A mad cat over tornado?

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READ : Psalms 74 (A prayer for National Deliverance)

At 4:00 am of the 30th of October, 2013 I woke up from a bad dream. It’s long with different plots and settings. The venue is in a seemingly forest near the beach. Three curly-haired young ladies in their school uniforms were eating with me using chopsticks. At first, one of them wanted to show me the correct way of using chopstick cause she’s doubtful of my ability but at the end, she used flattery words instead of criticism. I knew she’s just ashamed because I’m older than her.

Next scene. Queue of trees was facing the beach. A young boy appeared. His face doesn’t looked innocent, but appeared as antagonist with his devilish, sly smile. He was holding a dagger. Using it, he easily had engraved a horizontal straight line around the tree’s body. And right then, the tree was cut ready to fall towards the direction of a unique, gorgeous, rich coconut tree. I never had seen such kind in my life, not even on TV, internet or magazines. Aiming to trample any thing underneath by it’s weight and strength, the huge tree fell destroying some parts of it and not totally the whole tree. It happened because a strong American woman in her 40s suddenly appeared from nowhere just to save the “Tree of life”. As I remembered, that tree looked really strange which has two layers: upper and lower. The upper was partially damaged but the lower was all right though its roots were slightly loosened its grip from the ground making it looked weak and almost collapsing. However, it stood still and strong.

Next scene was on the beach. The water was extremely blue. There were floating cottages. I could see two bridges connecting the cottages together. There’s a seawall dividing the colorless pale water from the extreme blue one. Although the water looked so clean, clear, quiet and peaceful, it seemed artificial to the point that it wasn’t moving. I saw few “tilapia” fish swimming underneath which made me giggle for excitement. I wanted to catch some. On the next cottage, I saw my former student lying comfortably on the bench. I appeared so young like a high school student.

Then from afar, I heard a voice calling me. I recognized it from a famous showbiz personality (Paul Jake Castillo). He asked permission to take a photo while holding his camera. Before I nod, he automatically threw his slipper purposely so that I could stare at its motion and that he could achieve his aim for a better camera angle and the shot to be fancily stolen. “Nice!,” he amusedly said.

Actually, before that thing happened, I asked permission from the manager (the same person I refer as my student), but he strictly disapproved my request. It just turned and showed how hardheaded and disobedient I am in that dream when I insisted to continue the photo-shoot. Next, I rushed towards the cottage to get my camera. While I’m searching. I saw a cat trying to scratch and bite me. I ignored it and from the cottage window, I saw my sister with other friends taking multiple poses from a distance. Paul Jake was holding his camera and seemed having fun with them as his models. I envied them wishing I could had been part of that group pictorial. I regretted telling myself it could had been better if I just stayed there a little longer.

I resume my searching. I mustn’t miss the fun. The mad cat that looked so frighteningly valiant was ready to attack again. When it finally jumped over me, I screamed which woke me up.

RELATE: On Nov 4, 2013, Monday evening, tornado hit Metro Cebu, Philippines. It originated in northern Bohol before crossing the sea and striking the coastal areas in cities of Mandaue, Cebu, Lapu-Lapu and Danao and towns of Compostela and Carmen. It occurred during a thunderstorm caused by tropical depression. It originated from a body of water and traveled from Bohol to Cebu so it can be called a waterspout or tornado that forms over bodies of water like oceans, rivers and lakes causing extensive property damage. As I watched the news on TV, the devastated structure of houses and trees turned upside-down—houses mostly located along the coastline left me in awe.

Does this event have something to do with my dream, or the other way around?

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Four days after I dreamt I was attacked by an angry cat, my co-worker told me that she was bitten by a cat on November 1, the same day I arrived at my aunt’s house, play with my cousin and their cat. I was extra careful while playing with the cat after my bad dream. My colleague was so worried, in fact, I’m the first one she shared her problem with and asked an advice from.  She was so worried which made me forgot to share my dream about the mad cat that attacked me.

What was that dream supposed to convey when in real situation it wasn’t me who was directly affected? Or am I just so damn at interpreting my own dreams? If all my dreams may have come true then I have to wait for the right time for it to happen before I draw conclusion. After all, the God I’m serving is never too late at His promises, signs and wonders. He’s such a God of perfect timing. That dream serves as warning and correction. Warning from a future accident or danger and correction from wrong choices and priorities. I knew He don’t want me to dwell in my worldly passion like photography, my craze and ultimate hobby.

 

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Is God Good All the Time? (Confessions of a former widow)

I was touched by how you said God whispered these words, “You can trust me.” into your soul. Yes HE can be trusted even in times of discouragements, depressing moments, when we doubt of HIS existence or HIS goodness and mercy. He is merciful and is willing to listen to our cry. I firmly believe in HIS words and promises…Let’s sing Psalms 138:1-8 in our own soul’s melody. Great is thy faithfulness!

Dancing On My Ashes

by Heather Spring {Gilion}
(Blog post originally appeared on JCaro.com.)

I cried through most of my twenties.

Who am I kidding? I’m still crying in my thirties, but for very different reasons.
Thirteen years ago, dreams were coming true. I had my college diploma in hand, the handsomest fellow by my side, and a wedding ring on my finger!
“God is good!” said the preacher. “All the time!” said the congregation.

I grew up in a church that said it a lot. We were taught when anyone from the pulpit said, “God is good…” in response, the congregation should echo back with exuberance “All the time!” 

As my life of ease and dreams was on its way to “happily ever after”, I easily joined the echo: Yep, God is good… all the time! (Even if I didn’t chant it out loud, I gave the pastor a good head nod.)

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Now a celestial body

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(phototakenbymein Camotes Island,Cebu,PhilippinesCy2013)

(A letter to my grandpa)

 

You’d been so stern to me

And I had been so fearful, obedient and respectful to you.

I might at first hated your sternly way of discipline

I might….hated you for being so cold

Pretending not to care

I might hate your over-protected type of… especially on me.

Your words had been the law in the house,

But never have I hated you.

In fact, it’s so unusual that you’d given me freedom after college, received awards and finally passed my licensure exam.

It’s unusual because I didn’t use to it.

I didn’t used to it because the feeling was new.

The feeling was new because it seemed empty.

It seemed empty because I realized that the freedom you gave wasn’t satisfactory.

It wasn’t satisfactory because it lacked the power.

It lacked the power because I could no longer felt that same love, care and concern you show every time your stern nature prevails.

Nevertheless, that was the first time I appreciated your way of discipline and upbringing.

Does that mean I miss your overprotected nature which in some ways had negative effects on me?

…which had taught me to be rebellious for joining restricted organizations?

…which led me of becoming an over-achiever both academically and non-academically with the wrong motives and intentions and that was to win my dad’s presence, acceptance and appreciation?

…which had taught me to run away from home?

…which had taught me to wish I wasn’t the youngest grandchild so you wouldn’t treat me like a baby incapable of taking care of its own?

…which had continually reminds me that my own father, your youngest son, so dear to you and a prodigal disowned me?

…which had continually stirred me to long for my own father, to continually wonder how does it feel of having him rather than you?

Every time my friends ask which or what my ideal guy is, it’s so easy to say, thus fooling myself

Since it is not which or what but “Who”

..and that who is you.

 

Yes you’d been so successful in moulding me.

You’d been a father of 9 but still you were able to manage to be a father to me, your grandchild.

Up until now, you’ve been reminding me of you.

It’s been two months since you left but I always see you in my dreams.

You’re not forgotten.

Why not? My biological father is alive but seemed dead.

You became our wall, always showing your strength even though it needs some weeping.

Yet, my only regret was not attending at your last wake.

My pride had eaten me up, I was full of rage.

I know you didn’t choose.

In fact, you stand by me, never left me…though not saying a word but your actions were enough to cover our distresses. (You’re such a man full of deeds than words.)

You stand by me…fearing that if you could miss even a second

I could possibly be hurt,

Or worse, I could hurt badly in revenge.

And you never let it happened.

 

You had a lot, wealth was sufficient though you never spoiled me.

Hence, taught me to toil telling me that a single grain of rice wasted is equivalent to one year starvation to the farmer’s family.

Though you can afford but because you wanted me to learn to labour, to learn the essence of hard work and to put myself in other’s situation so as not to brag of what we have while the others were lacking by making me accomplished a task any princess never did and that was to make a broomstick out from the fresh coconut leaves you gathered as a punishment. Uncle disagreed with your punishment telling it’s too much looking at my dainty hands and doubting of my capability for such laborious work. On uncle’s surprise I really did more than expected of me. The secret was I developed the happy heart while I was doing my broomstick. Uncle from time to time check on me at that time believing I was crying or complaining, but I never ran out of songs to sing. I just kept on singing and smiling while I was doing it. I didn’t know why. I just felt the essence of working and earning so hard. I’m only high school at that time, but I wanted to grow as fast as I could to know how it feels of earning one’s own living. And, I realized that was the sweetest punishment I ever received in my entire life from an earthly relative.

I will continue what you wanted of me

AS what you wished of me becoming a moulder not just a mere teacher.

I may repeat it a thousand times and I won’t get tired of it. “You’d been a father to me.”

 Your love was more than I wished for. Others said, I’m so lucky for having 2 fathers—yeah who said I’m not? I had a grandfather and a father at the same time!

How I miss you grandpa.

 

Time can tell…

Time can heal…

Time can forgive and forget…

Time can release…

But I hope it could teach

So that I could learn to LET GO.

 

Lovingly yours,

Kri-kri

——end——–

 

 

TO THE READERS:

Friends, I didn’t write the letter to seek sympathy. I write this to reach out to those individuals having hard times letting go of their loved ones.

It is true that we, all of us have our human nature’s matter of belongingness. Hence, we must also know that our souls need more (belongingness). It either belongs to lightness or darkness. Why am I saying this? It’s because when we’re in this world, we seek more of human love and material possessions. Please read Colossians 3:2 and Romans 8:5-17.

As of human love, we feel the love of the family, friends and other people, etc. But friends, earthly and human love is perishable but the love of God is eternal. Earthly father’s protection, love and devotion are limited but heavenly father’s providence is boundless, endless and limitless. See John 14:16-18 “…I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.”

Also, Philippians 4:13; 19 “…I can do everything through him who gives me strength; ….and my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”

 

For those who are still grieving upon the loss of loved ones, be happy. Your mourning must not prolong. Meditate upon this word: Romans 14: 8-9 “If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living.”

 

EARTHLY FATHER VERSUS HEAVENLY FATHER

Our heavenly father’s discipline is more compare to our earthly fathers’ as the scripture says in Hebrews 12: 5-12:

“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves and punishes everyone he accepts as a son! Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons. Moreover, we have all human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the father of our spirits and live! Our fathers discipline us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Therefore strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths of your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.”

And if you labour, work not for your own advantage. READ Colossians 3: 23 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.”

 

 

a short story: GREAT WINDS HELP

Image phototakenbyme@Davao City,Ph/cy2013

 

               Whirl…whisper. Now nearer. You can feel the cold. Jaw frozen. Body soon numbs. Meow… “Whew! Thank God! Thanks pussy! You saved me…” You hardly talked and held breath. Your throat dried. “I need water— “How much? —deal!” Loads of files, bunch of paper works and line-up of calls awaits you. What a morning greetings! Winnowing appointments and working schedule is a good advice for you. Good job! The day ends up as usual with same old style and fashion. Slightly untying your ties, scratching the nearly baldhead and a little curtsy to open your knob completes you with a smile.

              

               Weeklong, more clients were adding to the list. Now, the bee competes the buzzing of your business’ busyness. “Boss, buckle up, we will paint the town red for hundreds of clients,” whimper by your secretary. Darkness. A little light screamed as it beams. Cool breezily air zooms up. Again and again it came nearer and nearer, back and forth. Then, it twirls the post. Blagh! Fall down the post. A shriek was heard. How pity! Some creatures out there might have been crushed. Bothered, you remain unuttered. Your sanity protrudes don’t ever attempt to help or else. Numb body almost frozen but insanity insists you must do something. Help!

 

               The second deafeningly ticks. Shit! You drop exasperation. What time is it? You sprint to reach your locker. Pull out all the twisted-up stuff. Mr and Mrs Smith gallop as it lands on the floor. “Nay, the tickets are placed just right over here. It couldn’t be!” iPod mutters, digital camera mumbles, iPhone sobbed after been stamped by your laptop as the searcher swept those. Even Harry Potter’s magic wand has nothing to do with its spellbinding stunts against your claws of toss.

 

               The grandstand waits as you stiffly finding still the lost. Later, you held breath as the monster winds bellow and blow you hastily. Then you found exhaustion at crouching on your lap. Dazzled by that impact, you aimed a weighty arose. “If only that wind, that monster would have not fetched me up, I probably won’t be ruined by my projects. A great mishap!” you kept on blaming. Anyway, where am I? Survival of the fittest projected the title onto its audience. Better. You found ease at the east part of the world as the compass directs you the site. “Evils of the world welcome have fun and play with the evils. Let’s drink and get drunk”: This is but an approachable phrase that hosts to delight you come in beyond dimensions.

 

               You roamed, seek normal looking-people or just a single person enough to humour with. Later, you found groups of Christians. There were also youth discussing their sentiments and plan to organize for a cause. While, in the next corner, you found Libra symbols trying to balance itself from the (+) and (-) on having dispute, but seem to be the negative lowered indicating more weight it has than the positive. Awhile, the grounds run against your feet as you visually clear the picture in front of you. “It must not be the real devil!” shouted by your nerves while looking attentively onto its double-pointed horns and wagging tails. However, groups of Christians pace nearer on your side. You sat in against the wall behind them. Mad on the thought, you heard oneself rebuking, “In Jesus’ name…!” repeatedly over and over again. Unfortunately, the louder your voice, the stronger the invisible force push the Christians making you squeakily flat against the wall. You fought, squeezed out for relief. Suffocated, pictures revive and flash in big screen of your imagination.

 

               Child-like giggles, laughs…Oh! How good to reminisce those days! Darkness. “I hate you papa! huhuhu…” That was me honey, it was your papa, can’t you recognize my voice over the phone? Ha! Ha! Ha! It was me!”…Stop it! I don’t want to hear…stop it! You cried out but still the voice deafeningly shrieks in your nerve. Then you see yourself pacing and mumbling, “Liar! Both of you! That woman, she seems to like my dad. That slut! Why does my dad have to do that—-fool somebody especially me, his own child? Is he avoiding? Whom? Us? How good pretender he may be!” your face flashed with total outrage. Now, you were stamping madly on the horizontal white lanes of the road, forgetting to throw glimpse on each side until—–dizziness. Oh…Blagh! The child! The child! Look out! It has nothing to do with it. It’s too late.

 

               Another chapter of your life can now be seen. “Excuse me, excuse me…” Exhausted, you kept on running beyond your deadlines. Paper works, projects…who can skip out with this mess? But you have to. Your busy life colours your day, remember?  “Somebody must do me a leap or else I may forever scar of using it, ‘mean this stuff drives me crazy. I even forgot to pray and who can tell what my face now looks like. I even don’t bother to look in a mirror…Suddenly, a butterfly lands on your face. A white one. “What a—oh! This couldn’t be!”

 

               “Hey! White butterfly when lands and stays longer on you mean bad luck,” you heard someone. It alarms you. “Go away, you white insect!” You yell but still it sticks. Then, strong wind followed, an angry one that greets, “Hi Come on…” “No!” You forcefully yell and held on against its adamant vacuum-like pull. “Bye! You have to let go.” People around grinned. They seem having fun at your misfortune. “No!!!…

 

               “Hey wake up, you’re dreaming…” you heard your sister’s angelic voice.

               “I heard Lucifer instructed his angels to keep us busy with non-essentials of life. To occupy our minds with so many things to keep us away from God. To invent luxury to make us dependent, lazy and materialistic and wealthy, to make us commit sinful acts just to get it whatever way is. They will also have to entertain us through music so as to tickle our spirit in worldly idolatry. To bring us in concerts and amusements, to make us forget our problems and not to ask God or pray for help instead. To tempt us with false hopes offered by sweepstakes, raffles, lottery: sorts of gambling that feed our vices. To fill our days with dailies, of 24-hour news, totally updated so as not to loosen up communication with the world. To keep us busy, busy and busy to forget God, to forget to pray and lose our salvation.”

 

 

               “Is that so? It does not amaze me.” Your sister gave a sly smile. You reacted defensively.

“What? What’s wrong with how I stare at you? Oh brother, that was a great reminder for you.” Your sister sprinted. “I’m getting late, got to go but before I forgot, just leave the key to Mrs Alipio.”

               “There isn’t other key aside from this?”

               “That’s the only one, just fetch up breakfast for yourself. I prepared some in the kitchen…bye!”

               Your sister sprinted and slammed the door. Blagh! You saw the product of the Gideon’s fall down, dust was over its face but you manage to take a little blow to wash those dusts, opened it, then you wonder. You were having peace now on reading with its company.

HIS REPLY

(Upon failure to steal any picture of my former coach to post here is this man who looks older than him. I hope he won’t kill me for this <chuckle>)
chess

(Originally published in the Cascade magazine cy 2007; revised 2013 @ WordPress)

Half rotten eggs roll by and splash. They chase me. So cuddly. The puppies were all over spreading their cutest smile. It’s as if I’ll be playing Lizzie McGuirre. I doubt but promise not to write at my hectic schedule but my pen just pulled me up, said, “Come on in, start blowing me up!” to scream at everybody’s mad-full thought connected beyond differences and genuinely. Enough of melancholy. There’s enough closet to cater that.

Once, I’ve enter I allow myself quaff all possible perplexities, rendezvous of whether bliss and nightmare and of course, fun and excitement. We youth had that spirit—being ecstatic: to try something new and extraordinary. But said usually by mommies, “Okay…but I just don’t want to see you cry when you get nothing good at it.” Yeah! To try and be ready to win and win. If fail, who said unfair.

I’ve learned to love myself more at the eruption of million’s affection. I’ve learned to care more once touched by their sincere tap—silent yet real and felt. I’ve learn to trust myself as the crowds cheered—unaired amaze though influenced. I’ve learned to fight back as a call of duty. Having sides at least on the good is where I rest my feet defending undefeated and supposed triumph. We are not the tail but the head. All are leaders. A follower is an obvious instance. We have to deny nothing from our own existence but our cowardice from anything desirable of competing for. Grow up, stretch to reach on top. Develop, and then share. That would be the greatest achievement from your endeavour.

Learning across splattered inks or matrix of odds and evens takes time, energy, fear and anxiety. Well of course, the idea doesn’t focus on it constantly…all learning were. A pal said that the easiest way to learn is to let yourself surround with people smarter than you are. Why not? If you’re the most privileged thinker even a bogus pretender and the rest were mediocre at that fleeting, how could you learn or at least snatch something new? Same with certain chess guru that to be a grandmaster you’ll have to spend time, sweat, enough nerves, patience, focus, perseverance, commitment and other personal character will do the rest which will lead you to either glory or defeat. True to it that at first, he scared me maybe because his style of training is where I didn’t used to—to where I thought drags my courage and confidence worse. The course of everyday practice turns into usual almost and always bad. I could remember those defeated exercises that brought me home silent, exhausted and frustrated. So, I decided to glue myself at home and promised not to get back unless have my own tactics. And, that was the beginning of his smiles. I even no longer heard his usual “Unsa ka man oi!” every time I do the wrong moves of carelessness. To pay the price, I felt the gold medal I received from that tournament seemed heavier than the collective abstract sweat and headache I gained from the consecutive practice of losing. At last I rejoiced, “So, this is how it feels.”

Well, learning to correct my own presides after others did so. Learning from neither knowledge nor skills but the attitudes l haven’t notice all those past years adds my being. Hence, remind me of my own weaknesses that I have to deal with. Others are obvious and gutsy but more still to go waiting to be unravelled along with unexpected thorns and pebbles.

Plead not. We can’t assess our former foolishness if our will is ruled by our passion. We can’t learn from anything controlled by barriers of vice and lack of faith. However, privilege to choose, man’s fate can be drawn through his own idiosyncrasy. And somewhat, there’s so much thing we have to learn from our past experiences and to react is to laugh about them, celebrate each crazy unsatisfying decision making, enlighten the pessimistic feelings of distress that once was warm and glow. After all, being tired is not final and to rest doesn’t mean in stationary passive wander by extravagant spirits of lad and lass even at 60s. Truth is, I had just recovered out from one unfulfilled expectation. But I had learned my lesson. Not all desires munch at seconds or whatever wanted. Not always, not all at once and still not one at a time. It’s just that you have to appreciate the art of perfect timing and God alone knew when it will be better than men’s omniscience. Work hard while you pray.

How much is your pet?

 

(This feature article was first published in my dear college publication, The Cascade, vol.23 no.2, March 2008, my last term as EIC)

My family is a pet lover. A super-duper. Huge, thin, furry, plumb, cuddly, snappy, keen, shabby, graceful, stiff, awkward, haggard, spiky, no matter how far it is comparing for or its pungent come across, all pets are deemed irresistible of munching. Thus, no wonder they considered themselves as hard-won tame burglar. That’s why we at home cautiously paste our eyes at meals not because (we always wanted to fill our tummy) but because a brilliant fellow down some yards away is always ready to attack. That creation is a typical uneasy without table manner. Well, forgive me. What else could you expect for an uneducated animal!

To fraternize, we had legally raised chickens, cattle and burly pigs that choose not to live with us in the city. Farm for them   is a way of life. While, at home, we had unique friendly creatures—frogs, mice, lizards and cockroaches that after all feel us more secure without their company. Moreover, not to forget those tiny microorganisms which among all were so kind and helpful in our vinegar industry, only at home. My grandfather used to wake up early in the morning to fill those plastics cups loaded with natural made vinegar out from a fence to fence daily routine against the military ovation of our dear palm tree. Mice are not kind ‘a patient in dealing with their masters. Crotchety against them even a whisper cannot save your whole property. That is why you should be very careful if you had that kind of sensitive and smart untouched pet. We also had chickens burgeoning. The ne’er-do-well squirm invites expectators to witness their brawl. Hence, got instant native chicken soup ready for supper.

Among those presented creatures, three were considered legally adopted. Of course, without pertinent papers or any credentials. They are canines. It isn’t surprising how you react. What makes it interesting with a common man’s best friend? All got it. Have it. Some jailed. Some hardly neck laced with chains. Some were not given proper care and attention. Some deserted…some are lost and slaughtered. The most terrible thing I had witness during my innocence is a dog hung, heated, hair falling and boom! An hour of merrymaking with liquor until dawn when mine was overcast with gloom.

We love our pets. We properly nourished them. A proper discipline, like parent to a child showing great love, never was to violate animal rights as we spank them. We teach them when to ask, although ears flapping speak. We teach them how to entertain visitors so as to bid “Bye! Some other time ‘hope you will wear pleasant smell than today.” We take them to bath. A whit could be enough, at least not to the point of brushing their teeth.

Let me do the mustering.  “Pangit”, our burly monstrous black dog who scares me even was chained in the morning so as the family’s bank could not be bankrupt out of paying anti rabies vaccine. In night-time, that’s the time for him to jog whatever he wants as if he satisfies what freedom means and to drive away unwanted visitors—pertaining to “Akyat Bahay Gangsters.”

Next on the list is “Bungoton”, the uncommon imported breed of Irish terrier. The name came up so as to complement his whole identity: a beardy golden brown. His attitude of welcoming visitors either could irritate down to bringing an outpouring outrage. He mastered swaggering as if telling us, “I’m the boss. You should pay much respect.” He is so talented, zealous fellow which oftentimes stirs my impatient as he usually approach me with dirt—product obtained from his tricky proud manoeuvre of winning attention. Sure enough that some family members are deem responsible for this. However, after all, he often entertains and makes us laugh trading-off our impatience than creating good career out of being a troublemaker. This is what makes him worth.

Alas! My fave dog, a puppy, a cute white with black spots named “Mahal” has just died some months ago. He is the only survivor whom had reached four months out from prematurity. I watched him grow, became my playmate, a good friend, a comforter. He used to pamper my melancholy and anxiety…sleeping at my lap, snatching and biting my slipper, sits whenever I told him so, embracing me with angelic stare of innocence, he’s so good at. His first bark at last, proved us wrong—he isn’t dumb. And…his lost just reminds us of our past dogs’ sullen goodbye. The cadence no longer visible but now part of history.

A dire animal extinction may be far possible to any domestic animals. Yet, a gradual but drastic arrest of tramp roaming at public streets at the belief of their collective ruination to the city’s peace and order, whipped though innocent and leniently slaughtered can never be impossible to attenuate them at large. Animal activists were born because of this: to stop lawless violence against animal welfare and rights that we citizens neither pet lover nor a combination of sheer corruptible has to be obliged with, so as protecting our properties.

I remember how a foreign segment, usually aired at particular cable channel Animal Planet once featured a true to life story on how an adopted dog was able to save an eight months old baby from a near-death situation, had touched my heart.

You too, have your own stories to tell about your pets. How much you value them will then profit you with the same kind in return. Moreover, raising and moulding a pet is same as raising and moulding a child in such a way of providing an amount of love, care, attention and discipline. Let’s just learn to love everything grasp by our faculties provided that it is only a lent thing. Your pet is a prodigious talent. Indeed, good treatment is what it deserves. (Jenny Nalzaro)ImageImage

COMFORT ZONE

COMFORT ZONE -jenny nalzaro

(this feature article was originally published in The CASCADE, official student publication of my dear college in March 2006 (Vol. 21 No. 2), my second term as Editor-in-Chief which was uneasy but worthwhile.)

Got everything: friends suitors, high grades, popularity, acceptance, admiration and money? What else could you ask for? You have endured all of that and have passed through millions of the narrowest needles. Predicaments you know aren’t easy. You  have heard the nights of your endless cry, weeping from the pangs of continuous lash, then asking for solace. Your cry pervades all through the night between those dim walls.

The irritating ray of the sunshine woke you. Oh! Find yourself low lying barely out of bed and had slept in the cold base of the four-walled. “What happened?”, you whisper with grimaced face. You have felt great pain in your head. Promptly, you went on fixing yourself, recalling what happened last night. Until…you found your soles sticking through the coarse-particles. You’re in a shore! And how have you got yourself there? “Oh I’m not! I’m conscious now, not at all drunk!” For a while, your puzzled-mind felt solemness in the place, ‘Take a walk’, suddenly you heard from nowhere. Reluctantly, your feet find their way through the cool sand hit by foams of the waves. The day was fine and you find peace with its company. Your mind is no longer running billions of brain cells asking: What, How, Where, When…

After an hour of attaining much consciousness, events suddenly flash through your subconscious mind. Pictures visualize both positive and negative forces. Then, you have been reminiscing the past events. The exact word now was clearly injecting your senses. It spelled ;B-L-I-S-S. Continue to download then its meaning and graphics printed out. It reads: Individuals’ fads, not contented with what they had, journeyed and lived and vagabond, not until they can find what they’re longing for: Bliss: How can we find? Portraying your eyes on magnificent man-made edifices, cars—all sort of earthly stuffs promenading luxuriously, ignoring thyself lost control and get drunk in worldly wealth? Or how about reaching the peak of success: the career you choose. Too much of your expectation. That’s enough to feel proud of and celebrate with…but still you aren’t happy—there is something you long for—–was–barren—-EJECT. The impulses become out of order. You feel sorry for not having it finished, “Am I being lunatic? What’s happening to me now?” Your mind panicked. “Relax! Calm down….”

You had to scrutinize. Then went on fixing the out-of ordered impulses. Nothing comes out, tried again. But nothing still. Finally! It goes: Assiduously spending your days, weeks, months and years—entire life! Aren’t you tired of it? Do you or do you not find contentment with it? Is that for you a matter of accomplishment? Have you find happiness with it?

Your head ached, “Eeeeh…can’t hold it…” Scrap it. You burst in tears. Now you knew what you’re asking for. Though hard time finding the answer, mind you, the answer was so simple. It’s GOD. All the sacrifices, accomplishments would be useless if you’re far away from God. Scripture says, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you.” (Matthew 6:33) Happiness in the world and happiness by your own desires were just partial contentment and enjoyment. It will vanish. Just a click and delete and it’s all gone.

But happiness with God is worthwhile and eternal. Do not let the world evolve around you and don’t let it dictate and motivate your life. Remember that God is a jealous God. Before you accomplish something, accomplish first God to enter in your heart. Have His image copy, paste then print (if you want to). By the way, photo is already programmed. If you’re poignant, just surf on the web of the scriptural passage, meditate with it then you can find poise peace, genuine and eternal happiness.

Kick. Held your foot on the ground and it cramped. It is in this manner that you don’t notice the sun set. How long have you been there? So peculiar, you visualize a crystal, a low-lying crystal drop, drop, drop into the water far away, but how strange! Seemed to be near on your eyesight but you ignore it. Focusing your attention on the sunset, it gaze on its grandeur. Then, you heard your voice echoing, “Whoa…thank you lorddd…Thank God, there is Goddd…” and burst in laughter.