FROM A PARISHIONER'S EYES

Barely three weeks ago, I received a call from a friend I met through a parish group. She wanted us to meet because she just heard from our common friends that my partner, Tony, had died. We agreed to meet on Feb. 12 after the 6:30 P.M. Mass. She looked so happy to see me and asked me how I was. I said I was doing okay but that I was still grieving. Then, while we were seated on a wooden bench, she casually dropped something on my lap. I was caught by surprise and I tried to return the paper bills. It was by any standard a big amount of abuloy or cash dole out.(Pag-aabuloy is a custom where those who visit a dead person's wake give cash dole outs to the departed's family to alleviate financial woes brought on by the event of death.) But my friend would not take it back. I had been so worried about making our finances last till the next monthly payday and here was the answer to my prayers. But I told her that I did not spend a cent for Tony's burial and cremation. It was Tony's children and ex-wife who spent for everything. The urn with his ashes, though, were with me. But my friend reasoned out that I had been the one who was financially burdened by Tony's sickness and so we let it go at that. A little later, she took me out to dinner at Banapple, a cozy little restaurant along Katipunan Road just outside Proj. 4 where I lived. It seemed as if she wanted to assure herself that all was well with me. Over a meal of chicken, beef and rice, we agreed that I should go for a massage with a therapist she highly recommended. This therapist happened to be a trainor of the vocational center, a joint project of CWL, a parish organization that my friend headed, our parish priest Fr. Arnel Recinto and TESDA. My friend wanted to cheer me up and she succeeded.

This morning she called to remind me about my appointment with the therapist after lunch time. She said that I could invite others to come with me. I brought along one of my sons, who had complained of a runny and stuffy nose in the mornings. The massage therapist, Betty Esguerra, received her accreditation from Technical Education and Skills Development Authority. She was promoting natural methods of healing and combined Shiatsu, Thai massage, Ventoza and Swedish massage when she massaged my son and I. Ampy, another TESDA licensed massage therapist massaged me first while Betty massaged my son as shown in the photos above. Betty later finished off the whole body massage on me. She advised me to check my posture. Years of a bad habit of slouching and of feeling inferior in my youth probably caused my poor posture. It was not fair to feel that way at present when God had showered tremendous graces on me through the years and made it clear to me that I had been bestowed the dignity of being His child just like all His children.

I felt better after the massage. My body felt lighter and I could feel that its circulation was also better. I had not felt that way for many months. Tony had been sick for five months and while we were in that situation, it seemed like forever to me. I had expected Tony's eventual healing but God had other plans for him and me. Now, with friends like this gracious lady who even offered the services at just half their price, I could feel myself relax at the idea of closing the door I had opened with Tony and opening a new one without him.

Years ago, this vocational training center was not producing graduates who were up to the standards set by the government through TESDA. Students would come for class but spend most of their time chatting with friends outside the classrooms. There were many days when the trainors themselves were absent. Still they allowed the students to graduate without any real practical learning. When my friend volunteered her time, talent and treasure to the cause of these students out of compassion for them, she was able to train them herself. Often, she bought materials that they would use in their classes out of her own pocket. In September 2008, the students started to take the exams given by TESDA. There were two who failed to make the grade but she would not allow that. She insisted that instead of a three-day class week, they should come to class Mondays through Saturdays. They did just that until everyone passed National Competency Level 2 or NC2. They were now being trained for NC3. Cerna Velasco and Betty Esguerra were sent by TESDA to help the students achieve high levels of competencies.

At present, the training center was giving parishioners, most of whom belong to the poorer sections of the parish, hope for a better life. Massage therapy, Beauty Care and Dressmaking were the courses it was offering. At the center, the students themselves were sometimes treated to free quick massages, facials, hair care and the like. This, along with their newly acquired skills helped them grow more confident. From my point of view, the center had been doing a great job, ministering to people, inside, by its assistance to the less privileged and its course on therapy, and out, by its courses on beauty and dressmaking. It would be helping more and more people in the years to come.

THE CROSSES WE BEAR

Many Christian religions all over the world use the symbol of the Cross to foster their faith but it is only in Catholicism that the Cross is venerated and embraced. I believe like some of my church friends do that the Cross reminds us of a God who became a fool for love of us and when he said "Come and follow me" he meant that we should bear our crosses as He did, for love. What we should bear, though, is the Cross, and not "crosses" of our own making. The True Cross of Jesus was made holy by His suffering and death on it. The True Cross was different from the crosses of the thieves crucified alongside Jesus. Theirs was of their own making and so the two crosses could not heal the sick and wrought no miracles when they were uncovered together with the True Cross.

In this new millenium, suffering for love seems strange to the younger generations. Theirs is a world where married couples do not remain married "till death do us part", where being rich, powerful and popular are what they are taught to strive for and continue to be the measure of their success. There is nothing wrong in being rich for as long as we have charity and do our best to alleviate the sufferings of the poor. To be in power either through the church, business or government hierarchy should not make one feel as if he holds the world in the palm of his hand. Jesus Himself said to Pilate that he has no authority except that which has been given to him from above. Popularity is not wrong in itself but it should be tempered with humility.

Everything had been given from above and we are merely stewards.

When we experience trials, difficulties, oppression and apathy while being faithful to Jesus, those are crosses meant to purify us and in the end save us. Little crosses are part of that one big Cross on Calvary borne to save us. The saving act of Jesus continues to this day and we celebrate it in all our Masses. When we carry our crosses out of love for Jesus and our neighbors, we unite these sacrifices to that of His.

Yesterday, I went home a bit later than usual because I had to pay some utility bills. As I opened the front door, the smell of something burning engulfed me. I hurried to where the stove was located and saw to my horror that there was a pot on it that was now blackened with soot. I turned off the stove immediately and looked for my children. No one seemed to be home except for my second child, John, who was lying down in bed and who seemed to be sleeping. I woke him up and asked him if he was the one who left the rice burning. He left the rice to boil but he felt drowsy and forgot about the rice. He left the kitchen to lie down on the bed till he fell asleep. I told him that he almost burned the house down by what he did. I also admonished him to never repeat the same mistake again. Next time, if he feels unwell, he should never attempt to cook anything. He may ask his siblings to assist him in cooking.

I keenly felt that our family was blessed by God in that moment. An accident nearly happened but it did not. Had I arrived a little later, our house, that was mostly made of wood, would have been burned to a crisp. A little later, I went to Mass. It was Ash Wednesday. What nearly happened made me feel vulnerable but I knew that I had to cling to God even more. That was a cross and God made no promises that there would be no more. When my partner Tony died on Feb. 6, 2009, his death became a cross, too, that I carry to this day. Jesus promised though that He would be with us always till the end of time. I will hold on to that promise and remember the words of Ash Wednesday as a guide to my own resurrection someday: "Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return." "Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel."

THE OLD RUGGED CROSS

1. On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,  the emblem of suffering and shame;  

and I love that old cross where the dearest and best  for a world of lost sinners was slain. 

Refrain:  So I'll cherish the old rugged cross,  till my trophies at last I lay down;  

I will cling to the old rugged cross,  and exchange it some day for a crown.  

2. O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,  has a wondrous attraction for me;  

for the dear Lamb of God left his glory above  to bear it to dark Calvary.  (Refrain)  

3. In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,  a wondrous beauty I see,  

for 'twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,  to pardon and sanctify me.  (Refrain)  

4. To that old rugged cross I will ever be true,  its shame and reproach gladly bear;  

then he'll call me some day to my home far away,  where his glory forever I'll share.  (Refrain) 

music and lyrics by George Bennard (1873-1958)

image from photobucket by PumpkiinBabii313