I do look like him. He was left-handed and so I am, he was a musician, a guitar player and so I am. He was an artist and so I am. Most of who I am came from him and that’s pretty amazing.
Our father and daughter relationship was full of joy and adventure. I would go wherever he goes, even to his workplace. I was frightened that I might not see him for a single day. However, once in awhile I would snap and get a whip from him, but after that I would still get a gentle hug.
I grew up with him for fourteen years and those years were the most memorable ones. He was there when I first learned how to draw the human figure with my pencil, he was there when I first wrote my longest poem, and he was there when I first learned to sing the song he taught me through his guitar. He had witnessed most of my first time experiences and he was very proud of me.
Before he closed his eyes, how I wish I was able to kiss him a thousand times and give him the warmest embrace in the world… How I wish I had told him everything that I ever wanted to tell him while he can still hear it. But those are wishes that will never happen, so I just contend myself by reminiscing the past.
Today as we celebrate the Father’s Day in honor of all the fathers in the world, one thing I can be sure of, my father’s memories will linger on as long as I live. Though his life came to an end abruptly, the way he lived his life will always be an inspiration to many, like a hero who will never be forgotten.
Two months after learning how to play the guitar, I wrote my first original song. It was a heart-moving Tagalog love song dedicated to God. The lyrics were overflowing with thankfulness about my new-found faith which I never thought I would ever find… I was seventeen then. It was really fun and exciting and I realized that God has given me the gift of writing when I started playing the chords in my second-hand old acoustic guitar. After that, I had written so many songs I could hardly count of. I would wake up in the middle of the night just to record the melody in my head through a small, rusty cassette player.
Many years passed by, I became pre-occupied and out of focus about the many things happening around me. I wasn’t aware that I 've already buried my talent underneath the ground. However, the Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25:14-30 was an eye-opener. I was greatly touched when I went up to prayer mountain one time on a cold January day. I knelt down before God to help me dig up the talent He has entrusted to me way back then. I really missed those times when I would stay up late in the evening strumming my guitar and writing songs in my notes. I asked Him to give me the melody and lyrics once again.
After returning home, I picked up my guitar and went back to writing. And to my surprise, I was able to write songs and capture the melody just like before! One thing I was sure of during that moment, I’ve already dug up the talent that was buried for so many years. God indeed knew every person’s desire and prayer and even the potential to act in accordance with His will. He has bestowed upon every one of us the kind of gift that nobody could ever take away. It’s always in our possession, in our minds and in our hearts. It’s just a matter of how and when are we going to use it for His own glory.
Just to share it, here are some of the songs that I have written:
Every year I would greet mothers in our church or in my neighborhood to commend of their undying love and sacrifice for their children. I’m happy for them, but I would be happier if I could greet my own mom. Sadly, she’s no longer around here with me. She died at the age of 42 when I was just 15. On this very special day dedicated for her, I recollected myself and tried to think about the good things she had ever done for me as a child.
My mom was a lovely woman. I’ve seen her old pictures when she was still in her younger years and I could tell she stood above the rest. She was tall, fair-skinned, long-haired lady with a heart-shaped face and had a set of lovely eyes. And I believe, her mesmerizing beauty was the reason why she captured my father’s heart.
As far as my memory could recall, she used to tag me along to the parlor. If she wanted a short curly hair, so did I. Though I really hate the smell of the chemical being used for curling, I couldn’t complain much. I was just a kid and she was my mom so I would just obey what she thought was best for me. After the beauty makeover and we were out in the street, people would just stare at us and nod, mother and daughter have the same hairstyle! It was really funny.
One thing I also admire with my mom was her diligence in teaching our lessons in school. She would set a time for me and my siblings to study our homework and do our project. It was her dream actually to become a school teacher so she just practiced her desire for us to learn. As a result, I developed the habit of learning and I owed it to her.
Another amazing thing she did for me was when she taught me a classic Tagalog song entitled ‘Ako ay Pilipino’. I really couldn’t forget that moment. I was about to audition for a singing contest in grade school and she managed to teach me the melody the whole day. I never knew, she could actually sing! Then she was more happy and excited than I was when she learned that I passed the audition.
Certainly, what I like best was her talent in cooking. She was such a good cook that every member of my family would jump on the table as soon as she finished cooking. Oh, how I really missed those times! Wish she was able to share with me even one of her secret recipes but I wasn’t a kitchen person then, I just loved to eat and savor her delicious dishes.
As my memory of her flashed back, I began to appreciate her all the more. Celebrating the Mother's Day in her presence could be more meaningful to me but her untimely death separated us. For sure, I still have a lot of things to write about her but it will be another chapter of the story… I know she wasn’t a perfect mom, she had weaknesses and blunders like any human being. We even had our own share of disagreement and mother-daughter conflict but when I look at her positive side, well I could say she was the BEST MOM in the world!
At the age of four, I first learned the art of drawing instead of writing my own name. And one of my favorite images was a human figure with two big wings spreading wide on his back. I saw it on TV, in books, at the church and even in my dreams. As a kid, the image was quite vague but unconsciously I did put it on paper. My father saw it one time and told me the image was that of an angel. “Hmm, what is an angel like?” I asked him. He had so many descriptions but my young mind couldn’t decipher much… I was thinking, could it be like the grown-up angel holding a big bowl of holy water, or the baby angel at the pillars and walls of the church?
The issue about angels was a mystery to me until I grew up. Nonetheless, I was so fascinated with it that I practiced my skill in drawing different angles of the face, tunic and wings of the mystifying figure. Little did I know that I would be so attached in finding out the truth behind my favorite “subject.”
The first answer came when my father was assigned by his head office to oversee the construction of a local Catholic church. For a year, my family lived at the convent together with the parish priests. Every night we would help in fixing the things inside the church especially the huge stone image of different saints. One night, I saw a white winged stone figure piercing a dark grotesque figure. It looked as if they were fighting against each other so I ran to my mother and asked. I found out that it was the warrior angel named 'Michael' fighting with a demon.
I realized if there are angels, there are also demons and they are at war somewhere. And what are they fighting for? I knew it was a battle between good and evil but I couldn’t understand the “price” of the winner and the consequence of the loser. Things were getting complicated so I decided to rest for awhile in my “investigation.”
Years passed by, so many things already happened but one day I found a book that stole my attention and rekindled my childhood interest about angels. It was a novel written by Frank Peretti entitled “Piercing the Darkness”. The story revolves around the warrior angels fighting against the territorial demons. The setting was like an action-packed movie that held my breath every time I turn the page. This book actually opened my eyes that there is a “real” battle in this world. It’s not physical but spiritual; it’s not against my body but against my soul.
This comprehension made me to study more about the Bible and what does it says about angels. I found some scriptures that tell they are real and functioning; they are not a myth but already existed a long time ago. And yes they are at war… I also found out that the “price” they are fighting for is my very own soul. When the angel is winning, it means I’m in God’s side but when the demon is winning, it means I’m one of Satan’s accomplish. Weird but it’s true.
So why am I writing this? Honestly I want to share regarding my very first encounter with this angel I am talking about. You may believe it or not but I am writing based on my personal experience.
I was then lying at my hospital bed at around 2 am. The day earlier was an event I will never forget in my entire life. Shortly before the singles’ retreat in Subic was over, I met a major accident while riding on a bicycle. My right arm was fractured which caused the bones to be broken into pieces. I was howling in pain that very moment and couldn’t sleep as I cried a bucket. Just to overcome my state of denial, I prayed for God’s comfort, strength and courage in between sobs.
Suddenly a white shadow appeared in front of me, hovering at the edge of the bed just behind my feet. I wrinkled my eyes two to three times as I thought it was just an illusion caused by my tears. But a silhouette figure in a white robe became more evident in seconds! My heart almost stopped that I pulled over the blanket to cover my face. I looked once again in fright but it seemed moving like smoke. I closed my eyes hoping it was gone when I opened it. Could it be real, could it be angels? Am I in the state of hallucination? I counted 1, 2, 3 then I opened my eyes … However they were still there and I realized it wasn’t just one smoky figure but three! I was startled for an instant then I felt a warm sensation coming over my body. I started to cry again but that moment was so sweet and precious. I really felt comforted, relieved and encouraged. When I finished weeping after five minutes or so, I looked up and they were gone.
Despite of the eight inches surgical scar in my right elbow, a decrease in my arm’s range of motion and two platinum screws attached to my bones, I’m still thankful that God allowed me to experience not just His presence but also the presence of His angels. Now I know, my investigation has proven something more than I expected, I’ve experienced it myself.
The years of living without our parents became a sea of struggle and pain. It took years before we realized that we were still alive and had to go on. Living in this world for us is absolutely priceless. We had to learn how to fight for our life; we had to deal with people who took advantage of us, not to mention the huge amount of hardship just to put food on the table. Each time we think about the past, we become stronger and stronger and move up to the stairs of life one step at a time. We looked forward to the days when our weeping would soon be replaced by indescribable joy we have never imagined.
