Protected: A Beautiful Path

16 May

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Husbands for Sale!

23 Mar

One day, I was very bored an office and suddenly an email surprise me. I’ll share you what it says:


A store that sells husbands has just opened in New York City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description on how the store operates. You may visit the store ONLY ONCE!

There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights. There is, however, a catch…………….you may choose any man from a particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!


So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.

On the first floor the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 – These men have jobs and love the Lord.

The second floor sign reads:

Floor 2 – These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids.

The third floor sign reads:

Floor 3 – These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, and are
extremely good looking.

“Wow,” she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.

She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads:

Floor 4 – These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-
dead good looking and help with the housework.

“Oh, mercy me!” she exclaims, “I can hardly stand it!”
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads:

Floor 5 – These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-
dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic

She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the
sign reads:

Floor 6 – You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor. There are no men on
this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are
impossible to please.

Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!




Find Me, Find Me

23 Mar

Leron leron Sinta

Buko ng Papaya

Dalay-dalay buslo

Sisidlan ng bunga

Perhaps the best place to find reality in the world where true stories and innocence reside is at the corner of the children’s eyes…

It took me a heart to trace the sad facets of Mindanao and a soul to understand why bringing hope and joy could uplift peace yet never did this occurred to me not until the humming advocacy of Kapayapaan Kapatid Council with the convening of Fr. Angel Buenavides moved my silence to become a youth volunteer.

It happened once upon a time in October . I was jazzing to nothingness like babbling what my semester break would be all about when suddenly Kuya Earl Baguio, SSC president rang me on the phone and was inviting me to come over at a coffee house down town for a peace advocacy thing. I never had a clue what shall we be talking about yet I just come not knowing that the very moment I opened my heart to something uncertain started the journey I would love to embrace forever.

Kuya Earl told me about the child-friendly activity and how it will be going about. It sounds really great that I made myself so sure about it but it stunned me to know that it would be held in Malapatan, Maasim and Kiamba. My foot seemed to step back for I barely have one night to prepare for the one week course encampment. Moreover, I don’t have enough money for the expenses so I declined. But the more dazing fact rolled my eardrum as I was told that no centavo shall be spent by the volunteer because there are funds for the expenses.

Presto! There was no reason not to go quite except that I still need to explain to my parents for this abrupt affair I shall be engaging. Good thing that everything seemed to conspire for me to be able to join the CFA at the three municipalities of Sarangani Province. I never heard any fuss from Ma and Pa except those little worries and reminders like parents would usually do.

To me, it was just at first a dose of excitement as to the bonding with the whole team and adventuring all through out the trip. I was enjoying only the surface of what I thought is the whole thing of going there. At some point, it really was. The husky winds brushed our faces as we scream to joy driving at a speed of one hundred twenty kilometer per hour by a six wheeler truck. We traced the bumpy roads of General Santos City to the straights of Alabel then enjoyed the bends and curbs tracing the roads of Maasim and Kiamba on the following days.

Winds, Screams, Trips -I thought it was just all about those. I thought it was just going there and teaching the children, making funny-face, playing and chasing. I thought it was just about a responsibility I need to finish. So I thought it was just as easy as reciting ABCD with them.

But I wasn’t like that. It was a thousand fold different as I thought. It wasn’t about showing them how good you are; it’s about inviting them to express their selves. It wasn’t about sharing your story; it was about listening to their dreams. Yes it was not about me that moment it was about them…

My heart began to comprehend these things as I feel so different. I could not understand how it feels the very first time I stood at the front of those children. I haven’t read the module yet I just remembered what Sir Danny Sabino, the KKC adviser, instructed us before we left: just make the children happy.

Thus, I didn’t wasted any single minute when I was joshing with them, together with Kuya Earl and other volunteers who were assigned in every classroom, we gave all the best that they can do to draw smiles on the faces of the children and mark happiness at Tuyan elementary school.

We left the place with the children waving goodbye to us and the echoes of those beaming voices kept resounding on my heart.

Were down to the first pit stop of the whole course and my body now is contemplating to muscle pain and my throat is slightly itching. It’s really hard, yet the shower of bliss is so much rewarding.

The two more sets of different children, different stories and different dreams made my heart to grasp for more. I was in search now not of enjoying alone, not of bonding anymore but far and more sound than that, I was now in pursuit of helping those children that are waiting  for me in Kiamba and Maasim, find the peace they long to hope and taste the joy they have long forgotten.

So along with the midst of finding my self with these children who were victims of arm conflict; of stained desires; of selfish means, I also find my slumbering consciousness being waken up by these realities which were slapped on me. My eyes now were slowly tracing the larger and wider horizon where the sad facets invite my heart to soulfully touch them. I find myself in a halt sometimes, still cannot believe that on the other side of the world I live in, there exist broken hearts that have been thirsting for love, there exist shattered dreams who have been gasping for hope.

I don’t know what did I armed the day I stood like a teacher and wondered like a kid yet one thing I’m sure is that God was gazing and smiling at me as I sat and listen with His children who have been hungering for attention .

Indeed that the heavy desire of touching their lives pricks my heart like a razor-sharp needle but there were those seconds I am left ashamed about myself struggling to fight against the stinky odor of the children. They have not been taking a bath for a week and others just don’t change clothes anymore but I have to smile anyway. I also was resisting against their filthy arms and hands when we we’re playing. The dirt traced the lines of their palm and their nails tipped black dirt, but I have to hold them anyway. And when we sit shoulder by shoulder to listen and share each other’s stories, Fears and dreams, I struggle against the horrible breath that fills the air but I have to josh and listen anyway. Really, it was tough but never did a streak of such anxiety and annoyance stroke my face when clutched at those instances for their glaring happiness fades the undesirable fits inside me. Perhaps, I unconsciously wanted to sigh but I chose to smile for them and every second I lift a happy face towards them became a breath of prayer.

The day’s activity with the children ended with blowing of bubbles of their dreams in the field. Truly, it was like paradise. I saw the children’s indescribable joy and as I gaze at their eyes I found hope I never saw the first time  I entered their classroom, to my gladness, we made a tight group embrace as we made a pact to get good in their studies and the resounding ‘opo, ate Cheng’ keeps ringing on my memory.

The sun is about to set in its serenity and just as its glorious late afternoon sunbeam promises morning, we left the school with a hope that one day they will attain peace again and the memories of arm struggle shall fade through the joy we marked that day. The pupils kept this promise inside their hearts and they locked their eyes on me as they sharply screamed bye-bye, following our truck where I am at as it slowly drove down the gate. I kept an eye with them until my vision could not catch them anymore; until their voices slowly faded by the distance. I felt that moment how thankful they are. But what they don’t know is that they thought me more, they touched me more, and they transformed me more.

I walked back on my childhood days as they shared their funny stories. I woke up to the sharp splinters of what’s happening in the world as they unveiled their traumatic fears. I grasp an inner hope as they shared their sincere dreams. Some wanted to be a teacher, some wanted to be a nurse, some wanted to have just clothes, some wanted to be a soldier, some just wanted to have enough food to eat everyday, and some just wanted to have peace.

I am back now to my world and as I glean towards the horizon I am trudging along, I carry with me the stories of children in Malapatan, Maasim and Kiamba, which were never heard for so long. I sleep now with a breath of prayer for them, tracing their faces, remembering their names. I wake up now with a hope that they may continue to go to school. Yes, they may be so far now but their voices are drenched inside my heart- uproaring and echoing.

And certainly, no matter  shall God puts me ,those faces of  innocence will be in my heart for they are part of me now, of my dream; of my hope; of my story as one day I will find them again.

Pagdating sa dulo

Nabali ang sanga

Kapos kapalaran

Humanap ng iba.

Note; This is dedicated to the pupils of Tuyan, Pananag and Tambilil Elementary school.

Dear Pain

22 Jan


Dear pain,

Who created you?

Where do you reside?

When will you leave?
I know you can tear me down, but only for a moment.
You may deceive me but I can control you..
I will embrace you but know that I can let you go..
I wont escape from you but I will deal with you.
This is what my father taught me ,he was strong ..

So this I tell you…Dear Pain,
Please, pack your bags cos..
You will leave earlier than you thought:)

Best Regards,



*My Father died in liver cirrhosis (well the picture tells:) last year Novermber 19,2011. I salute my father for living the good life despite hardships.I miss him.

But I would be calm for truly I can attest God’s magnificent power of healing

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

John 14:27

Eating, Living and the Art of Both

5 Jan

Living life is like sitting in a dining table. You are served with a plate,whether it’s crystal made or a flat thin one, you are ones who choose what to and how to eat. Like whether you sit in a table everyday as luxurious  or penniless ,you decide how to eat what responsibility is on your plate. Life isn’t a chain of unseen events where you wake up one day and suddenly there’s a garlic atop your frost cake, and another second a sticky mustard layered in it and finally it’s messed with a cold soup and chunks of beef.You flare up and began believing that “you’re not in control of your life.”It wasn’t.

Life gives spices.There are days where you are indulging with your almond ice cream in a sugar cone and suddenly life hands you a salty dried fish and you need to put down that cone as life requires you to face with some salty dried fish called trials. Just because you ate an ice cream you thought dried fish as the worst food ever but if you didn’t, you just can’t stop dipping it in with chili and vinegar because you’re learning to like its kick.

Here then is one secret of eating and living: the art of neutralizing. When you get back to your ice cream after your fish, it gives you another treat of chocolate blast. And oh! it was just the same chocolate you ate yesteryear, last week or a minute ago.Yes!It was the same person you loved, the same place you lived, the same food you ate, and yet you savored them just a little bit more lovelier, livelier and tastier.

What’s eating and living makes like a first time  then?
It’s appetite.#

a little lighter thing for NEW YEAR apart from my upward covenant:)

3 Jan

1. good hair cut
2.start cardio exercise(AHEM! PROPER WAY OF EXERCISE,got an old book for this,nangangarap pang maging sexy)
3.finish novels and finance books
4.learn cooking (gosh! this has been five years on the new year’s list)
5.start a new journal
6.put on a new own painting job on my routines (to get back to speed writing)
8.teach ameera and kids painting
9. pay all debts! haha!
10.introduce a new boyfriend! LOL:D

T O D A Y and H A P P I N E S S (hey days gonna come)

30 May

today i went downtown, i was having my move about that job. i do not know what will be of me,of what will be there for me.I am very uncomfortable about something uncertain at the moment. but then again something inside me speaks louder than doubt – the trust that there’s that perfect workplace for me.

Perhaps i just need to go a long time of adventure towards finding it, maybe next year, maybe next month, maybe tomorrow.



nobody can  ever measure the extent of learning and insight that we can get towards finding the right job for us, see the search as a grace for we still see and reflect on the world outside.See it as a grace for in nothingness we grasp for inner and deeper strength to God.See it as a grace for we could still pick up lessons on the ground, real value of peso, time, people.


Today  will be one of the most unforgettable days of our life over those 10,30 or 50 years of uniform cycle in work.Today is just what today should be, embrace it,for  its a part of our one big sweet, funny, life-changing story.


lets have faith batch mates.

Jeremiah 29

Her Kite

22 Jan

She closed her eyes and the pristine scenario of them embedded the solitude of her heart. He was there, smiling, looking at her eyes.


It was the last scent of sweet February. The moonlight sky was dazzling from the iridescent fireworks of the city’s 40TH charter anniversary. Every people, every place, and every trance paints different facets of joy. Earsplitting, yet the blast of firecrackers could not dominate the strident beating of her heart which was at the moment bursting; breaking up with the person it ever occupied; it ever embraced; it ever loved.

They had a four-year relationship. She was his life. He was her life. They shared so many things; experiences; burdens and almost everything they had while they were growing up from high school to college. Both of their families knew of their wholesome relationship, thus they go together at church; go out on a group date with siblings; play bowling ; stroll around thru motor bikes; go out for pizza;  and most often just spend an ordinary dinner with the whole family.

They share daily routines as they were always beside ach other. He used to fetch her at her house every morning and travel for school at a sixty to seventy kilometer per hour by his Suzuki raider motor bike. At noon break, they wait for each other to have lunch. Later in the afternoon, they drive home together as they would wait for each other after the class. They trace the road of Fatima to down town home yet during Friday, they dodge at their favorite McDonalds to have a zip of ice cream float and go to church together on Wednesdays. Sometimes when one gets stress, they unwind thru racing cars on Arcade at World’s of fun or poke the key boards at need for speed. She beats her on race always but wonders if she really was good or he just gives way.

He was there all along. He was there during her brother’s 16th birthday, at her best friend’s 18th birthday, at her brotherly friend’s wedding proposal, at her sister’s 22nd birthday, at her mother’s 49th birthday, at her father’s 52nd birthday, at her parent’s silver anniversary, at her nephew’s baptism whom he became a god father and was still there when it had its first birthday.

She never left him. She was always beside her every time he gets problem at home. She would always write him almost everyday just as they have always been doing for each other since they were in high school. She tells how much she loves him and how much she’s willing to endure anything as long as they are together. She helps her on her assignments and requirements at school but he does not want to be helped which later would eventually start their fight.

He is patient. She’s not. He loves dancing. She horribly hates it. He’s into popular beats. She’s into classic mellow. He plays many sports. She’s lame about it. He’s a happy-go-lucky. She’s a serious sensible lass.

She is optimistic. He’s not. She’s emotional. He’s rational. She loves sketching and painting. He terribly doesn’t know how.  She writes stories. He just scans the pages.  She loves to meet new people and travel around. He would rather go to sleep and creep on dream land. She’s skeptical. He’s a yes-man.

Certainly, they were two opposite persons who never get a day without fighting on some sweet little things.  They may hate each other’s interest but they knew they would never change a thing about it for that were the threads that makes the person they chose to love. She loves him. He loves her, and so much as it was, they were just two different people who are seriously and irrevocably in love with each other.
But what was her problem?

Why did she break up with him?

Why did he let go?

Were the four-years they’ve had together was just so easy to forget?

What was once a sweet fairy-tale turned into a serious confrontation of her self when something happened one day. Her mom was diagnosed with a stage- 2 breast cancer. Everything went into a halt as she began to absorb what was happening to her family. The December carols seemed to be sad melodies in her heart and along with the days seeing her mother at the hospital for mastectomy operations became nights of soulful reflection.

She began to browse the pages of her life, – of what’s in it; of who’s in it. She could not believe what she has just found out. She’ 18 and he’s 20. It made her cry realizing that they have been spending four years taking care of each other in the fear that they may lose each other one day. They have been living inside each other’s eyes and as close as they were, they forgot to look on what was waiting outside the world they only knew. They have loved each other but they were missing so many wonderful things in life. They love each other so much but they were not growing anymore as a person.

She did not like the hurtful thought that was embracing her at that moment, because that means a call for space between them. Yet she couldn’t escape from it.

So one night while the sky was glaring in Christmas fireworks and her family was bathing in hopeful joy as her mom had just brought out from the hospital, she walked upstairs. She sat at one corner in their veranda and began to thank God about her mom and of the many realizations it splashed on them. At the depth of the circumstance, she threw her soul into the vastness of the night sky, as she was gazing at the stars and at the height of feeling God’s magnificence, she asked for three things – forgiveness about the four years she remained blind of His graces, acceptance of what he and she shall lose and endurance to pursue on what is right when it gets so hard along the way.

These had been her prayer for two sweet months they spent together which he didn’t ever know was the last.  Yes, he was left with no idea that one day they will part ways  but she was preparing their hearts to stand with the hardest decision she had ever  made in her whole life – to let go of the most wonderful kite who help her soar the beauty of love, patience, trust and sacrifice. He was the kite who helped her fly through the winds that blows her way. He was the kite who brought her back to her childhood days. He was the kite she needed to let go.

Armed with great strength through God’s grace, the day had finally come. It was so hard for her to do it. They met at a restaurant in the heart of the city and she’s the first one who got there. The moment she saw him looking for her, started the loud beating of her heart. All he knew was that they would rock the festival night; ride ferries wheel which had been their most unforgettable argument back when they were in high school; or maybe enjoy his favorite car show.  Indeed, she doesn’t know where to start until she invited him to drive around for a while; he was really okay like happily telling things she could not relate on. Later, he noticed her silence and then she invited him to attend an anticipated mass.

She was crying at the midst of the service and he knew right then that there is a problem. Mysterious as it was, he knew with those tears what was in her heart .With that, he grasped her hand so tight, knowing it shall be the last.

They remained on their seats when everyone left the church and in those minutes her tears were just rolling from her eyes. Then he began to stand and held her hand as they gently walk outside through the aisle like they were groom and bride. It broke her heart more; she stopped and locked at herself into his eyes and said:

“I would always be hoping that you will be the man whom I will meet at the altar one day”

Eventually, there were crystals of tears at the corner of their eyes and no words at that moment could ever describe how painful it was inside. They remained silent.  He cannot believe what was happening. She was battling towards her feeling. But she must now mark a breath of finality, so, she turned her head and said:

“See that man on the cross? I am giving you back to Him.”

With a wonderful release, tears finally cascaded from her eyes, as he embraced him for the very last time.


She closed her eyes and the pristine scenario of them embedded the solitude of her heart. He was there, smiling, looking at her eyes. She opened it but he’s not around. He’s gone. He’s out of sight.

It’s been months now but the love they’ve had redeems her over and over again yet she has to continue her battle.

The pain had never let her go. It lives with her; it sleeps with her; it follows her. It breathes with her everyday, and no matter how she wish to just wake up one day without any saddle to carry on, it would not ever happen that way, above all when deep inside her, something says ‘I want him back’. Its’ hard, but it’s harder for her to ever try to control it, harder to ever try to understand it. And there’s really no other way now for her than to accept that she’s lost but not forever, she is broken but not eternally. Now, to accept it is to understand that she shall stand with that pain, that she shall continue even broken and bruised; that while she try to walk with that heavy saddle behind her, she will become stronger than she could ever try to imagine.

She will and she will learn more. I know, because I was her, and he was once my kite.

I might see him one day when I look above the sky; soaring higher than the days I was the one holding the tie, but somehow, I’ll be happy knowing that he finally had grown up and landed on the hands that he was destined to.

I miss him and I still love him, but God’s love showed me the vastness of life more than what I could ever saw through a kite.  #