MY PERFECT FRIENDS

SUCH ARE MY PERFECT FRIENDS.... 
YOU COULD BE ONE OF THEM.

The Old Man Who Sits by The Window

The Old Man Waiting

he looked by the roadside
and no one was there
what a pitiful sight
what a pitiful sight.


i am old man now
my youthfulness, long gone
when will i return
ahh... it will not come.


i will still wait
until my last breath
who knows what comes next
who knows... who knows.


i sit by the window
from dawn til dusk
looking at the infinte
for the return.


until my last breath
i will wait....


     

FIFTY FOUR HOURS

If you say so, at last it ends.....

But i would say my piece before it will forever end.

The fifty four hours that i have stayed in your midst is not long enough for me to say that i was so fulfilled. perhaps, i was but it is not a total fulfillment, because, like a true pro, i just want more... and more...and more.

It is so hurting to see you go. Just the memories will forever remain in my heart, but i  firmly believe that one time, wee will meet again, say hi and hello, tap the shoulder, or the nape, embrace if you want it to, kiss and say goodbye again. Repeat performance of the previous seasons in my life. And so it goes, i will say my piece.

I would like to say thank you for bringing back life to me. I was supposed to be dead. But the bread and butter that you have shared have let my blood veins function again for the last fifty four hours. And not only me but for those people who are in thirst and in dire need of the sustenance that you have given to me, and Wawing, and my almost over a dozen feline friends. We survived the hunger and thirst, while i gave you the nourishment for the brain called knowledge. It is a mutual contract that bound us, and henceforth, we become friends. I was so attached to all of you, just like the previous attachments that people of the past have given to me. Still, as for now, they are still attached to me.

Thank you for the good times and the bad. The laughters. The tears. The triumphs and the defeats. Thank you for the kindness. For the loving eyes. For the hearing ears. For everything that goes in between the classroom and the outside world. Thank you so much, I will never forget those. In my heart, you will reign still supreme.

There are so many people I wish to say this.More than a hundred, and you know who you are.

Next is for the apologies. Saying sorry is not enough. I am to say I apologize for everything. For the words that just came within the way, that perhaps might have hurt some souls, afraid to speak, afraid to stand up, afraid because of my presence commanding in front. Apologies for those who were the stars of my corny jokes, those people who were sent out because of simple foolishness, and just about anything. For being so timid inside the four walls called classroom, sometimes you refer to it as prison cell, and the jail warden is me. Apologies for those whose gadgets were captured, gadgets that were a no-no inside the prison cell. For those who were busy talking while i am speaking in front, perhaps they were not interested in whatever i say or do. Apologies. For those who constantly hear the sermon from me, I am not a priest who preach, but i always make a sermon.... Apologies. For the projects that were given in radical time, which make you cram and rush and shiver, because the passing time is coming and without extension. Apologies. For everything. Apologies.

Learning is a hard process. As they always say, learn the hard way, and oh...boy... hard way it is in my midst. \
Danilo Siquig, a perfect student who wants to excel and you proved to be. Thanks for the write ups, and the stories that you have shared, Truly, you are not only the genius when it comes to life, but the master creator of philosophical creations and writings.

Sonny Soriano, a simple guy with a simple dream who was so blessed with a good voice and an excellent talent in speaking and choreography. Thank you for bringing to life an essence of sporstmanship, acceptance of defeat.

Oliver de Guzman, who likes to flash his dimples that could melt one's heart. And not only that, he exudes a presence of command and respect, and confidence. Thank you for sharing God in our midst Pastor.

Ferdinand Daileg, Julius Domingo, Marlo Domingo, Prince Charlemagne Domingo, Marc Angelo Arcangel, Romeo Talbo, Eugene Santiago, Edwin Sabado, Christian Rapisura, Mark desierto and the rest of the Maritime Department's Bravo and Charlie, you taught me to be patient as always. Your hunger for knowledge in knowing the cultures and traditions of the country is compensated with the endless, uninteresting lectures from me. Thank you also for the friendship.... Have a safe journey to your sail.

For the Education students who were so harassed by the requirements for the finals in Journalism and Creative Writing, thanks you for the time spent in my classes. I will miss the laughters, that lately were not present.

For my IT nad HRM students, hasta la vista guys. I will treasure the moments that we are so bonded, and we just spent the day laughing while learning.

Lest I will mention are the Accountancy students whom I spent the time with gladness. My three to five schedule every MWF, thru light and dark, thru thick and thin, thru triumph and defeat, thru everything.. were one of the best in my teaching career. Thank you so much for not bringing me back to life, but my spirit was so alive in your midst. Your classes is the epitome of what we educators say: Learning is FUN.

Another chapter ends... see you another chapter.

JUST ANOTHER TOUCHING STORY...

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Note: This story was taken from a shared story by my Facebook friend. FAITH IN GOD Somewhere in Milaor, Camarines Sur, there lived a fourth grader boy who would follow this route to school everyday: He has to cross the rugged plains and cross the dangerous highway where vehicles are recklessly driving to and from. Once past this highway, the boy would take a short cut, passing by the Church every morning just to say Hi to God, and faithfully say his, "Magandang umaga po" in Bicol dialect. He was faithfully being watched by a Priest who was happy to find innocence so uplifting in the morning, "Kamusta, Andoy? Papasok ka na?" "Opo padre ... "he would flash his innocent grin, the priest would be touched. He was so concerned that one day he talked to Andoy. "From school...", he advised "Do not cross the highway, you can pass through the Church and I can accompany you to the other side of the road...that way I can see that you are home safe...." "Thank you father ... " "Why don't you go home ... why do you stay in this church right after school?" "I just want to say 'Hi' to my friend, God," and the priest would leave the boy to spend time beside the altar, talking to himself, but the priest was hiding behind the altar to listen to what this boy has to say to his heavenly FATHER. "You know my math exam was pretty bad today, but I did not cheat although my seatmate is bullying me for notes... I ate one cracker and drank my water, Itay had a bad season and all I can eat is this cracker. Thank you for this! I saw a poor kitten who was hungry and I know how he feels so I gave my last cracker to him ... funny but I am not that hungry. Look, this is my last pair of slippers ...I may have to walk barefoot next week, you see this is about to be broken... but it is okay....at least I am still going to school.... Some say we will have a hard season this month, some of my classmates have already stopped going to school .... please help them get to school again, please God? ....Oh, you know, Inay hit me again, it is painful, but I know this pain will pass away, at least I still have a mother.... God, you want to see my bruises? I know you can heal them.... Here... here and .... oh ...blood ....I guess you knew about this one huh? Please don't be mad at Inay, she is just tired and she worries for the food in our table and my schooling that is why she hits us....Oh, I think I am in love ... there's this pretty girl in my class, her name is Anita ... do you think she will like me? Anyway, at least I know you will always like me, I don't have to be anybody just to please you, you are my very best friend! Hey your birthday is two days from now!!! Aren't you excited? I am! Wait till you see, I have a gift for you . but it is a surprise! I hope you will like it! Oooops, I have to go ..." then he stood up and calls out, "Padre, padre, I am finished talking to my friend .... youcan accompany me to the other side of the road now" This routine happens everyday. Andoy never fails. Father Agaton shares this every Sunday to the people in his church because he has not seen a very pure faith and trust in God, a very positive look at negative situations. One Christmas day, Father Agaton was sick so he could not make it in the Church, he was sent to the hospital. The Church was left to 4 manangs who would chant the rosary in 1000 miles per hour, would not smile and would always find fault in what you do, they were also very well versed in cursing if you irritate them! They were kneeling, saying their kilometric rosary when Andoy, coming from his Christmas party,playfully dashed in. "Hello God! I ......" "P----!! (a curse) bata ka!! Alam mo nang may nagdadasal!! Alis!!" Poor Andoy was so terrified, "Where's Father Agaton? He is supposed to help me cross the street ... and to be able to cross the street I will have to pass by the back door of this church .not only that, I have to greet Jesus. It is His birthday, I have a gift right here.... " Just as he was about to get the gift out of his shirt, the manang pulled his shirt and threw him out of the church. "Susmaryosep!!! (does the sign of the cross fervently) Alis kang bata ka, kung hindi matatamaan ka!!! So the boy had no choice but to cross the dangerous side of the road in front of the church. He crossed. A fast moving bus came in. There was a blind curve. The boy was protecting his gift inside his shirt, so he was not looking. There was so little time. Andoy died on the spot. A lot of people crowded the poor boy, the body of a lifeless young boy ... Suddenly, out of nowhere a tall man in a pure white shirt and pants, a face so mild and gentle, but with eyes full of tears... He came and carried the boy in His arms. He was crying. Curious bystanders nudged the man in white, and asked, "Excuse me sir, are you related to this child? Do you know this child?" The man in white, His face mourning and in agony, looked up and answered, "He was my best friend . " was all he said. He took the badly wrapped gift in the bloody chest of the lifeless boy, and placed it near His heart. He stood up and carried the boy away and they both disappeared in sight. The crowd was curious ... On Christmas Eve, Father Agaton learned of the shocking news. He visited the house, and wanted to verify about the man in white. He consulted the parents of Andoy. "How did you know that your son died?" "A man in white brought him here." sobbed the mother. "What did he say?" The father answered, "He did not say anything. He was mourning. We do not know him and yet he was very lonely about our son's death, as if he knew our son very well. But there was something peaceful and unexplainable about him. He gave me my son, and then he smiled peacefully. He brushed my son's hair away from his face and kissed him on his forehead, then he whispered something..." "What did he say?" "He said to my boy..." the father began, "Thank you for the gift .... I will see you soon ... you will be with me..." and the father of the boy continued, "and you know for a while, it felt so wonderful ... I cried, but I do not know why....all I know is I cried tears of joy .... I could not explain it, Father, but when that man left, something peaceful came over me, I felt a deep sense of love inside ... I could not explain the joy in my heart, I knew my boy is in heaven now but...tell me, Father, who is this man that my son talks to everyday in your church, you should know because you are always there ... except at the time of his death ......"Father Agaton suddenly felt the tears welling in his eyes, with trembling knees, he murmurred, " ... He was talking to no one ...... but .. GOD...." If you love this story, please. share this on to your friends.

Will of the River

Will of the River~ by:Alfredo Gonzales

By my wife’s ancestral home flows a river. For a dozen summers I have visited it, and almost every year I make an effort to trace its course back to its source in the neighboring hills; I do not consider my vacation there complete without doing this. In common with others streams of its kind, our river suffers much from the summer drought. I have seen it so shrunken that fish lay lifeless on the parched sand and gravel of its bed. But this summer I saw something I never had been sufficiently observant in other abnormally dry years, I am sure I could not have failed to notice the same thing earlier.
One morning last April, in company with a student friend and also my elder son, I started out for the hill to spend the day by the rapids and cascades at a place called Intongaban. We followed the course of the river. After we had walked a kilometer or more, I saw that the river had disappeared and its bed was dry. I looked around in wonder because past our little country house below and out toward the sea half a mile or so farther down, the river was flowing clear and steady in its usual summer volume and depth. But where we stood at the moment there was no water to be seen.All about us the wide river bed was hot and dry.
We pursued our way on toward the hill, however, and walking another kilometer we saw the stream again, though it had spread itself so thin it was lost at the edge of the waterless stretch of burning sand and stones. And yet, continuing our way into the hills, we found the river grow deeper and stronger than it was as it passed by our cottage.
To most people, I suppose, there is nothing strange or significant in this. Perhaps they have seen such phenomenon more than once before. To me, however, it was a new experience and it impressed me like all new experiences. To me it was not merely strange, it suggested a spiritual truth.
Flowing down from its cradle in the mountains just as it left the last foothills, the river had been checked by long, forbidding, stretch of scorching sand. I had read of other streams that upon encountering similar obstacles irretrievably lot themselves in sand mud. But Bakong- because that is the name of our river- determined to reach the sea, tunneled its way, so to speak, under its sandy bed, of course choosing the harder and lower stratum beneath, until at last it appeared again, limpid and steady in its march to sea.
And then I thought of human life. I was reminded of many a life that stopped short to its great end just because it lacked the power of will to push through hindrances. But I thought most of all those who, like our river, met with almost insurmountable obstacles but undismayed continued their march, buried in obscurity perhaps but resolutely pushing their way to the sea, to their life’s goal. I thought of men like Galileo, who continued his work long after his sight had failed; of Beethoven, who composed his nobles and sublimest symphonies when he could no longer hear a single note; of Stevenson, who produced some of his greatest works after he was doomed to die of tuberculosis; and of Cecil Rhodes, who was sent to Africa to die of an incurable disease, but before he obeyed the summons carved out an Empire in the Dark Continent. These resolute and sublime souls reminded me of what our river taught me- that if we cannot overcome obstacles, we can under come them.
Another lesson I learned from Bakong is the fact that the river was not merely determined to flow just anywhere; it was determined to reach the sea, to the great end. Many streams manage to surmount barrier they meet along the way, but they come out of obstacles after much labor only to end in a foul and stagnant marsh or lake. How like so many human lives. How like so many people who, in the springtime of their youth and in the summer of their early manhood, showed splendid heroism against frowning odds, determined to overcome those hostiles barriers, only in the autumn of their lives to end in defeat, disgrace, and remorse. On the other hand, think of other lives that, like our river, kept their way even to the end of their course.
Bakong by continuing its march to the sea, kept itself fit for the service of nature and man; and not only that, it expanded its field of usefulness. And does this not suggest that the river of man’s life should be likewise?For if in the face of obstacles it lacks the strength of will to continue keeping itself fit to serve and seeking new opportunities for service, it will ultimately become useless to others.
As I marveled at the power of Bakong to push its way through such a seemingly impassable barrier, I discerned the secret- a secret that has a message for all of us. For Bakong was able to carry on, to continue its watery pilgrimage and reach the immensity and sublimity of the sea only because its source is the vast and lofty mountains. Unless a stream draws its power form a source of sufficient high and magnitude, it cannot do as our river did this summer. It will not have the strength to cut its way through great obstacles and reach the sea at last. Here is one of the marvelous secrets of life, and how many have missed it! Verily, if a man derives his strength and inspiration from a low and feeble source, he will fall to ”arrive.” Unless man draws his power from some source of heavenly altitude, unless the stream of his life issues from a never-failing source, unless, in other words, his soul is fed from heights of infinite power, he may fear that he will not reach the sea. But if his spirit is impelled and nourished by an inexhaustible power from on high, he will, in spite of all obstructions, finish his course, if not in the glory of dazzling achievements, at least in the nobility of a completed task faithfully done.

KIKAY: THE MUSICAL

HEARTBREAKING REALITIES IN LIFE