Faces in the Hallway

Sa lugar na ito, hindi karaniwan sa mga tao ang ngumingiti sa iba, lalo na't hindi nila kalahi. Matataas sila, palibhasa'y mayayaman. Hindi naman lahat ay may pinag-aralan, pero dahil marahil sa estado ng bansa nila, na di hamak na mas mayaman ang ekonomiya sa bansa nating Pilipinas, ang tingin nila sa sarili nila'y mataas, at tingin nila sa mga dayuhang galing sa mahihirap na bansa ay basahan, utusan, at alipin.

Receptionist ako, kaya naman halos lahat ng dumadaan sa hallway ng floor namin ay nakikita ko. Marami na rin akong na-encounter na tao – may mabait, masungit, pasensyoso, hindi marunong mag-English, baruk mag-English, fluent sa English, at iba pa.

Sa bawat taong nakakasalamuha ko, iba-iba ang damdaming iniiwan nila sa akin. Mayroon inis, lalo na kapag hindi kami magkaintindihan. Mayroon naman ngiti, dahil friendly ang approach nila pagpasok pa lang sa opisina. Minsan awa, dahil bawal akong magpapasok ng mga nagso-solicit sa loob, instruction kasi iyon ng amo ko. Bawat dumadaang tao sinusulyapan ko. Minsan lumilingon din, pero never pa yatang may ngumiti sa akin.

Ngayong umaga, habang nakatunganga ako sa harap ng computer ko, na madalas na pinapasakit ang ulo dahil lagi na lang nagha-hang, nagulantang ako sa malakas na iyak ng bata sa may elevator. Dumungaw ako, mula sa computer monitor na maghapon kong kaharap at kasalamuha sa araw-araw ng aking trabaho. Malakas ang iyak ng bata. Di kalaunan lumabas mula sa elevator ang nanay, hila ang stroller. May katapat kasi kaming salon. Kadalasan, kapag pumupunta ang mga nanay doon, hila-hila nila ang mga chikiting nila.

Pagsulyap ko, una kong nakita ang nanay, na nagsasalita ng kung ano na hindi ko maintindihan dahil Arabic. Pinagmasdan ko siya. Anlakas ng boses niya. Napaisip ako, "Sino kaya ang kausap niya?" Hindi naman siya maiintidihan noong bata na umiiyak, unang-una parang hindi pa naman nagsasalita iyon. Pangalawa, sa lakas ng iyak niya, siguradong hindi na maririnig nito ang boses ng nanay niya.

Nag-obserba ako. Nagulat na lang ako nang makita kong sumulpot sa gilid ng monitor ng computer ko ang maliit na ulo. Hindi pala ang baby lang na naka-stroller at nanay ang lumabas sa elevator, meron pang isang bulinggetong na bata na kasunod. Kakaiba, sa tantiya ko ay one to two years old pa lang iyong bata, susuray-suray pa sa paglalakad, pero hindi siya inaakay ng nanay. Paano kaya kung naipit iyon sa elevator? Hay naku, pabayang ina.

Isinilip ko nang bahagya ang ulo ko sa likod ng monitor, para makita ko ang bulinggit na batang nakayuko pa talaga ng todo para silipin ang mukha ko. Pinagmamasdan niya ako. Hindi siya kalapitan sa akin, tama lang ang distansiya naming dalawa. Tiningnan ko siya, at ngumiti siya sa akin. Ang cute niya. Cute talaga ang mga bata dito, pero kapag lumaki na, hindi na cute, nakakata-cute na dahil kadalasan ay mataray na at masungit.

Napangiti tuloy ako ng hindi sinasadya. Buti na lang at hindi nakatingin ang ina, at busy sa pag-asikaso sa anak niyang nagngangangawa sa pag-iyak. Maingay! Rinig na rinig ang bulahaw ng anak niya at boses niya sa buong floor, dahil sobrang tahimik dito.

Pero iyong isang bata hindi matinag ang tingin sa akin. Nakangiti pa rin siya at nakayuko. Parang inaaliw niya ako. Pero ano ba ang malay niya sa akin? Ano ba ang malay niya sa nasa isip ko? Ano ba ang alam niya sa pagiging seryoso?

Kumaway siya sa akin. Naku, parang gusto ko siyang yakapin at halikan. Nakakatuwa talaga. Pero hindi pwede, heto na ang nanay niya. Biglang hinablot ang kaawa-awang bata, na parang matatanggal na ang braso nito mula sa kaniyang katawan. Marahas naman masyado ang pagtrato niya sa isang cute na cute na batang tulad ng anak niya.

Tiningnan ko lang ang bata habang hinihila ng nanay papalayo sa akin, na parang susubsob na ang bata sa bilis ng paglakad na kanyang nanay. Nakalingon pa rin sa akin iyong bata, nakaturo pa ang hintuturo sa akin at parang sinasabi sa nanay niya na pansinin naman ako.

Naisip ko, mabuti pa iyong bata marunong pumansin sa mga katulad kong itinuturing ng mga kalahi niyang alipin at utusan. Mabuti pa siya may oras na tumigil at ngumiti sa akin sa kabila nang seryoso ang mukha ko at nakakunot ang kilay. Mabuti pa siya hindi pa niya naiintindihan ang katagang "discrimination" dahil sa hindi niya pa alam ang totoo niya estado sa buhay, kung gaano kalayo sa estadong kinalalagyan ko. Mabuti pa siya malinis ang kalooban at marunong magpahalaga sa kapwa.

Napagaan ng batang iyon ang loob ko ngayong umaga. Naalala ko tuloy ang katwiran ng Dios sa Biblia, nang iutos ng Dios sa mga lingkod Niya ang tumulad sa mga bata para makapasok sa kaharian ng langit. Siguro kung lahat lang ng tao magagawa iyon, napakatahimik ng mundo ngayon; walang discrimination, walang naaapi, walang injustices. Ansarap isipin, pero hindi naman mangyayari.

Pero may takot ako sa puso, gayong ganoon ang klase ng nanay na mayroon siya, magiging ano kaya siya paglaki niya? Sana huwag na lang niyang malaman ang kulay ng kutis niya, ang layo ng agwat niya sa ibang nilalang sa mundong ito, ang kaibahan ng kultura niya sa ibang tao, at sana huwag na siya masalinan ng maling pananampalatayang kinagisnan ng kanyang mga magulang.

Pero alam kong darating ang araw haharap siya sa totoong kulay ng buhay. Nakakalungkot isipin. Sa araw na iyon papansinin pa kaya niya ako? Matatandaan kaya niya ang ngiting ibinigay niya sa akin ngayong araw na ito? Marahil hindi na. Pero ako, habambuhay ko itong maaalala.

Antagal nilang lumabas sa salon, gusto ko uling makita iyong bata. Baka ngitian niya ako uli! Sana nga…

December 16, 2006

***

Back to home page

Ang Mahiwagang Tagpo sa Swing

Isang lalake ang nakaupo sa swing na madalas puntahan ni Neli kapag gusto niyang mapag-isa.

"Sino ka?" Ang nagtatakang tanong niya sa lalake. Nahihiwagaan siya sa lalakeng ito. Paano niya nalaman ang lugar na iyon samantalang si Neli lang naman ang tanging pumupunta sa swing na iyon sa kalagitnaan ng gabi?

"Ayaw mo bang samahan kita?" Sagot ng lalake habang nakayuko sa lupa at idinuduyan ng bahagya ang swing. "Malamig ang hangin ngayon, masarap tumigil dito."

"Ano pa nga bang magagawa ko eh nakaupo ka na sa swing ko?" Ang nayayamot na wika ni Neli habang naglalakad papunta sa isang malaking bato para maupo. Dismayado siyang malaman na hindi siya makakaiyak sa pagkakataong iyon, gaya ng lagi niyang ginagawa tuwing pumupunta siya doon at idinuduyan ang sarili sa swing. Lalong bumigat ang loob niya na hindi niya maisisigaw ang nararamdaman niya nang walang makakarinig. Sa pagkakataong iyon, dapat kimkimin niya ang lahat sa dibdib niya at magkunwari sa harap ng lalakeng kanyang kasama.

"Bakit ba nakatalikod ka sa akin. Ayaw mo ba akong kausap? Gusto mo bang may makinig sa iyo? Handa akong makinig kahit ano. Kung gusto mo hindi ako magsasalita," anyaya ng lalake kay Neli.

"Pinaupo na nga kita sa swing ko gusto mo kausapin pa kita. Ni hindi nga kita kilala, ni hindi ko nga alam kung paano mo nalaman ang lugar na ito. At saka, ano ba ang pakialam mo sa akin?" Pabalang na sagot ni Neli habang pilit na pinipigil ang luha sa kanyang mata.

"Nanginginig na ang boses mo. Naiiyak ka na, ano? Sige na, ilabas mo ang nararamdaman mo, huwag mong pigilin." Mababakas sa boses ng lalake na nakangiti ito habang nagsasalita sa likod ni Neli.

Bahagyang napalingon si Neli sa lalake. Nakayuko pa rin ito at nakatalikod. Hindi niya kilala ang lalake, maging ang boses nito, pero bakit hindi siya natatakot at parang magaan ang pakiramdam niya? Hindi niya maipaliwanag ang nararamdaman.

"Hindi ko maintindihan..." tumulo agad ang luha sa mata niya bago pa man maituloy ang pangungusap. Ilang minuto ang lumipas na puro pigil na paghikbi ang maririnig, kasabay ng banayad na pag-ihip ng malamig na hangin sa gabing iyon. Nakatalikod pa rin sila sa isa't isa, si Neli sa malaking bato at ang lalake sa swing.

Ilang sandali pa at tumigil din siya sa pag-iyak. Nang makaramdam ng kaunting luwag sa dibdib, sinimulan niyang magkwento sa estrangherong lalake. "Bakit may mga taong manhid? Bakit hindi sila umuunawa? Pareho lang naman kaming tao pero bakit hindi nila ako maintindihan? Sinikap ko namang gawin ang makakaya ko, bakit mali pa rin ang nakikita nila? Sa paningin nila wala na akong ginawang tama. Kapag mali pinupuna nila. Kapag tama naman binabalewala nila. Minsan tuloy ayoko nang gumawa ng tama dahil mali pa rin naman ang makikita nila. Hindi ko naman kailangan ang papuri nila, ang gusto ko lang ay ang makita nila ang pagsusumikap ko. Masyado silang mapaghanap sa akin ng mga bagay na hindi naman nila itinanim mula sa pagkabata ko; mga bagay na hindi ko naman nakita sa kanila. Paano mo aanihin ang bagay na hindi mo inihasik? Paano magmamahal ang taong hindi pinakitaan ng pagmamahal? Hindi lang naman pera ang kailangan ko; pang-unawa, pagmamahal, mga bagay na hindi nabibili ng pera!" Muling nangilid ang luha ni Neli at sinimulan muling humagulgol. Mababakas sa kanyang pananalita ang matinding galit at kalungkutan na kahit siya ay hindi niya kayang labanan.

Naghintay na muli ang lalake ng pagkakataon hanggang tumigil si Neli sa pag-iyak. Nang makakita ng pagkakataon para makapagsalita, sinabi niya kay Neli, "Nakilala mo na ba ang lahat ng tao?"

"Hindi."

"Alam mo ba ang nasa puso nila?"

"Hindi."

"Eh paano mo nasabing wala nang nakakaintindi sa iyo? Isa pa tanungin mo ang sarili mo, paano ka nila iintindihin kung nagtatago ka? Pumupunta ka dito ng nag-iisa, sumisigaw na parang sira, umiiyak na parang baliw, may nakakaalam bang iba ng sakit na nararamdaman mo? Paano ka nila dadamayan kung gayon?"

Napatunghay si Neli mula sa pagkakayuko. Tama nga naman, madalas ay nagtatago siya sa mundo kapag masama ang loob niya. Lagi niyang ipinapakitang okay lang siya kahit na parang gusto niya nang magwala, kahit na pakiramdam niya ay parang dinudurog na ang dibdib niya.

Itinuloy ng estranghero ang sinasabi, "Kung sa palagay mo'y hindi mo kayang magmahal dahil hindi ka nakakita ng pagmamahal, anong ipapamana mo sa magiging anak mo? Gaya ng mga bagay na dinanas mo sa magulang mo? Poot? Sama ng loob? Luha? Gagawa ka rin ba ng taong magiging gaya mo sa katauhan ng mga anak mo? Kung gayon wala kang pinagkaiba sa mga taong kinagagalitan mo - naghahanap ng mga bagay na hindi ibinigay. Huwag kang magtaka kung ang magiging trato sa iyo ng mga anak mo ay gaya ng trato mo ngayon sa mga taong nakapaligid sa iyo.

Isipin mo, wala na nga bang ibang nagpakita sa iyo ng pagmamahal, o hindi mo lang nakikita ang pagmamahal na ibinibigay nila? Hindi malupit ang mundo sa iyo, ikaw ang malupit sa sarili mo. Pinapatay mo ang sarili mo sa makitid mong pang-unawa."

Nakaramdam ng galit si Neli sa matigas na pananalita ng lalakeng estranghero, "Wala kang karapatang magsalita sa akin ng ganiyan! Sino ka ba sa akala mo? Parang kaya mong basahin ang puso ko ah!"

"Nararamdaman ko ang nararamdaman mo, mas matindi pa nga ang dinanas ko sa binabata mo ngayon. Gayunpaman, hindi ako nawalan ng pag-asa at kailanman ay hindi ko inisip na hindi ko na kayang magmahal at magpaligaya ng iba. Naging malupit man ang tao sa akin, kinandili naman ako ng Dios."

Parang dinudurog na ang puso ni Neli habang pinapakinggan ang pangaral ng misteryosong lalake sa kanya. Gusto niyang harapin ito pero nahihiya siya, pakiramdam niya ay sasabog siya sa sobrang sama ng loob.

"Sino ka ba talaga, at paano mo nalaman ang lugar na ito? Ako lang ang tanging pumupunta dito, malayo ito sa maraming tao, dito ko natatagpuan ang panandaliang kapayapaan mula sa masikip na mundong kinabubuhayan ko," ang mahinang sabi niya sa lalake.

"Matagal na kitang gustong samahan pero lagi kang umiiwas. Gusto kong iparamdam na hindi ka nag-iisa pero lagi mo naman akong iniiwan. Alam ko ang lahat ng nararamdaman mo dahil minsan ko rin iyang dinanas. Alam ko ang bawat haka ng puso, ang lahat ng laman ng isip ng tao, nakikiusap ako sa Dios para bigyan ka ng pagkakataon kapag nagkukulang ka sa Kanya, ako ang tagapamagitan sa tao at sa Dios, at dahil sa iyo namatay ako sa krus."

Biglang napatayo si Neli sa pagkakaupo at mabilis na nilingon ang lalake sa kanyang likod. Ngunit wala siyang nakita kundi ang swing na madalas niyang upuan na bahagyang idinuduyan ng malamig na ihip ng hangin. Sa kaibuturan ng kanyang puso ay kilala niya ang lalake at ang lalo pang nagpakirot sa dibdib niya ay ang umaalingawngaw nitong sabi na, "Gusto kong iparamdam na hindi ka nag-iisa pero lagi mo naman akong iniiwan."

Napalupasay si Neli sa lupa na parang bata at umiyak nang malakas.

Pagmulat ng kanyang mata, nasa madilim na kwarto siya na bahagyang humihiram ng kaunting liwanag mula sa ilaw ng kalsada; nakahiga siya yakap ang kanyang unan. Bumangon siya at napangiti dulot ng kagalakang bigay sa kanya ng kanyang panaginip, kasabay ng pagtulo ng kanyang luha habang sinasabing, "Dios, salamat po, hindi pala ako nag-iisa."

Back to home page

Missing Fragments

Like music lost from its own rhythm, part of a short childhood essay of mine keeps on playing on and on in my mind – "Our house is small but I love it because this is our own house. We have a living room, a bathroom, a kitchen…" It was one of the simple writings we used to compose in my elementary level; no one may even have the interest of paying attention reading it with the first sentence I wrote. Just now that I come to realize as I understand the complexity of my thinking and explore the deepness of my personality that it was indeed a simple sentence out of my childish mind, yet profound in meaning and complex enough more than words can elaborate.

Why house and not home? Why talking about living room, bathroom, kitchen and other parts of the house rather than talking about family members? These are the questions that confuse every cell of my brain and pull me into deep insanity. Although I know the exact answer to the questions arousing in my mind, in most cases I resist to accept it, pretending it didn't really occur once in my life, that it was just a part of my wild imagination. But the pain I feel proves it to be true, it did really happen once in my life, and I am now a living testimony to that fact.

Yes, I am a living proof of how a person could be so incomplete growing up with a broken home. That person will always look for the missing part of his being caused by the selfish act of his parents thinking that they have done what's best but only for their selves. I haven't realized how painful it feels until I've grown up to my adulthood. I found out this time that I nurtured all my heartaches and carried them as I grow up. I discovered to myself that I had hidden hatreds deep within me, waiting to burst out in extreme breathtaking force.

"Father", what a sweet name to utter that pronouncing each letter causes every nerve cell of my body to shiver. A name full of honor and power which I refused to call the man whom God had used as an instrument to make my existence in this world come into reality. Deep in my heart lays steadily a deceiving lie which I stirred with truth and refused to be imaginary; I always imagine yelling to that man in extreme force, "My father is dead and he had never been like you!"

Fury encompasses my whole being whenever I see him. Forgiveness had never been clearly defined in my vocabulary because of the pain he caused us. I blamed him for everything, for all the hardships we suffered because of his irresponsible deeds. But there was no history telling that I shouted or scolded him. Whenever he's around, I simply keep that unbreakable silence in me and refuse to gaze at his face. That's my way of showing the blatant anger I have for him. I slap his face by saying no word at all.

I heard from his brother (who is my uncle) that he cried of the pain that his children had caused him, especially by his only daughter who is me. But for me, it was none other than a foolish lie because I haven't seen him shed a single teardrop. And though it may be true, I told myself, he deserves all the pain in this world to pay the valuable things he had taken from us – that is the joy of having a happy family and the elate feeling of being loved by a father.

Gone are those days and here I am now, more matured, more learned. When I started to understand that forgiveness is a part of God's will and trace back the mark of the hatred I used to have for my father, I consider my past self as a cruel merciless naive child who selfishly protected her own feelings, unknowingly killing her senses to discern that other people have feelings too. A selfish paranoid little fellow who is so afraid of going out to explore the beauty of her world and nested herself under the wings of her fury and let it rule her entire being. I felt pity for myself but that must not be the end point of my mistake. Change must be done, forgiveness must rule.

It was two years since the last time I saw my father. Although it's hard to forget for I cannot erase what's written in my family's history, at least I conquered hatred with the power of forgiveness. I still remember things of the past but I don't use to feel them now the same way I felt them before. The pain of having the missing fragments in my being may not vanish till I end my life's journey to the grave but it must serve as a lesson for me not to commit the same mistakes done by my parents especially by my father. I may not be able to erase my past but I can hold my heart to sketch my future. For this, I stand firmly to my principle: I will do my best with God's help not to commit the same errors for me not to bear a child that may become a replicate of the past me. I can't predict the future and I cannot see what is at hand, but God knows every heart, and He knows what's best for me. Let His will be done.

Back to home page

Walang Katagang Sabi (No Need For Words To Utter)

Mayroon akong gustong ikwento sa inyo. Hindi niyo ito mababasa kahit saang libro, hindi niyo rin maririnig kahit kanino, kaya ibaling niyo ang lahat ng inyong atensyon sa bawat titik na nilalaman ng kwentong ito. Secret lang natin ito ha. Kapag nabasa niyo ito, huwag niyong ikwento sa iba, pakisabi basahin na lang nila.

Isa itong kwento na pilit pabalik-balik sa aking hinagap, at kahit ano ang gawin ko para kalimutan, talaga yatang nakatatak na sa puso ko't isipan. Ito'y kwento ng isang batang babae na nakilala ko mula pa ng pagkabata.

Madalas sa kalagitnaan ng aking malalim na pag-iisip, dumadalaw siya. Araw-araw na lang yata nagkikita kami. Madalas niyang ikwento ang mga bagay na nangyari sa kaniya, pati na rin ang mga bagay na kasalukuyan niyang sinasapit. Gusto kong umiwas sa pakikinig, pero gaya ng sabi niya, walang ibang nagtitiyaga sa kwento niya kundi ako lang. Kadalasan ay umiiyak siya sa harap ko, bagay na laging dumudurog sa akin.

Sa edad na 3 taong gulang ay natuto siyang mabuhay sa sarili niyang mundo. Hindi siya ulila, buhay ang kaniyang mga magulang, pero halos lahat ng araw ng kaniyang buhay pakiramdam niya ay nag-iisa siya. Bilang isang bata, marami siyang kinatatakutan at walang naroon para magpalakas sa kaniya. Sa murang edad ay natuto siyang manalangin sa Dios, sa pag-asang tanging Siya lang ang matatakbuhan niya sa panahon ng kaniyang pangangailangan.

Balot ng takot, pangamba, at kabalisahan ang mga araw ng kaniyang kabataan. Nararamdaman ko ito tuwing lalapit siya sa akin at sisimulang muli ang kaniyang kwento na milyong beses ko na yatang narinig. Pero hindi nagbabago ang takot na nakikita ko sa kaniyang mata. Gusto ko siyang tulungan, pero anong magagawa ko? Wala na akong paraan para baguhin ang nakaraan niya, ang maaari ko na lang sigurong gawin ay maging magandang bahagi ng kaniyang kasalukuyan, at maging ng kaniyang hinaharap.

Sampung taong gulang siya nang simulan niyang tanungin ang sarili, "Ano ang halaga ng buhay?" Nagsimula siyang mamangha sa buhay na taglay ng tao. Gusto niyang malaman kung saan ito nagmumula. "Wala namang baterya ang tao, paano sila nabubuhay," ang malalim na tanong niya sa kaniyang sarili habang nakatitig sa mga taong dumaraan. Mula noon, naging paborito niyang panoorin at babasahin ang lahat ng bagay na tumutukoy sa buhay ng tao, ang bawat hirap na kanilang pinagdadaanan, at kung paano nila ito nalalampasan. Sa bagay na ito, lubos siyang humahanga.

Hindi maikakailang sa kaniyang murang edad ay natutunan niyang makisalamuha sa buhay. Natutunan niyang maging masaya sa gitna ng kaniyang kalungkutan. Madalas nga ay pinipilit niyang ngumiti sa harap ko. Hindi niya dapat ginagawa iyon, dahil nararamdaman ko ang nararamdaman niya; hindi niya iyon maaaring itago sa akin. Hindi niya kailangang magkunwari para sabihin kong masaya siya sa kabila nang alam kong hindi.

Ikalabing-apat na taon niya - isa sa pinakamasaya taon ng kaniyang buhay. Sa taong ito nalaman niya ang sagot sa kaniyang katanungang – "Ano ang halaga ng buhay at saan ito nagmumula?" Sa gulang niyang ito nakilala niya si Bro. Eli, ang Iglesia, ang tunay na aral, at higit sa lahat ang Dios. Napakasaya niya; walang mapagsidlan ng kaniyang tuwa. Sa bagay na ito, lubos din akong nagalak para sa kaniya.

Maraming tungkulin ang naiatang sa kanya sa Iglesia, ngunit ang higit niyang pinakaingatan upang huwag niyang maiwala ay ang pinakadakilang tungkulin na ayon kay Bro. Eli ay higit pa sa tungkulin ng presidente – ang maging isang manggagawa. May mga pagkakataon na rin siyang nadapa at halos maiwala niya ang bagay na kaniyang pinakaiingatan, ngunit lagi siyang tinutulungan ng Dios para makabangon.

Labing-anim na taon siya nang maiatang sa kaniya ang tungkuling matagal niyang inasam, ngunit laging kinatatakutan – ang maging isang manggagawa ng Dios. Halos hindi na niya maramdaman na nasa mura pa siyang edad. Nalimutan niya ang paglalaro; ang lagi na lang niyang isinasaisip ay ang maglingkod, wala nang iba pa. Masaya na siya, kuntento sa mga bagay na kaniyang nakamit, at hinihiling na sana'y mamatay siyang hawak ang mga bagay na nasa kaniya sa kasalukuyan.

Sa wakas ay nakita ko ring masaya siya habang nagkukuwento sa akin. Nanginginang ang kaniyang mata at nasasalamin ang ngiti sa kaniyang labi. Pero sa mga piling panahon, hindi pa rin niya maiwasang maalala ang mga bagay ng kaniyang pagkabata, kahit anong payo ang gawin ko sa kaniya.

Kausap ko siya ngayon, oo siya nga, ang batang laman ng aking kwento. Ambilis ng panahon, parang kailan lang musmos pa siya. Pero tuwing titingin ako sa salamin at mamasdan ang aking repleksiyon, may ngiti kong nasasabi, "Anlaki na pala niya."

June 13, 2006

***

Back to home page

Trying To Cope Up

I miss the green valleys. I long for the numerous trees. I crave for the rain. Never that I imagined I would reach this place; not in my wildest dreams.

Lot of things to cope up with, new people to deal with, new relationship to establish, another place to make yourself known, a lot of expectations to meet – things that keep rushing to my mind as I feel the plane heading towards the ground, to the final destination of my journey. I roamed my eyes outside the plane's window and told myself, "So this is the what-so-called 'Dubai'. Not bad.

"When the plane's wheel stopped moving, predictably we are about to abandon our seats, so I gathered my hand carries and stretched my joints. "Ouch!" I cried in pain for it was a 9-hour travel from Philippines, that made my whole body feel numbly painful. Holding my things, I stepped forward and walked towards the door.

As I entered the first door of the Dubai airport, I silently observed the behaviors of the people that I first encounter. "People here aren't that friendly", I secretly informed myself. "They should smile and greet us rather than kicking my cart to show which direction I should go. Is this the kind of people here? Sick ones?"

Heading towards the baggage area, my eyes widened in surprise. I saw Bro. Mel Magdaraog, Bro. Resty Reyes and few of the Church members patiently waiting for their baggage. "So it's true! One plane really brought us here together! I can't believe it!" My heart pounded merrily as I walked to where they are standing.

"Hi, Bro. Mel!" I greeted happily as I approach them. They all seem serious, surely because they are all tired. I'm also tired, but when I saw them, adrenaline rushed into my veins that gave me extra strength to grin at that moment. "Bro. Eli's medicines are inside my bag. I'd like to give it to you now so he could take it as soon as possible", I uttered to Bro. Mel as if sounding like a concerned doctor for Bro. Eli.

When I get my baggage, I immediately opened it to get Bro. Eli's medicines. Really it's an unexplainable feeling to be a carrier of that essential thing that would make my beloved preacher feel well. But when I looked at my back to fulfill my craving curiousness of the people around me, bang! There is Bro. Eli, standing with a serious face, looking at the surrounding as well. I want to jump, but I can't. Do they arrest extremely excited people here?

Gathering tons of courage to approach him, I breathed deeply and walked to where he is standing. "Bro. Eli, Bro. Christian wanted me to give you your medicines", I softly informed him, stretching my trembling hand to give him his medicines. As I was expecting, he lowered his eyes to me that almost melted me like an ice under the heat of the sun. Those deep eyes of the minister of God, the instrument of God unto my salvation, right there staring back at me. It almost knocked me off but I have to be open-minded; he's tired and I don't want to cause him annoyance while talking to me.

"How did it happen that we rode in the same plane?" He asked me in great astonishment. "Oh no… I am not on the enemy's side; I'm an ally of the truth. Please don't suspect me of giving you a poison instead of medicine", I pray in secret as I try to open the built-in dictionary in my brain and searched for words to answer him back.

"I left Philippines at 11:00 am and reached Hong Kong at 1:30 pm, Ingkong (Kapampangan for grandpa). We had a stop-over there and perhaps we were incidentally booked on the same flight so we happened to ride on the same plane," I replied almost not looking directly in his eyes for I feel my whole body trembling.

After that simple answer, I want to talk more while he's beside me but I can't find the word to say. "Damn fool, silly, Lissa! Why don't you start a conversation? He's right there standing beside you and you can't even look at him!" my mind shouted at me with my teeth biting my lips. I want to start a conversation so badly, but I feel so numb.

I hate to leave but I have to. When it's time for me to go, I waved at him with a merry smile, showing that I felt so happy for that short talk with him. Still he's not smiling. He's really tired. So sad…

As I walk to the final door heading outside the airport, grins of merry brethren slowly unraveled to my view. They are so happy, well I know not because of me but because of Bro. Eli's arrival, but still I'm happy to see them happy. This is the first time that I saw most of them but I felt warmth of satisfaction in my heart and I felt so at ease. "So they are my brethren here", I told myself as I drew closer to the waiting area.

Not long enough, Bro. Eli came into the view and as I was expecting, brethren were so excited that they can't help but to scream. Our excitement captured all the attentions of the people around us, with their stares obviously asking, "Who is this famous person arriving?" We didn't dare to care. All we know is we are happy!

That was the short story of my arrival here in UAE. Time flew rapidly that I almost didn't notice I am now staying here for half a year. Wow! Many things happened after this event but I can't tell them all now. So many adjustments, ups and downs, laughs and frowns had taken place, but God Almighty held me carefully in His strong hands to survive them all until this day. It's tough yet satisfying. But I miss my old friends. I miss the overcrowded thanksgivings. I miss the green grasses, the tall trees, the rain, and most of all - my Ingkong.

June 18, 2006

***

Back to home page

I Do Not Regret

For sure, many Filipino families are so busy preparing their Noche Buena for this night. Their faces full of laughter, their hearts full of warmth being with their loved ones, having them by their side to celebrate this season of the year.

"Things I haven't enjoyed for couple of years now, and never will," I sweetly informed myself. I am now a member of the Church; long had been in almost 8 years. I will never indulge myself in such pagan celebrations anymore, nor will they fill my heart with overwhelming joy the way I used to feel them when I was younger.

I haven't experienced celebrating Christmas with all of my family members present, not even once. I guess I had three or four celebrations with my mom and three brothers, but there was no instance that my father had been with us. I don't know, but I couldn't remember that ever happened.

In spite of this, I know I was happy then whenever this season comes; for whatever reason I don't know. Maybe it had been a worldly instinct to feel extraordinarily elated when they feel the cold air caressing their faces, knowing that the so-called "season of giving" is about to approach. As a child, maybe I was thinking to receive plenty of gifts from my ninongs and ninangs before so I always feel inexplicably excited.

Remains of memories are still undeniably vivid in my mind even up to now. I can still remember myself knocking from house to house when I was two years old, visiting my ninongs and ninangs, longing to receive any gift from them. Most of them are rich so they don't mind, and because of that I mostly step out of their doorways carrying a handful of presents that always leave me satisfied. I realize now how shameless I was. Geeezzz!!!

But now, is it not December 24 already and few hours after writing this Filipino families will once again be celebrating their Noche Buena? Where had been the spirit of Christmas I used to feel and enjoy before gone? Do I not feel excited now because I am no longer a two-year old silly girl who is shameless enough to solicit gifts from somebody else's house? Is it because I have given up the hope of having my father with us to celebrate this season of the year?

"No," my heart answers. I don't use to feel the same way not because of not receiving Christmas presents, nor because of the absence of anybody else; I don’t feel the same way because I have come into understanding and enlightenment of God's words. I better understand now what has to be celebrated and when should I feel excited. I guess now, being a servant of God, I have come into realization what the true meaning of happiness really is.

I have just felt it yesterday while celebrating our Thanksgiving to God together with all the brethren all over the world. I admit I felt so exhausted yesterday yet my spirit had been strengthened once more. We may have no extravagant preparations like all rich families had to celebrate their Noche Buena this night, but inside my heart flows continuously an endless joy for understanding God's goodness, magnificence, and great love.

I have now stepped forward from my usual childish thinking, longing for gifts that will soon be ruined and destroyed. I am now matured enough to realize the consequences of my choice. Yes, I confidently enjoy the path that I have travailed. I do not regret, nor will I ever feel sorry. I may not feel some things that give pleasure to men in this life but it doesn't bother me. I know that resting under the wings of God's power is the most intelligent decision I have made in my life, and for this He always has something in store for me.

December 24, 2006

***

Back to home page

A Peculiar Race United to help Bro. Eli to Bring the Good News of Salvation to the World

What makes life void? What makes life worthy? People move, breathe, and live for their self-established objectives, firmly and unshakably. Are the inhabitants of this world informed that there is a Mighty Providence up above and shall someday make the human race reap according to the things that they have sown?

Seven years had passed by, when I, venturing on the deepness of things that my keenest innocence could fathom, had found a group of people so peculiar and unique in their way of living. They are a kind of people that could be found walking along the path of God's commandments, which all other had refused to walk into.

I marveled, knowing that in my fourteen years of dealing with different beings in this world, never have I encountered such amazing people in my entire life. They mourn but they know how to laugh, their sorrow is overwhelming yet they always find a way to be genuinely happy, more than brave to shout the truthfulness of God's words yet meekly endures their enemies' persecutions, always striving to do good even to their own enemies though always despised and accused bitterly by evil people.

I wandered about, enjoying the sweet ambiance that I have tasted for the very first time. Until I heard a voice, so loud and courageous, speaking with full confidence and bravery. I lingered around and found a man, a man in my own judgment having a physical form so weak, but having an established and concretely structured perseverance to risk his life for the sake of preaching the words of God with all honesty.

Bewildered amidst the crowd of people praising and glorifying the Almighty God, I looked directly to his eye. This man, I told myself, is different from all others. The agony in his eyes, it pains me; his gaze always searching for something that is hidden behind everything. Yes, I found a congregation that other people may find odd, unique and peculiar, working hand in hand to help a preacher uniquely propagating the untarnished truth written in the Bible.

I discovered that the congregation is called The Members of the Church of God International. I found out that they are being led by a courageous leader named Bro. Eliseo Fernando Soriano. I haven't looked for them but God walked with me along the confusing crossroads of life and directed my feet to a group of people with whom I can say with all confidence, "I belong".

Seven years had passed by and I can still remember the decision I made, so vividly in my memory. That was the time I made an eternal choice for myself, by joining this peculiar race united strongly to help the only sensible preacher known in our time propagate the truth – to laugh with them, cry with them, endure with them, and lastly, to die with them.

October 31, 2006

***

Back to home page