Why,Oh Why?

But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. Luke 2:19

At almost the same time of the early evening—just when the last streaks of daylight finally gives way to the evening , I light the “katol” and set it under the table in the open terrace. 

Bliss

Last week, I was very privileged to witness what heaven might feel like-- twice! Two celebrations of love— one happening a day after the other.

Part 1: A July Marian Pilgrimage

Ever since I organized an outing to Busay for my mother and her sisters (The Road to Happiness), they now eagerly anticipate the next adventure. 

Knowing how much happiness the simple trip brought to  my senior travel group, I committed to come up with at least one activity a month for them.

After our excursions in May to the gardens of Busay along the transcentral highway of Cebu, I arranged an afternoon of ballroom dancing for June. I contacted my mom’s elderly DI (dance instructor) who we have known for the last 30 years or so.  Although 60 years of age, the DI managed to out-dance us all.  My mother, her sisters and the house staff twirled their cares away in the tiny living room of my mom’s house.  Of course, making it doubly fun was the merienda spread of native delicacies: bico, bibingka, bud-bud with mangoes and tsokolate, and empanada.

Hello Again

Over the years since I retired, I have made it a habit to start my day by attending the 6:30AM mass at my nearby parish church.  Doing so puts me in a positive spirit that would serve me well throughout the rest of the day.  These daily ritual has also afforded me the chance to make the acquaintance of several parishioners.  Mostly senior citizens, a sprinkling of empty-nesters and working folks who have time to spare before rushing off to work.

Must Share

My alarm had gone off. It’s 4:30AM.  Anticipating what lay ahead made for a fitful sleep. Splashing cold water on my face gave me the jump start I needed.  Quickly, I got myself dressed. I tossed my camera and phone into my bag and headed down to the kitchen.

In less than 30 minutes, I was ready with my assignment: the group’s light breakfast and more.  Two mini coolers filled with solo bottles of frozen ice tea and bottles of cold water; two packs of chilled jello treats; a dozen each of ensaymadas and warm empanadas; mint candies and packs of wet wipes.

Nine pilgrims. One destination: The Divine Mercy Shrine in Marilao, Bulacan. 

Reflect to Refresh

Since I retired, I find myself spending more time keeping a close eye on my spiritual growth.  Like most Catholics, my watchfulness peaks during Lent.  And why not? Mass homilies during the Lenten season focus on the need to pray, to change, to repent, to forgive, to listen, to follow. 

And I love that I am reminded again and again. Unlike some of my friends who can quote bible verses by heart, I stumble to remember the exact words or instructions.  

Joy-filled Tagalog Morning

The Sunday before Valentines Day happened to be Mentoring Sunday. A one-hour, once a month program where volunteers, like me, spend time with the parish's scholars.

 (Know more about this by clicking here and here and here )

As I was absent the previous month, the committee felt I should make up for it by taking the lead.  This means coming up with an appropriate subject matter to bring to the attention of the children.  Although it had to be delivered in Tagalog, I gamely accepted.  My poor grasp of the language always made for comedy relief.   At the very least, I would have made the children and their parents smile as they try to make sense of what I was saying.

And now the end is near…

Shortly after Typhoon Yolanda left a trail of destruction and despair along its path, a story started to make its rounds in Cebu.  This is the story.

An old beggar had approached a female devotee as she was on her way out of the Sto Nino church.  

That Friday

November 8, Friday.  I was in Cebu City the day that Typhoon Yolanda came.  I was in my sister’s house baby sitting my 7-year old niece.  I had brought my mother from her hill-top house to stay and weather the storm with us.

The morning started out with a light drizzle.  The sky was grey and did not have a hint of what was to come. By mid-morning, the rain was coming down in sheets and the wind was blowing hard—enough to bend the bamboo lining my sister’s fence almost halfway to the ground. Every now and then my mother would get up from the book she was reading and pace the floor.   My niece and I kept ourselves busy creating a diorama of a family inside a house out of a shoe box. At one point as the wind howled outside, she exclaimed, “I’m too young to die.” 

I assured her that no such harm will come to her and shifted her attention back to our project.   By lunchtime, the wind had died down and an eerie calm settled around. We had come through with hardly any damage to the house.  But what about the rest?

With electricity and phone line cut off and my celphone battery running on low,  I started texting my siblings and my daughter that we were alright.  With no contact with the outside world, we settled in for the night. I was confident that everything would be put to right the next day. 

We woke up to see a weak sun trying to break through grey clouds.   

Leaves littered the outside and there still was no electricity.  With still no news about the extent of the damage caused by the typhoon, we happily left the house for the airport to pick-up my sister. My niece was happy and relieved that her mother was finally coming home.  My mother was happy with the thought of returning back to her house.  Everything seemed right in our little world.

How very wrong we were.  Upon reaching my mother’s house, her house helpers asked permission to leave.  They live in the northern part of Cebu which was also in the path of the typhoon.  They had received text messages that the roofs of their homes were blown off.  Without hesitation, my mother let them go.  As fate would have it, I had postponed my departure and would be around to keep my mother company.

With electricity restored by late afternoon, we started to receive heart-wrenching news on teevee about the terrible damage caused to life and property.  What made matters even worse was the fact that my mother could not reach any of her brothers or sisters in Leyte.  All communication lines were down.I tried to console my mother by telling her "No news, is good news". 

By Sunday, my mother was able to get sketchy news from some relatives and friends who had managed to return back to Cebu from Ormoc, Leyte. So far, our relatives were alright but extensive damage had been caused to their homes and farms. 

What used to be miles and miles of coconut trees, now just poles sticking up in the air (pic courtesy of RC)

I have since returned back to my own home in Manila.  Everything is exactly as how I left it.  But I feel that I am not the same person.   I am now bothered by the thought that although I have given assistance,  it is not enough. And even if I continue to do so, it will never be enough.

Shining Sign

Dear Lord,

Thank you for allowing a full moon to shine on a clear sky tonight.

I would like to see this as Your sign to comfort  the Filipino people -- especially the victims of Typhoon Yolanda --  as we struggle to find our way out of the darkness of despair.

Please continue to strengthen our hope for a better tomorrow and our belief  that  good will always triumph in the end.

This I ask in the name of Jesus, your Son and our Savior.

Amen.

Not so Easy

It’s one of those rare times when I find myself staying at home for the Holy Week.  Then, those four-day break from work was perfect for getting away with the kids.  Usually to relax at the beaches of Cebu or spend time with the relatives up in the mountains of Leyte.  Since I retired, every day is vacation day for me.

The Potato Reminder

Clean up breakfast dishes. Attend parish meeting. Do grocery. Hurry back home to start preparing lunch.

It was a chore-full morning.  I was now busy peeling potatoes to go with the "bistek" I was serving for lunch.  A million and one things and scenes were going through was mind.  It was pure luck that I did not cut myself with all that thinking.

Boracay: Trying to Save the Sunlight

I had just spent three days in paradise. All because my sisters M & V were visiting from the US together with M’s hubby and son. Another sister, G, and her hubby plus my son and his girlfriend completed the reunion entourage of 9.


After more than 20 years, I was once again looking at the powdery white sands of Boracay. Fat cumulus clouds rolled over the blue, blue sky providing the perfect cover from the harshness of the tropical sun. At that very moment, everything seemed perfect.

I was willing to overlook the flight delays; the collision of our banca with another banca;

fumes from tricycles weaving dangerously on the narrow road;

the haphazard mix of sari-sari stores, massage and tattoo shops and the resorts—high and low end of every conceivable design and concept —squeezed tightly together.

All of these dismal sights and sound were nothing compared to that eventual glimpse of paradise.

In those three days, I pondered this question: Is Boracay better off today than it was 20 years ago?



20 years ago: not much resorts on the beach



Dinner by Kerosene Lamp

Do the changes justify the improvement of the financial standing of the majority of the local folks?


Eager kids rush to our boat in the hope of making a sale


Alex, our tour guide/banca owner/cook was a poor fisherman twenty years ago. Today, he owns 2 motorized bancas that he rents out to tourists. His three kids are college graduates and earning decent wages.

Need a guide? Call Alex- 0918 324 5075

Hawkers walk up and down the beach with their wares hoping to catch the eye of an interested tourist. Many coming from nearby provinces and as far as Mindanao.

Sun hats: P150

What of the environment?

Towards early evening, resort employees come out to rake the sands—picking up trash and sea weeds washed ashore. At night the tides come in and give the sands a once over. In the morning, everything is untouched and new again.

Surely the great number of visitors must be putting a strain on sanitation.

While walking on the soft sand, I saw bits of broken glass. While island hopping, I noticed a plastic bucket bobbing over the waves.

What of the moral fiber of the community?

There are many sad stories of the local youth being taken advantaged by island guests. Alcoholic beverages are consumed more than water; parties have been the jump off point to rowdy behavior; and, modesty is set aside while prancing around the island.

A photo shoot for a Men's magazine

While attending Sunday mass, I noticed that the church was overflowing with Filipinos. Force of habit or not, I let God be the judge. Still, it was heartening to see that the Catholic faith was strong in Boracay.

The choir did a fantastic rendition of “The Prayer”.

Is there a middle ground where the well-being of the community will not continue to be compromised in the name of progress?

Ahh, the road to paradise is truly filled with challenges.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

 

Doesn’t it make you feel like
Tryin’ to save the sunlight
Surely you feel the way i do

We’re not gonna last forever
Blue skies and sunny weather
The problem is up to me and you

We shouldn’t be so careless
Think of the things we cherish
Think of them all gone away

                               As Sang by Lani Hall & Herb Albert

xoxoxoxoxoxox

When on vacation, do as the locals do. Feast on seafood and some pork belly. Splash some local vinegar on some chopped tomatoes and onions for a salad.  Slice up sweet mangoes for desert and give your belly a taste of paradise.

 

For most grilled seafood, the only seasoning you need really is salt and pepper. A squeeze of lemon or calamansi is optional. Throw on a hot grill and in 10-15 minutes it’s done. Overcooking makes for a tough fish or shrimp. Besides, no one ever died from eating raw FRESH fish.





Flower Power

Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul. Luther Burbank


Whenever I find myself thinking about a problem, I can’t help but sometimes get deeper and deeper into a bottomless abyss of despair and anxiety. It’s like an addiction of never ending what ifs and whys.

I remember the many times I would knock myself out with worry. Before long my fertile imagination would paint a guesome picture of the worse kind of accident. Then time passes and I marvel at how quickly these worries go “puff”.

Of course, there have been close calls and it would have been unnatural if I did not worry. But it’s dwelling on them far too long that causes havoc to tranquility. And so before I realize that dwelling on a situation is not going to help, I have already died a thousand imaginary deaths.

It’s a good thing that every now and then I get a wake-up call that puts everything into perspective. Sometimes it takes the form of a song, a passage in a novel,  and, sometimes it’s a shared story.

Just yesterday, a friend pulled me aside to share his wake-up call. Let’s call him R.

R is an early riser. At 4AM, he is up and busy sweeping the dry leaves that had fallen in his yard. As he sweeps the leaves into a pile, his mind is preoccupied with a financial problem. What should he do? Who can he ask for help? How will he continue to support family members who depend on him? These questions go round and round in his head as he moved on to water his plants. He is very passionate about his plants but lately, his focus had been on his problem. He was about to enter his house, when his attention was caught by a Trumpet shrub that was in full bloom. The morning sun was shining on it just like a spotlight on a stage actress.

He had been so anxious over his problem that he was losing all hope. He had buried himself in his own misery and had lost sight of the beauty that was around him. With new resolve, he got ready to attend the early morning mass. Then and there R accepted that he had done all he could and was leaving the rest to God. A God who never fails to send us reminders of hope in the form of flowers-- if we care to to take notice.

xoxoxoxoxox

I remember being served deep fried stuffed squash flowers in one of those provincial heritage tours. As I recall, the flowers were stuffed with a mixture of ground pork and shrimps; dunked in a batter; and deep fried. Unfortunately, I don’t have the recipe. But I will not dwell on my limitations.   Instead, I share with you some eye-catching beauties from my garden.

Periwinkle (suppose to cure cancer)



Lantana: a butterfly's delight



My Summer Blooming Lilies

Hibiscus aka Gumamela= a herbal tea

  These are my everyday reminders of hope.

Angels in Disguise

Angel of God, my Guardian dear, to whom His love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.


In a sermon given by Father B at our parish, he relates that he had seen Angels. They are everywhere. But these are not the spiritual Angels mentioned in the Bible. Nor do they take on the shape as painted by the great maestros. No visible wings. No golden halo. Not even in flowing white garments.

These are earthly angels that are with us--  family members , dear friends, those who do services for us and even strangers.  And because their gesture of kindness, generosity and protection are sometimes taken for granted, these angels go unnoticed.

This made me sit up and reflect on my own experience with earthly angels.

One time, I was all sweaty having rushed over to attend mass in a chapel in a depressed area. I could feel perspiration running down my nape. Not having any handkerchief or a paper napkin, I could not wipe the sweat on my brow. I was miserable as I listened to the priest.

Lo and behold, someone tapped my elbow. When I turned, I saw a young boy—about 6 or 7 years old with a roll of toilet paper still intact in its plastic bag. He was offering it to me. At first I did not understand. Until I saw the boy’s mother gestured that it was to wipe my face. The mother must have seen my discomfort and had given orders to her boy to get some tissue on credit at the sari-sari store outside the chapel. From the way the mother dressed, I knew that money was tight. I thanked her profusely for her offer.

She was an angel— in disguise.


Another time, I was in a foreign country with two of my friends. We had enjoyed ourselves immensely taking in the sights and sound that we forgot about the time. When we decided to go back to our hotel, we realized that it had become quite late and the darkness somehow made it difficult for us to figure a safe route back to the hotel. We tried to hail the occasional taxis that passed us but none of them would agree to take us. One rather rumpled taxi driver stopped but only to give us directions on how to walk back to the hotel. We were a sorry sight. But all was not lost, the driver who had earlier given us directions, came back and told us to get into his cab. He would take us to our hotel. At first he was grouchy as he explained that he felt responsible for our safety. He then checked himself and soon became more pleasant as he pointed out interesting landmarks along the way. We arrived safely at our hotel.

He was an angel—in disguise.


And how could I forget that time after a great earthquake rocked Manila. The earthquake happened shortly after lunch. After the shaking stopped, a lot of office workers poured out of their office buildings. I was one of them. For some reason, I remembered that there were no public transportation plying the streets. I remembered walking with a group of strangers determined to find a way home. At that time, there were no celphones; nor did I have a phone at home to call and check on my children. Then out of the blue, after walking more than 5 kilometers, a jeepney stopped and the driver and his companion offered the group a ride closer to our destination.

They were angels—in disguise.


These are but a few stories about the earthly angels I have met.   

Yes, there are angels sent my way-- to guide and to protect me.

But more importantly, I ask myself how often have I missed the chance to be an angel myself.

----------------------------------------

Recently, I had dinner with three of my best friends. They have given me wise counsel on difficult situations; given me comfort when I was feeling low in spirit; and, stood by me when everything seem to be going against me.

They are angels in disguise as well. Their care and concern make them so easy to love.   Just as easy to love is this simple and light dessert I took to our dinner.

Fruits with Almond Jelly

3 cups Assorted fruits, chopped
(banana, apples, seeded grapes, orange slices, papaya)
plus 1 cup sweetened pineapple juice

or

1 large can fruit cocktail (do not drain)
1 package of Almond Jelly (prepare according to instructions, cool and slice into cubes

1 bottle each of kaong and nata de coco (drained of syrup) Optional

Mix all of these ingredients in a bowl. Chill before serving.

Working the Faith

“So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” James 2:17

During the last two months that I have been away from home, I have been steadfast in my habits to say my prayers at certain times of the day:  when I wake up, before meals, and in the early evenings. Religiously, I kept my promise to say the rosary at least once a day.  Attending Sunday masses was top priority.  I have also kept strong my devotion to our Mother of Perpetual Help.

 With so much prayers said, why did I feel as if I was missing out on something?

On my time away from home, I had spent a lot of time with my mother, siblings and friends.  No doubt about it I was happy in their company and in turn delighted that my company, my cooking, my help was very much welcomed.

So what could be missing? I continued to ask myself this question.

When I returned home, I immediately got back to my usual routine: 3 Cs. Cleaning. Cooking. Caring for the needs of my husband and daughter.  Being back home also meant getting back into the swing of things at my parish. Specifically, there was need for time to spend on the monthly mentoring program.  There was much catching up to do.  Because of my recent travels, I have taken a leave from actively participating in the  mentoring program for underprivileged children. In my absence,  I had endorsed the five grade 3 scholars assigned to me to a friend who was also a member of the program.

Finally I am active again. And on the designated 2^nd Sunday of the month, it was time to meet my scholars.  At first, only two of the five were present.  Did my absence cause the other three to drift away from the program? But this thought was quickly replaced with much joy when one by one they joined my little group. My scholars were all present. 

I was excited to give them my pasalubong (gift).  I hoped that it would compensate for my absence.  I got them t-shirts with the Superman logo.  I explained that the t-shirts are to remind them that there was nothing they could not do if they put their mind to it.  

The scholars then got busy with the morning’s program.  In between their coloring activities, I asked them about how they were doing at school and if things were alright with their families.   

My heart was bursting with joy as I renewed connections with each of them. 

As I collected the colored works of the scholars, I understood.  What was missing was putting my faith into practice.  I had to work my faith. 

x o x o x o x o x o x o x

 

Being with my mother, siblings, husband and children do give me great joy.  For I know I have a place in their hearts.   But being with these children, knowing that they have nothing to give back in return, is a joy of a different level.     

x o x o x o x o x o x o x

The mentoring component of my parish’s scholarship program require that members of the committee or mentors to meet with the children on the 2^nd Sunday of each month. This is appropriately called Mentoring Sunday.  For an hour and a half on Mentoring Sunday, working on an agreed agenda, the mentors meet up with their assigned scholars. Four to five scholars are assigned a mentor.  In the course of the school year,  the mentors hope to guide and motivate their scholars to do well in school as well as cultivate Christian values in them.  By doing so, a better future may open up to these children.

A few days prior to Mentoring Sunday, the mentors  meet up to finalize the agenda.  Possible topics for discussion are brought up.  Will there be singing or dancing? Will there be a special project to do? There is no lack of enthusiasm as each mentor bring up one idea after another.  
 

More often than not, there is food to be shared.  In the last meeting, I brought some banana-walnut cupcakes.  Sharing these tiny treats made for a productive ending.  

Banana- Walnut Cupcakes

 

3 very ripe bananas, mashed  (about 1 cup)

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup light brown sugar, lightly packed

1/2 cup vegetable oil

2 extra-large eggs, at room temperature

1/2 T vinegar plus milk to make ½ c sour cream or you can use ½ c yoghurt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Grated zest of 1 orange

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 cup coarsely chopped walnuts (optional)

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Place cupcake paper liners on 2 cupcake pans (12 to a pan).

In the bowl , mix the mashed bananas

 and granulated sugar, and brown sugar until combined. 

Add the oil, eggs, sour cream, vanilla, and orange zest. 

Mix until smooth.

In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, and salt. With care, add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix just until combined.  Ladle the batter into the prepared cupcake pan. At this point, you can sprinkle the chopped nuts on each of the cupcakes.

Bake for 15-20  minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in the pan for 5 minutes, remove to a cooling rack, and cool completely. 

Good and Ready

As I sadly look on at the coffin of my friend’s husband, I wonder how one so young should die so soon.

I am certain that he still had so many things left undone; so many words left unsaid; so many of life’s experience yet to go through. But yet, he is gone. Leaving my friend to take care of their children. Leaving family and friends behind with hardly a warning or a last good-bye.

Why?

For those of us who believe in life after death, I would like to imagine that each one of us was born with a set of spiritual targets that have to be achieved before we are “released” from all earthly anxieties. I would like to think that my friend’s husband had completed the spiritual tasks assigned to him. And only God would know what these tasks were…

There are no words right now that can comfort my friend and her children. But in time, I would like to believe that their sadness will be replaced with the joy of knowing that her husband, and their father, has been released from all worldly concerns-- so very insignificant in the whole scheme of things. He now has a bigger task of watching over them— more closely from a better vintage point.



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Here’s my take, in song form, on what could be a possible basic spiritual target.

Did I fill the World with Love?



In the morning of my life I shall look to the sunrise.
At a moment in my life when the world is new.
And the blessing I shall ask is that God will grant me,
To be brave and strong and true,
And to fill the world with love my whole life through.

(Chorus)
And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love my whole life through



In the noontime of my life I shall look to the sunshine,
At a moment in my life when the sky is blue.
And the blessing I shall ask shall remain unchanging.
To be brave and strong and true,
And to fill the world with love my whole life through

(Chorus)



In the evening of my life I shall look to the sunset,
At a moment in my life when the night is due.
And the question I shall ask only I can answer.
Was I brave and strong and true?
Did I fill the world with love my whole life through?


(Chorus)

Sublime Madness

“Retire?”
“But why? You’re still young.”

This is the reaction I receive to my response to the initial inquiry into my present occupation.

You might say that I am thankful for these remarks. They serve as a reminder and a validation to the reasons behind my action-- one friend recently tagged as “sublime madness”.

These reactions bring to mind, as well, some questions I regularly ask myself. The answers of which are still forming in my head.

Where does the road less travel lead to?
What skill can I still learn or improve on?
Can there ever be too much time spent just sitting, chatting and being with family, friends or just with myself?
What is my spiritual identity?

But one thing I know is that I cannot be grateful enough for the opportunity to immerse myself in this madness while I still have the energy— while I am still “young”.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Excepts from a Barbra Streisand song: “Everything”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MvrY2bn1Jo&feature=related

I want to learn what life is for
I don’t want much, I just want more
Ask what I want and I will sing
I want everything (everything)

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Recently, I attended a bible study that tackled the topic on payer. This was most helpful as it gave me the opportunity to examine the what, how and why I pray and more importantly, gave me time to reflect on the God I pray to.

And although I look forward to the serious discussions that ensue, I also enjoy very much the lighthearted exchanges that take place over pot-luck dishes brought in for the meal that follows afterward.

Below is the recipe for the tuna sandwich I brought. You’ll surely go mad over the delicious take on an old-time favorite.

Classic Tuna Salad
(adapted from Cook’s Illustrated May & June 2001)
Say good-bye to second rate, mushy, watery and bland tuna sandwiches of the past.

2 cans of solid tuna in water
2 T juice from 1 lemon (or calamansi)
½ t salt
¼ t pepper
1 small rib celery, minced (about ¼ c)
2 T minced onion
2 T minced dill or sweet pickles
½ small garlic clove, minced (about 1/8 t)
2 T minced fresh parsley leaves (optional)
½ c mayonnaise
¼ t Dijon mustard



Drain tuna in colander and shred with fingers until no clumps remain and texture is fine and even. Transfer tuna to a medium bowl and mix in the lemon juice, salt, pepper, celery, onion, pickles, garlic and parley until blended.

Fold in mayonnaise and mustard until tuna is evenly moistened.



Can be covered and refrigerated up to 3 days)



Makes about 2 cups, enough for 10 no-frills sandwiches or 4 dressed-up and hearty sandwiches.

Note:
For a more luxurious and dressed-up sandwich, I like serving the spread on slightly toasted walnut wheat bread. If not available, you can toss some chopped walnuts into the tuna salad.
I first butter two pieces of sliced bread. Then I place a nice piece of lettuce leaf on one slice of bread before topping with a scoop of the tuna salad.
For the grand finale, I like to add thinly sliced apples before topping with the other piece of bread.