midlifetreasures

It was the day after my 50^th when I realized what was missing in my life – I still love to write!  It came like a breeze while Facetime-ing with my youngest brother, Noel, that lead to that realization when he simply said “if there’s something you really love to do – do it now”.   I think I’ve found a home for that writing – please join me in testing the water!

It was a fine winter day and everyone’s excited for a road trip with a mission. After months of searching for a perfect fit, we’re about to meet the newest member of our family. 

My heart was pounding as we reached our destination, excited to see and hold my new ‘baby’ for the first time.  I knew there were two of these adorable pups – a girl and a boy. Though I haven’t seen them, I was sure I wanted the girl and came ready with a cute girl’s name so I can call her that at first sight.

But the unexpected happened and I immediately felt something wasn’t right. While the girl kept running away from me, the boy never left my side – literally leaning on my right foot the whole time. For a moment I can’t make up my mind, but while carefully looking at them as they face me side by side, he stared back at me intensely, as if saying “please pick me”. With those begging eyes, who wouldn’t! So I did, and it was a winning choice. Suddenly my world turned black and white and it has never been as colorful!

In life we don’t always get what we thought we like, but surprisingly end up with something even better. It happens for a hundred and one reasons. In my case, I guess my furry baby and I were just meant to be coz he made me choose him. Aiko, my boy with a girl’s name, celebrates his first birthday today.

In my earlier blog I talked about Sky and Pochi, my first furry friends who inspired me to have my very own Aiko, ‘to have and to hold till death do us part’!  Now I have a happier home filled with love, kisses, wagging tails and wet noses!  And I have a bigger heart ready to  accommodate a bigger, merrier ‘pack’.

Woof, woof!

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I get affected when my adult kids go through important events in their lives. Be it change in career path, studies, and mostly, relationships. When my son told me he is in a new relationship, I was overjoyed for him and his lovely lady. She’s bubbly, helpful, smart, and a certified dog lover. I could imagine her visiting our home with her ‘babies’ on leash.

Uh oh, that smells trouble! Coz I have the ultimate fear of dogs. I was so scared that I would cross to the other side of the road just to avoid people walking their dogs. I would turn down friends’ invitations if I knew they have dogs. And I’d never allow dogs inside my house. But you could guess – that last one was overruled!

And so we had a silent house rule. When the dogs are around, I’d lock myself in our bedroom. If I need to come out, they would lock the dogs. That actually worked well. Until one morning, I woke up very thirsty and went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. When I closed the fridge door, I almost dropped my glass when I saw this white fluffy creature in front of me. And so I screamed, “take this dog away from me”! But no one heard me. I stood still while staring at him on what seemed to be the longest minute of my life. He was staring at me too – firm but confused. As I kept calling for help, he slowly moved back away from me, but still staring! Until finally, someone rescued me and picked him up.

I’ll never ever forget that day. I felt so sorry for the way I treated him, for thinking he was trouble. For seeing every single dog like an enemy, no matter how gentle or fierce they look. I felt bad for being unfair and cold to these warm creatures aptly called ‘man’s best friend’.  I’ve never called any dog by its name.

But at that moment, I knew I had a change of heart. I felt like my heart expanded and suddenly had the capacity to love dogs, I never knew I had.

Some of the best relationships are formed when you least expect them. That same day, I gained two faithful, huggable friends. They were the first dogs I’ve ever touched. And definitely the ones I first loved. A relationship I didn’t expect ever happening in my lifetime. Changes I didn’t see coming – like sneaking through the pets’ treat section in the supermarket. And looking forward to weekends when they would arrive wagging their tails and jumping on me, and cuddling in my own bed.

Thank you, Sky and Pochi. Because of you two, I’ll never look at dogs the same way again. You’ve changed my heart. You’ve changed me.
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Did you know that New Zealand has its native Christmas tree?

The pohutukawa tree (Metrosideros excelsa) produces bright crimson red flowers around December, thus the nickname New Zealand Christmas tree.

Translated from Maori, pohutukawa means “sprinkled by spray”, which may be the reason they are found planted along shorelines and areas away from frosts.

The flowering pohutukawa may be one of the most loved native trees that has been featured on greeting cards and summer destination brochures – definitely a common sight around Christmas time in the North Island.

You can’t miss this flowering tree providing welcome shade in the summer months whether you’re near the beach, on a picnic, or if you simply want to relax while reading a book under its shade.

Lucky me, I don’t have to go far coz I have my very own pohutukawa in my backyard.

I like it so much that it has also inspired my bedroom this Christmas season.

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I’ve been in the workforce for over 30 years, and have encountered the good sorts, and those types of colleague you wouldn’t wish for. They may be the all-knowing intellectual, the radical sceptic, the loud fashionista, the constant whiner … the list goes on. Keeping your sanity around them in this crazy working world can be a mission.

And so I thought I’ve seen them all, but recently I encountered a new ‘species’ that made it to my negative list: the tech-savvy young professional with a hint smell of arrogance. He was an attendee to the exit meeting of my recent audit work. As customary in my team, we give out hand-written notes which summarises our audit results. We prefer it this way, as opposed to reading it from a laptop, to make the discussion more engaging, more personal, more authentic.

After my presentation, I asked this young lad, “would you like to keep a copy”? And he said, “I’m fine, I couldn’t read a thing in your notes anyway … this is so old school”. There was a moment of silence in the room. I was quick to think of a positive reply saying “I’d been mostly complimented for my good penmanship, but I guess it isn’t my lucky day”. I kept my composure, but I felt embarrassed. In my book, that was rudeness at its finest.

I gave that colleague the benefit of the doubt, that he didn’t mean to insult, but acted just on pure ignorance. Besides, the issue isn’t about the substance of my report, but rather behavioural. But during the long drive back to Wellington, it kept me thinking, is there something wrong with being tagged as ‘old school’? It made me reminisce our days back then.

Our days, when Mr. Google wasn’t around, and we spent long hours in the library researching on things unknown;

Our days, when conferences and meetings meant we need to physically meet and greet people;

Our days, when calculators were not allowed in Math classes, and fountain pens were mandatory for board exams;

Our days when corporate greeting cards were not mass printed, and contained personal and hand-written messages;

Our days when emailing and texting weren’t in the horizon, and we find time to have genuine conversations with colleagues and friends.

I consider myself lucky to have seen in my lifetime the paradigm shift from the Baby Boomers to the Millennial generation, we now call Gen-Y.  I understand the impact of this change in our society, much so in our families, as my two adult children belong there. The innovative mindset of the new generation has brought about positive, and at times, drastic changes to the way we do things, especially on how technology has influenced the way we communicate today. However, there are certain traditional ways that are worth keeping around, and learning from. That includes respect for more seasoned co-workers before one speaks his mind. It shouldn’t be taken for granted, no matter which generation you belong.

Sure, we need young professionals with bright new ideas, who may be champions in the use of modern technology which helps increase work efficiency. But I wonder, can they survive a day without opening their emails, or working on their laptops, or being engrossed with social media during downtime at work?

So yes, please call me ‘old school’, I really don’t mind. I am proud to belong to the generation that has survived the challenges of its time, which laid the very foundation of this technology-dependent era we now live in.

Has the art of writing become extinct? Will modern technology ever replace written word? Will I get to see the ‘computer world’ crash because man has become overly dependent on technology? I don’t know, but one thing I’m quite sure of – my life will go on ‘coz I know how to write … literally.

By the way, my penmanship isn’t really good, it’s actually very good!

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It was the 2nd day of March, early days of Fall 2015.  A new season bringing new hope for a pain-free life. That day, I had a special date with my neurosurgeon.  We had to put an end to our three-year ‘off-and-on-relationship’ through a cervical spine surgery!

At my age, I am blessed to be relatively healthy.  Apart from two time C-sections when I gave birth to my daughter and son over 20 years ago, I’d never been admitted in a hospital.  That explains that day’s jitters and nerves!

We went off to Wellington Hospital early that morning and stayed at the surgical admissions area for over five hours of pre-surgery interviews, briefing with doctors and constant checking of my vital signs.  Seemed like forever waiting for my name to be called to check-in, I was getting anxious!  I needed to take my mind off the tension, so I put on my earphones and listened to a song that never failed to soothe me.  If some people have a comfort food, I have a comfort song.

“You are my hiding place, You always fill my heart with songs of deliverance,
Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You”. Psalm 56:3

I played this song over and over again … then finally, I heard, “Yolanda MacAle (funny the way they pronounce it here), it’s time” the nurse called out.  “This is it”, I told myself!  I was brought to the changing room, wheeled into the operating theater, and met the surgical team – a bunch of lovely people who knows how to appease a nervous-looking patient!  Everyone greeted me with a big smile – the surgeons, the anesthesiologist, the scrub nurses.  We had a quick chat and I told them, “I prayed for this surgery, and prayed for you all, so treat me well”!  We all had a good laugh.  It was comforting to know that I had a great surgical team and one of them is a Filipino nurse.  I remember him saying, “Ate, think of a happy place” while inhaling air from the tube that put me to sleep.

The next thing I know, someone’s waking me up at the recovery room.  It was good to be surrounded by the people you love most when you are in deep pain and at your weakest.  Thank you, Lord, for the presence of Dave, my children Regine and Renz, and for my mother, siblings, relatives and friends (though near or far) who offered prayers for the success of my surgery and helped me brave one of the scariest moments of my life.

At the hospital, days seemed to pass quickly, but recovery at home – that’s another story!  This is where the real ‘pain’ begins.  This is when you feel your vulnerability, your dependence on people, your struggle against loneliness.  The longer you stay at home, the more helpless you feel.  At some stage, I felt I was falling into a depression pit.  I know I was affecting the people around me – people who have sacrificed time and energy to help me.  But with so many hours that I am alone each day, I know I was bordering on self pity.

I prayed hard for strength, in body and spirit.  I need to find that little warrior in me to fight back.  I can’t entertain this ‘poor me’ attitude!  So I asked myself, “Do you have a plan to bounce back, or will you give in to this emotional trap”? … Prayer never fails.  With perseverance, I started feeling better.  I found renewed strength, a new inspiration to write and share my journey.

And so I did my homework. I came up with a recovery plan – a list of things a sick person can do to remain positive and recover faster.  For you, who may be too weak to do them by yourself, ask a little help from family and friends, and I know you can nail this!

♥  Receive and appreciate well wishes, caring thoughts, and prayers of family and friends supporting you.  There’s nothing wrong with telling people you are sick – they can’t help you recover if you don’t let them know.  So don’t isolate – open yourself and allow them to nurture you with love and attention.  It’s amazing how a simple message or thoughtful gesture from a relative or friend can make you focus less on the pain you are going through.

♥  Think of happy thoughts – that’s what my bubbliest friend always tell me.  Be surrounded by happy people, laugh out loud!  No sad stories, no sad face!  The feelings we experience are sometimes caused by chemical reactions taking place inside our bodies.  So uplift your spirit and release those happy hormones.  Talk to your high school classmates, or reconnect with long-lost friends.  Dig out those ‘throw-back’ photos, listen to hit-back tunes, and reminisce happy memories of your younger years.

♥  Drink plenty of water and eat well.  Forget about the ‘food guilt’, indulge in your favorite fruit or chocolate drink!  You have all the time to exercise and shed off unwanted fats when you get well.  I am very privileged to have an in-house chef who makes sure I eat appetizing and healthy food everyday.  How good is it to wake up in the morning with a beautiful dish on your bedside? Thank you to my personal chef, you are the best!

♥  I’ve read that ‘sleep is one of life’s understated pleasures’.  Enjoy the luxury of rest and unlimited sleep. At 8:03 every morning, I see Bus#55 pass by my house.  On a normal working day, I should have been running on my heels catching this bus – but not today!  No stress getting late to work, no worries about deadlines.  When you are recovering, your main work is to rest, sleep and take medications, that’s all you have to do.

♥  Keep yourself and your surroundings clean and tidy.  Nothing beats the feeling of a warm morning shower, then jumping back to bed with fresh pajamas!  Pamper yourself with that delightful bath soap and body cream you’d been keeping in your drawer meant for special days.  You may be sick, but that’s no reason for you not to look, smell, and feel great!  Put on a soothing music while refreshing your beddings, and you’ll set the mood for yet another day … more like relaxing than recovering.

♥  Have tangible reminders around you that people are thinking of you.  Whether it’s a bunch of hand-picked flowers from a friend’s garden, a bouquet of fresh flowers from colleagues, or those sent by a sister all the way from Canada, it helps to know others thought of ways to make you feel better.  Near my bedside, I have a ‘get-well wall’ where I’ve pinned hand-written notes, flower cards and photos – they cheer me up each time I am alone and feeling low.

♥  Don’t be embarrassed to accept a helping hand.  I was humbled when a friend said she will take a day off at work so she could watch over me.  Another one said she can help clean up my house.  It’s easy to say “no, i will be fine”, but remember, whoever is taking care of you needs a breather, too.  Give him/her this well-deserved break while someone else is willing to spend some time with you.

♥  Lastly, enrich your spirit, pray everyday for courage.  I draw strength thinking of those who are in worse health conditions, especially those in terminal care.  Then I started to count every small blessing.  I thank God for the sunshine that goes through my window pane.  I thank God that I am able to shampoo by myself today, which I can’t do yesterday.  I am grateful that He lead me to this country that provides sufficient medical care, so I can focus on getting well and not on paying my hospital bills.  I thank Him for this opportunity that allowed me to be fed, bathed and nurtured by this caring family I have.

More often in the past, I have visited a sick relative or friend – this time I am at the other side of the fence.  I now realize the true meaning of ‘visiting the sick’ and the joy it brings when you are at the receiving end.

If you are on the ‘better’ side of the fence, I have a message for you, too.  Be generous with your time.  If you know someone sick, go and visit, or pick up that phone for a quick chat.  If you promise to come, do come!  A promise of a visit creates anticipation and should not lead to frustration.  It’s amazing how a short visit can be therapeutic and provide a welcome distraction to whatever kind of pain a sick person is going through – whether physical or emotional.

And remember, a person recovering from sickness still needs support during transition time.  It’s when people caring for them are back to their normal lives and they are left recovering on their own.  That time when attention on them is lessened and people think, “Oh well, she maybe better this time”.  As I am writing this, I self-confess, ‘guilty as charged!’  I have allowed my busy schedule to prevent me from being with a sick friend who needs my time most.  A gesture of kindness is never too late nor too small.  Be a blessing to others – you’ll never know when it is your time to be blessed!

Thank you to everyone who supported me in this journey.  This season of Lent, let me leave you with a message to reflect on, and may we all celebrate the true meaning of Easter!

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An ode for my one and only daughter, with all the love my heart can hold!

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Arrival in Wellington, 29 Dec 2013

Most migrants can relate with that melancholic longing to be with families back home.  For someone who hasn’t been back to the Philippines in seven years, this is especially true.  The last time we were all together was in a family reunion in Singapore in April 2010.  An emotional recharge was long overdue, and so celebrating the new year with Nanay and Fr. Ronald was indeed a double treat!

It was Nanay’s second visit to NZ, her first taste of Kiwi life was in summer of 2009. Just as I wrote a tribute for my mother on her first visit, I’m too inspired to do the same to my brother whom I dearly missed.

Fr. Ronald left home for the minor seminary when he was barely 12 years old, just out of grade school.  For a while, he was the youngest and the only boy among four siblings – the most awaited son – so to speak!  He was the darling of the family until my mother unexpectedly became pregnant with Noel when he was about 10 years old. It was almost a miracle because my mother was then in remission from the ‘Big C’ while my father was already aged 67.  But that’s another interesting story to tell.

It was one of those memorable days when he broke the news to my parents that he wanted to enter the seminary, no one expected such a family twist!  I was 18 then and didn’t understand why and how he ‘listened to his divine calling’, but I was a witness to my parents’ struggle consenting their once único hijo to leave home at a very tender age.  It wasn’t only hard for my parents – it was hard for him convincing them, too.  He confined himself in prayer for several hours every night, until my parents granted his wish to pursue a vocation for priesthood.

While most families go on outings and watch movies, our Sunday afternoons were reserved for visits to the seminary.  At hindsight, I’ve realized the hardship and patience of my parents for 13 long years. We were a family of modest means, it was humbling and at times uncomfortable, ensuring that we spend some time with him, share a meal, and bring his weekly laundry.  Logistics was a real nightmare.  We had to take the bus and use the pass-over in Guadalupe, looking like gypsies with baskets of food, fresh laundry (especially the long sutanas in hangers), mats and chairs, what have you!  It wasn’t an easy journey, it was a vocation embraced by everyone to show our support and help him prevail over the challenges of seminary life.  With God’s grace, Fr. Ronald was ordained as priest on 3 December 1992 at the age of 25.

Fr. Ronald’s Ordination Day

When I said I missed him, I meant more.  I missed the chance to see him grow from a boy to a teenager, I missed the chance to take care of him when he was sick, I missed the chance to help him with his homework, I missed countless things an ‘Ate’ could have done to a younger brother.  But I realized, those were nothing compared to what he intentionally missed.

Trekking at Mt. Kaukau near Newlands

This insight came when he got sick on the first week of their holiday after a few hours’ trekking.  I haven’t seen him sick in ages so I was nervous.  He told my mom, “just stay here beside me”, and he asked me to massage his shaky legs.  While keeping his feet warm, I cried silently ‘coz I had a vision of him getting sick and growing old alone.  It’s hard to contemplate on the perils of priests’ celibate lives, particularly when sickness and loneliness touch them.  I have bothering questions in my mind, like “who will help him ease his physical pain?”…“who will visit him on his birthday and special occasions?”…“whom will he call for comfort in times of despair?”  While four of us siblings have children who will look after us (hopefully) when we grow old, whom has he got?  I wonder how his life would be when we’ve all gone before him.

But like a faithful servant, he doesn’t seem bothered by the things that worry me as his sister.  So should I really worry for him? I must seek God’s grace and forgiveness for wavering in my faith.  For it is written, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God”  Philippians 4:6.  So in God I rest my case.

a wacky shot after our house blessing

Come to think of it, my brother and I haven’t really spent a full month under one roof since he was 12.  These 30 days gave me a different perspective of a sibling I didn’t get to grow up with.  He surprised me with his cool antics I never knew he had!  While not wearing his alb, he is a funny brother, a caring son, a cool uncle, and a cheerful friend.  He is uncomplicated, happy and content in his simple life.  I was wrong to think he missed a lot in our secular world, ‘coz maybe he has not missed anything at all.  He chose a self-denying life dedicated to his vocation and the people of God he serves.  That defines his happiness and fulfillment!

I couldn’t be more blessed than having him as my brother – I always pray for him and his ministry.  And I invoke everyone to pray for your priest, pastor or minister.  I feel a pinch in my heart to hear of erring priests who have gone astray.  Let’s not judge them for not being perfect, they made bad choices, ‘coz they are one with us who share our human weaknesses!  Let’s pray for them, too.  But most of all, let’s pray for those who remain faithful to their exalted vocation, let’s pray for them in their needs.

“Lord Jesus, we pray to You for our priests.  We ask that You give them the gift You gave Your chosen ones on the way to Emmaus:

Your presence in their hearts, Your holiness in their souls, Your joy in their spirits.

And let them see You face to face in the breaking of the Eucharistic bread.  Amen.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Bye for now, Nanay and Fr. Ronald.  Thank you for 30 unforgettable days!  In the midst of our busy lives, thank you for bringing Dave, Regine, Lorenz and I together for a family adventure we hardly had.

Thank you for the fun and laughter, and the smell of Nanay’s cooked dinner when we get home!

But most importantly, thank you for the chance to be once more a daughter, and a sister.

For at the end of the day, it’s all about family!

We will miss you … let’s continue our lives’ journey and pray for that day when we can be together again.

I’m a mom of two adult kids, and perhaps at that stage in life when simple things can get too complicated, depending on hormone surges and mood swings. I sometimes wish I have the attributes of children – pure, worry free and always cheerful! I love to be around them.

a bundle of joy!

So I got too excited when I was visited by my “little friends”, Darryl, Thea and Lien, my special guests on Christmas Day! And why not? It’s not always that kids run around my house, play touch-n-go in my lawn, and toss pebble stones in my backyard!

It was perfect timing, with only Dave and myself at home. Regine was with her boyfriend, while Renz was out with friends. Having kids around on that quiet Christmas afternoon made my day complete!  As I watched their car leave my house that evening, I was both puzzled and amazed by how these kids have touched me in a very special way. What’s in them that give joy to my heart?

I thought about it and here’s what I came up with: 10 reason I love the Torino kids!

1. They come rushing to me with that big hug each time we meet.

2. It’s fun watching their simplest joys and hearing their giggles and laughter.

3. Their perfect day is playing in the park with their mom and dad, and telling me all about it.

4. They appreciate the small things I do, like help pour a glass of water or open that box of lollies, with a big smile.

5. I laugh out loud when they say something surprising like Lien’s “Where do you live Tita Yonggi?” (while inside my house), and Thea suddenly calling me “Ate Yonggi”!

6. They treat me like a grown up friend, who can run with them and hear their funny stories.

7. They listen and obey when their parents say “no”.

8. I loved seeing their big eyes and happy faces when they opened my Christmas presents.

9. They help me forget about the worries, and for a moment just be carefree and perhaps silly.

10. They help me picture how child-like faith in God should be.

I will welcome a visit from my little friends anytime of the year and for no reason at all. Just to have fun and be reminded to always be childlike in spirit. I’d like to commend hands-on parents like Jaymee and Neil, for raising awesome kids capable of inspiring friends, and older friends!

Nothing beats the sparkle in the eyes of a happy child! It is contagious … and it all starts from home!

5 yr-old Reg and Renz@3

“You look so happy, maybe you don’t have problems” …  I take this as the best compliment from friends! But it would have been a different story had they met me 20 years ago when people saw me differently.  Though I know myself better, for most, I was the problematic solo parent to two very young children.  I was judged to be indifferent, unfriendly, self-centered … and so I had very few friends who genuinely cared for me.  It was only my family who truly knew me, and that was enough.  I didn’t care what other people say ‘coz their opinion can’t feed my kids, send them to good schools and give them a decent upbringing.  That was my focus; that was my life!

It was a long struggle but giving up wasn’t among my options.  I fought every battle one day at a time. Though I didn’t win them all, I stood up courageously each time I fell.

I didn’t pray to make my problems go away, but I prayed for strength to overcome my difficulties.

I didn’t pray for a miracle, but I prayed for deeper understanding of my faith.

I didn’t pray for change, but I prayed for wisdom to know the true meaning of my life and what God wants me to be. I prayed hard and worked even harder believing our lives will be better – and it did.

Prayer changes things but you have to do your own part.

Today when people appreciate me, I’m constantly reminded of those trying times.  I do a reality check and ask myself … “what have I done, have I really changed”?   I’d proudly say yes, life has thought me well. It was a rough journey but I am now reaping the reward of my hard work. Those challenges allowed me to mature in faith and accept an imperfect world with the right attitude. Those challenges gave me reasons to count every small blessing as though it was a great miracle. That’s how I changed!

Looking back, I feel more blessed as I live each day of my golden years.  And I can’t accept those blessings without embracing everything life has thrown my way – the highs and lows – and everything in between. 

As I look through the horizon of my retirement years, there are specific things I want to do for myself. I mean it when I say I want to live my dreams NOW. I want to be spontaneous and take every opportunity when it comes. I can be happy because I know ‘who and what’ defines my happiness and fulfillment. I am happy because I know my purpose in life.

Because the world isn’t perfect, I can get impatient, I can complain and I can get upset. Life may throw another painful punch and knock me down once more, but I wouldn’t worry.

For now, I am determined to relax and be contagiously happy ‘coz in my heart I know … I’m too blessed to be stressed!

Isabel can’t be bothered while checking out fallen maple leaves …

I was the happy yaya to my youngest niece, Isabel, during our recent family holiday in Canada. For two weeks, this child simply amazed me with her ‘pureness’, constantly reminding me of an inspiring verse in the bible – “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”-Matthew 18:3. But how does one reconcile leaving childish ways behind and becoming like a child?

Well, it’s beyond doubt, hard to be as genuine as a child. My sister asked this little girl, “Isabel, I have headache, please treat me” … “but I’m not a doctor, you have to see one”, she readily answered! No hesitation, no pretence. Children are not ashamed to say they don’t know the answer. They are not afraid to ask in their untainted curiosity. They are not sentimental and can easily accept when told they are wrong. They ask for help and cry when hurt. Adults can’t do that! We find it hard to question, to trust and depend, to show weakness – for fear of being judged.

As we mature and go through life’s toughest hurdles, it’s easy to lose the innocence of a child, weaken our faith and distrust. And I speak for myself. For fifteen years, I raised my two children as a solo parent. Those may have been my darkest days, but each time I look into their eyes, I regained my dwindling strength and continued fighting the battle of life. My spring of hope where I drew the courage I needed to survive. So whatever trials you are having now, hear that little voice inside you and see the world from the eyes of a child – honest and unafraid!

I’m reminded of a few occasions when I acted or spoke strangely, and my partner would comment “para kang bata” (you’re like a child)! But shouldn’t we all be? That’s exactly my challenge to us adults – to keep the child-like spirit inside us!

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Be joyful – laugh like a child, avoid pessimism and take pleasure in life’s journey with the Lord.

Be dependent – nurture the attitude of humility in weakness to access the bountiful grace of the Almighty.

Be not afraid – like a child learning those first steps, take up that big cross in unquestionable faith.

I admire the bond that my brother share with his daughter Isabel ’coz no matter what she’s up to, whether having a great time or in that toddler’s tantrums, she would rush to him whenever he calls and listen attentively to what he’d say …

I pray that on the day we are called back to our Creator, we will all experience the pure joy of a child running into our Father’s presence and hear Him say, “Come, my child, for yours is the Kingdom of Heaven”.