I Made an Honest Mistake

Posted on May 1, 2010 by

I Made an Honest Mistake

Two days ago, I had an urge to visit ‘Mga Sulating Pilipino’, my blog on WordPress to check on my latest post and to edit if it needed to be. After I clicked the ‘MSP‘ icon on my desktop, to my surprise, an unusual message appeared. My God, my blog was archived/suspended!!!

Mixed feelings crept within me. How come? Why? What WordPress ‘Terms of Service’ have I violated? For almost two years tinkering with this blog, why just now? What will happen to my co-blogger/friends there who brought me a sense of fulfillment? All I want when I started ‘MSP’ is to share whatever I have, technical, memorable experiences, personal perspective of present issues, and many, many more. It is never intended to spread nonsense posts. At my age of almost sixty, have I the guts to post misleading topics? No, considering that some of the co-blogger/friends called me ‘Itay/ Papa’ which made me feel I am worthy of it. Does a father can be called as such when, intead of leading children to a brighter future, teach them to break rules? No…and never!

Even though I can not log in to WordPress, I have managed to access WordPress Terms of Service. I want to say here, I made a mistake but an honest one. Those who followed ‘Mga Sulating Pilipino’ knew that when I use image or quote parts of published items, I see to it that the owner of the item/items are properly acknowledged. When that urge hit me two days ago, what I have in mind is the one I was bothered: my last post. It was entitled ‘Color your Blog’. The violation I committed is on the last part of it. With thoughts I might share what I knew, I placed a link that will show a Javasript program which when clicked will show this:

My mistake? Intead of opening it from your browser, it will be opened on my blog. Did you see the caption that go with the program? I seemed to have claimed the ownership of the program which I do not. Its rightful owner would presume that the owner of the blog where it appeared claimed its ownership. My mistake is, instead of writing down its URL, I made a link out of it! An honest mistake! The truth is, you can use it without setbacks when opened from your browser.

A part of WordPress ‘Terms of Service’ states that:

Scraper blogs: Blogs that take content from other blogs and re-publish it without permission (this is sometimes called scraping). If a blog contains stolen content, it’s gone!

The owner of the program is not just a simple blog, it is a website. I have no right to use it on my blog. In fact, I have been using it personally since I blogged. I do not know if eCritters (the owner of the program) will grant permission to place it on a certain site. I have not tried to. It is my personal reference as to what color to use in my blogs. I regret it but ‘what’s the use of crying over spilled milk’? Due to my carelessness, I lost ‘MSP’. I am very sorry for doing so, eCritters, very, very sorry.

Nevertheless, ‘Mga Sulating Pilipino’, is just one of mine. I have still two, dot coms and one of these is ‘Points to Wonder’. The question: “What will happen to my co-blogger/friends” can be partially answered through this. I can still share my thoughts and at the same time, view theirs. I can still connect to them.

Your question now will be, “Why did you not act immediately so that we know what really happened to “MSP“? My answer: It is hard for me to accept the WordPress verdict at first. I seem to lose my sense of existence. Secondly, since I can not access my ‘MSP’, it took time for me to duplicate the ‘WordPressers’ widget where my Worpresser friends can be accessed.

Lastly, I hope this post will enlighten the readers why ‘MSP’ was suspended from WordPress. I have violated one of WordPress ‘Terms of Service’‘ but, God knows, it was an unintentional one.

Incase you want to use the invaluable eCritter program, here is the link:


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Global Warming

Posted on December 21, 2009 by


Global Warming

It can not be denied that the world in which we live has undergone drastic changes, and the most significant of them is the so-called global warming. Some attributed it to the end of the Mayan long count calendar which will take effect Dececemder 21, 2012, winter solstice of that year. It is said that a global catastrophe will happen on that day. Planet-x (is it the Nibiru of ancient Babylonians?) will collide with our planet. Polar reversion will take place causing floods and earthquake of great magnitude, and many more, (Incidentally, the winter solstice for this year is today, December 21.) Some see it in a biblical point of view saying it is the sign of the wrath as stated in Revelation 6:1-17.
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Whatever it is, one thing is sure. The cause of the changes in our climate is largely caused by excessive greenhouse-gas emissions from highly industrialized countries thus triggering global warming. That is why delegations from 193 nations gathered in Copenhagen last December 7-16 aiming to reach a new global agreement on climate change
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In the late-70′s, I wrote a Filipino poem about environmental pollution. It is entitled ‘ANG KAPALIGIRAN’. You can read it here

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The Filipino is Worth Dying For – Benigno Aquino Jr.

Posted on August 20, 2009 by


The Filipino is Worth Dying For – Benigno Aquino Jr.

Benigno S. Aquino, Jr.
source: Wikipedia
Senator of the Philippines
In office
December 30, 1967 – September 23, 1972
Philippine Presidential Adviser on Defense Affairs
In office
1949–1954
Governor of Tarlac
In office
December 30, 1961 – December 30, 1967
Vice-Governor of Tarlac
In office
December 30, 1959 – December 30, 1961
Mayor of Concepcion, Tarlac
In office
December 30, 1955 – December 30, 1959
Personal details
BornNovember 27, 1932
Concepcion, Tarlac, Philippines
DiedAugust 21, 1983(1983-08-21) (aged 50)
Manila International Airport, Pasay, Metro Manila, Philippines
Resting placeManila Memorial Park, Parañaque, Metro Manila, Philippines
NationalityFilipino
Political partyLiberal (1959-1983)
LABAN (1978-1983)
Other political
affiliations		Nacionalista Party (1955–1959)
Spouse(s)Corazon C. Aquino
ChildrenMa. Elena Aquino-Cruz
Aurora Corazon Aquino-Abellada
Benigno S. Aquino III
Victoria Elisa Aquino-Dee
Kristina Bernadette Aquino-Yap
ResidenceTimes Street, Quezon City
Alma materUniversity of the Philippines
Ateneo de Manila University
San Beda College High School (Class of 1948)
OccupationPolitician
ProfessionJournalist
ReligionRoman Catholic

Here is the last interview with Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino, Jr. right before his untimely death:

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‘fruits of her labor’

Posted on November 9, 2008 by

‘fruits of her labor’


my youngest daughter, Nelly Karen Viktoria

what would you feel if one day your sixth grade daughter will tell you that she was told by their school administrator to write a poem to be submitted as an entry to a national search for young writers? and that it must be written inside the school campus? and that there are only six of them, one in each section (sixth grade)? of course, you would feel very happy…and proud, wouldn’t you?

i felt the same when that happened to me weeks ago. imagine, your youngest daughter in a national competition! i would not feel as great if it is only for the school. i am used to it. my daughter, nikka (nelly karen viktoria), has been a consistent first honor student since she was in the prep until the fifth grade, and hopefully, another one this year. she has lots of medals in extra-curricular fields, too.

the next day after she told me these, i went to immanuel school of davao, the school where she is in and saw this poster in the school’s bulletin board:

the MECHANICS:



Abracadabra Poem Writing Contest


1. The contest is open to all Abracadabra subscribers nationwide.
2. The poetry writing contest is for grades 1 to 6 students.
3. Each student may send only one entry.
4. Writing specifications:
  a. The poem must be an original, unpublished work. Plagiarism would result to disqualification. A letter of authentication from the English teacher or class adviser must be submitted to certify that the entry is an original composition.
     b. The poem must follow the theme of the competition:
“My Contribution to Protect Earth”
   c. The poem should not exceed three stanzas or ten lines.
5. Criteria for judging:
   Originality&Creativity 40%
   Content 40%
   Poetry Mechanics 20%

again, what would you feel if your daughter will tell you that she won second place in a national search for young writers? of course, you would feel happier…and more proud, wouldn’t you?

you guess it right, i felt the same way, too, when she told me so. it is not easy to be chosen from thousands of entries coming from different schools both from public and private nationwide. her entry must be that good at her level!

on the 24th day of last month (october), she surprised us all: my wife, nelly, my daughters gladys and kringkring, and my son, junjun. she brought home from school a box bearing her name and her school’s containing what i called ‘fruits of her labor’. inside the box were assorted books and dictionaries, an expensive digital clock, a beautiful school bag, and a cash gift of three thousand pesos. my heart swelled! and that night, gifts to her came in: an expensive wristwatch from my married eldest daughter, carmeli, who worked as a supervising engineer for ‘pinnacle holdings’ ,owner of ‘nccc chain of supermarts’, cakes from hannah, a long-time friend of my son and from her ‘kuya’ junjun, a beautiful necklace. great, aren’t they?

the ‘fruits of her labor’ inside the box are priceless, no doubt about it – they are not bought, nor solicited but prizes. what made me feel the proudest father in the world though did not came from that box . it was inside an envelope given to her in an unscheduled ceremony in her school by the search sponsor’s representative. this is it:

The winning entry:


The Voice of the Future

by: Nelly Karen Viktoria Rosales

Protect our earth – that is my call
To all people, great or small
In homes where recycling start
And it is up to us to do our part.

Global warming means destruction
Chloroflourocardon causes devastation
Throwing garbage in its place
Marks the beginning of the new race
Of concerned populace united as one
To save the Earth with loads of fun.
.

the search for young creative writers was sponsored by:   

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‘Give Me Love’ by George Harrison

Posted on October 23, 2008 by


‘Give Me Love’ by George Harrison

George Harrison, MBE (25 February 1943 – 29 November 2001) was an English rock musician, guitarist, singer-songwriter, actor and film producer who achieved international fame as lead guitarist of The Beatles. Often referred to as “the quiet Beatle”, Harrison became over time an admirer of Indian mysticism, and introduced it to the other Beatles, as well as those of their Western audience. Following the band’s break-up, he had a successful career as a solo artist and later as part of the Traveling Wilburys, and also as a film and record producer. Harrison is listed at number 21 in Rolling Stone magazine’s list of “100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time”.
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Although most of The Beatles’ songs were written by Lennon and McCartney, Beatle albums generally included one or two of Harrison’s own songs, from With The Beatles onwards. His later compositions with The Beatles include “Here Comes the Sun”, “Something” and “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. By the time of the band’s break-up, Harrison had accumulated a backlog of material, which he then released as the acclaimed and successful triple album All Things Must Pass in 1970, from which came two singles: a double A-side single, “My Sweet Lord” backed with “Isn’t It a Pity”, and “What Is Life”. In addition to his solo work, Harrison co-wrote two hits for Ringo Starr, another former Beatle, as well as songs for the Traveling Wilburys—the supergroup he formed in 1988 with Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, and Roy Orbison.
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Harrison embraced Indian culture and Hinduism in the mid 1960s, and helped expand Western awareness of sitar music and of the Hare Krishna movement. With Ravi Shankar he organised a major charity concert with the 1971 Concert for Bangladesh.
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Besides being a musician, he was also a record producer and co-founder of the production company HandMade Films. In his work as a film producer, he collaborated with people as diverse as the members of Monty Python and Madonna.
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He was married twice, to model Pattie Boyd from 1966 to 1974, and for 23 years to record company secretary Olivia Trinidad Arias, with whom he had one son, Dhani Harrison. He was a close friend of Eric Clapton. He is the only Beatle to have published an autobiography, with I Me Mine in 1980. Harrison died of lung cancer in 2001.
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source:Wikipedia

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Blowin’ in the Wind

Posted on October 11, 2008 by



Blowin’ in the Wind


How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man ?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand ?
Yes, how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they’re forever banned ?
The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.
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Yes, how many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea ?
Yes, how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free ?
Yes, how many times can a man turn his head
Pretending he just doesn’t see ?
The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.
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Yes, how many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky ?
Yes, how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry ?
Yes, how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died ?
The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

- Bob Dylan         



Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan (born Robert Zimmerman, May 24, 1941, in Duluth, Minnesota) is an American singer-songwriter, author, poet, and painter, who has been a major figure in popular music for five decades. Much of Dylan’s most celebrated work dates from the 1960s, when he became an informal chronicler and a reluctant figurehead of American unrest. A number of his songs, such as “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times They Are a-Changin”, became anthems of the civil rights movements. His most recent studio album, Modern Times, released on August 29, 2006, entered the U.S. album chart at number one, and that same year was named Album of the Year by Rolling Stone magazine.
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Dylan’s early lyrics incorporated political, social, philosophical, and literary influences, defying existing pop music conventions and appealing widely to the counterculture. While expanding and personalizing musical styles, he has explored many traditions of American song, from folk, blues and country to gospel, rock and roll and rockabilly to English, Scottish and Irish folk music, and even jazz and swing. Dylan performs with the guitar, piano and harmonica. Backed by a changing line-up of musicians, he has toured steadily since the late 1980s on what has been dubbed the “Never Ending Tour”. Although his accomplishments as performer and recording artist have been central to his career, his songwriting is generally regarded as his greatest contribution.
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During his career, Dylan has won many awards for his songwriting, performing, and recording. His records have earned Grammy, Golden Globe, and Academy Awards, and he has been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame and Songwriters Hall of Fame. He has been nominated several times for the Nobel Prize in Literature. In 2008, he was awarded a Pulitzer Prize Special Citation for his “profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power.”             -Wikipedia

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The Confused History of “Desiderata”

Posted on October 10, 2008 by




The Confused History of “Desiderata”

The author is Max Ehrmann, a poet and lawyer from Terre Haute, Indiana, who lived from 1872 to 1945. It has been reported that Desiderata was inspired by an urge that Ehrmann wrote about in his diary:

“I should like, if I could, to leave a humble gift — a bit of chaste prose that had caught up some noble moods.”
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Around 1959, the Rev. Frederick Kates, the rector of St. Paul’s Church in Baltimore, Maryland, used the poem in a collection of devotional materials he compiled for his congregation. (Some years earlier he had come across a copy of Desiderata.) At the top of the handout was the notation, “Old St. Paul’s Church, Baltimore A.C. 1692.” The church was founded in 1692.
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As the material was handed from one friend to another, the authorship became clouded. Copies with the “Old St. Paul’s Church” notation were printed and distributed liberally in the years that followed. It is perhaps understandable that a later publisher would interpret this notation as meaning that the poem itself was found in Old St. Paul’s Church, dated 1692. This notation no doubt added to the charm and historic appeal of the poem, despite the fact that the actual language in the poem suggests a more modern origin. The poem was popular prose for the “make peace, not war” movement of the 1960s.
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When Adlai Stevenson died in 1965, a guest in his home found a copy of Desiderata near his bedside and discovered that Stevenson had planned to use it in his Christmas cards. The publicity that followed gave widespread fame to the poem as well as the mistaken relationship to St. Paul’s Church.
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As of 1977, the rector of St. Paul’s Church was not amused by the confusion. Having dealt with the confusion “40 times a week for 15 years,” he was sick of it.
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This misinterpretation has only added to the confusion concerning whether or not the poem is in the public domain.
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By the way, Desiderata is Latin for “Things to be Desired.”

source            

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My Life’s Dedication

Posted on April 22, 2008 by


My Life’s Dedication


image lifted from jonnabebeh.multiply.com/
Farmers are much easier to arrest than members of organized crime syndicates.

I wrote this as a man in his later years toiling under the heat of the sun like my father Teofilo (RIP) did in the romantic beauty of the interiors of Cadunan in Mabini Davao del Norte. The place provided me countless ideas enough to fill pages of a modest book. My most meaningful works (to me) are written there like TO YOU MY SON. Its rolling hills with the cool brooks were so fascinating that I promised to myself I will be back there someday to behold its beauty– and perhaps write there– once more. I know Totong Awoman, our neighbor then, will still share his “sinudsoran”. I hope…


My Life’s Dedication

with your love, i am now what I am told
with gray hair i know i have lived so long
i can not repay you with silver nor with gold
only my whole self– and an ardent song

i shall sing to you the song of praise
the song of thanks and of adoration
i shall sing from my heart with bent knees
i shall make you the object of my meditation

for the life in the fields, the murmur of brooks
the peace in the sky, the love in the breeze
the beauty in flowers, the care from the folks
i shall gaily sing for them a lively song of praise

for the seas and hills, the valleys and plain
for every drop of rain that all-year round you bring
for the rays of the sun that shine on the grains
a sincere song of thanks i shall joyfully sing

for every hope and inspiration your beauty yield
for every morn broken, for every flower borne
for every dream fulfilled with your bountiful field
i shall sing for you the solemn adoration song

when lightning strike and quake mightily shake
when storm furiously blow and thunder angrily roar
when fear and confusion will stir the minds of the weak
i shall comfort them– they are whom i lived for

when there will be droughts and your brooks will run dry
when the fields crack and the shady trees’ leaves fall
when the sun will ceaselessly burn in the sky
i shall shed my tears to refresh your thirsty soul

when there will be floods and your treasure be drifted away
when the birds shiver and the flowers lose their charm
when the rain will continue to pour all day
i shall offer my breast to make your cold heart warm

i know i have but a single life to live
it maybe filled with joy more than a heart could bear
still, this blissful life i shall willingly give
for you, the the edge of grave i shall never fear

i know i have a lone death to die
it maybe filled with blood and strife and pain
still, i shall take that death without a sigh
what i lose for you will be counted as my gain

the sharp claws of death can do me no harm
its fangs may pierce me like a double-edged knife
i maybe torn to pieces but my heart shall remain warm
to serve just you till the last speck of my life

the wide mouth of death can swallow me not
dust and ashes i may become in my final rest
tho’ the wear of time will make the mortal in me rot
i know somewhere in your heart i shall forever exist!

by doroastig
mid-’77
Cadunan, Mabini, Davao del Norte, Phil



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To You My Son
avatar

Posted on April 7, 2008 by


To You My Son


my son, Jose Caezar Isidoro

This one was written when I was 26 and still a bachelor in the interiors of Cadunan in Mabini, Davao del Norte then (now Comval Province). My father, Teofilo (RIP), used to have a farm there, alongside Totong Awoman’s. I pictured myself speaking words of wisdom to a handsome son.

Five years later, I got married to Nelly Decena of Sasa, Davao City and was blessed with five beautiful children– four girls but only one boy. If I knew beforehand that this would be, I should have entitled this “TO YOU MY SONS“.


To You My Son

you can fruitfully live a life, son
it is not hard tho’ at first it seems
all you have to do is to follow the plan
to get for yourself the immortal gems

you must make yourself firm and strong
stick to what the gray-headed folks said
on all your ways you’ll never get wrong
as you search for the treasure time laid

many have tried but failed to find
for they search for it in far-away lands
nowhere can be found is the treasure sign
for it is just inside our hearts, my son

faithfully till your heart’s fertile farms
sow on it only righteous and aged seeds
care for them with soily but unstained arms
they will yield fruits more than your needs

don’t let droughts loosen your faith
nor scanty harvests diminish your hope
stay firm and strong– do not quit
do not let your broad shoulders droop

listen to the songs sung by your folks
observe the skillful dances they do
they are life’s crystal-clear brooks
reflecting images so clear and so true

boast not you can break a bar of steel
tho’ it’s true only youthful shoulders can
but in the face of life’s spinning wheel
mightier is the gray head of an old man

boast not you can tame a bull so wild
yes, only strong arms can break its horns apart
but in the minds whose thoughts are not of a child
stronger is he who can tame his own heart

fear not the thorny stick time sometimes whip
just be yourself, leave its wounds as they bleed
bear with the pain tho’ within your spirit they creep
to endure with it, strong faith is all you need

fear not the violence of life’s deceitful wars
fight back for the right, be strong, be brave
fight unto mortal death tho’ you be filled with scars
real life emanates from a righteous man’s grave !

by doroastig
mid-’77
Cadunan, Mabini, Davao del Norte, Phil

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The Son…The Father…Me

Posted on April 7, 2008 by

The Son…The Father…Me

sometime in the mid-60′s…on the hilly side of a remote barrio Bongabong, in Pantukan, Davao…around 5:00 a.m…
    “This is radio station DXAW now signing on. This station is owned and operated by Auto Broadcasting System (now ABS-CBN) and transmitting at 640 kilocycles…” the Avegon transistor radio blared in the early summer morning.
    A door of a small house has opened. The father, Teofilo (RIP), has sharpened his grasshawk while his carabao has just started to nibble the young kumpay grass. The smell of burning kerosene from the “abohan“ (cooking place) suggested that the mother, Isidora (RIP), had risen too. The son, about twelve, was unaware of what was going on. He was still in his deep sleep.
    As expected, “Pagmata na diha, oi. Buntag na!” (Hey, wake up there. It’s already morning!), the father said.
    After a while, the son hesitantly obeyed. After he rubbed his face with his bare hands, he headed towards the small, wood framed mirror to comb his long hair, Beatles style. The father’s Tugaris wristwatch displayed 5:10 a.m. He then tuned the radio to DXMM to listen to his favorite songs. “Constantly” by Cliff Richard. “There’s Always Me” by Elvis, but most of all, to the Beatles. He has seen them on Song Cavalcade, a songbook called songhits. To him, they were the best. The father’s advise not to sport long hair was ignored. His big but flat nose did not match to his hair, unlike the real Beatles’.
    The father though, did not fail to instill to the son’s mind the rewards of hard work. Of perseverance. Of self-reliance. Of trustworthiness. Of diligence. And many more. He did these not just by words but also by acts. He was a man of few words. He showed strong character not only during plentiful harvests but also on scarce seasons.

    …and yes, the importance of education. In one occasion, the son joked about the father’s ability to write clearly. It was election time. Marcos/Lopez vs. Macapagal/Pelaez for the presidential race. The father have chosen Marcos/Lopez and practiced what he would write in the ballot. The “c” in Marcos was not bent well. The “L” in Lopez looked like a “B”. The son called him Marios Bopez. The father just laughed and said, “Do not follow me. Study hard until you finish. I will work harder to support your studies.”

present time…in the city… early morning…
    The telephone rings. The father answers. It is an early call from Mila Cabiliza, the procurement officer from Tagum City-based DANECO, an electric cooperative supplying electricity to three provinces and two cities. She asks if their ordered goods are ready for pick up. The firm has been his regular client for years.
    The father have already packed them up the night before. It took him only four days to fabricate the goods. His shop is neat and tidy. The tools are in their proper places.The twenty five-year old son, Junjun, is still sleeping. the father does not want to wake him up. He knows his son is working overtime for his programs. The father’s dreams for him are now a reality. The son finished his studies and is now working for a foreign company. Home-based, through the internet. In fact, he has been maintaining a website he himself created.
    Did the father effectively instill to his son’s mind the rewards of hard work? Of perseverance? Of self-reliance? Of trustworthiness? Did he show it not only in words but also in deeds? Did he displayed a strong character to his son?
    Maybe yes. The son followed what the father wants him to. He never had any tattoos– no body piercing in any manner. He does not smoke. He sticks to only one girl for almost five years. He works diligently.
    A good son? Sure!
    A good father? Maybe.

are there similarities between the two settings?
    Obvious. Both have fathers. Both have sons. The fathers wake up earlier than the sons. They both taught their sons moral values not just by words but by deeds as well. They showed to their sons strength in character.
    Why are they similar? It is but natural, an age-old fact. What a father teaches to his son will also be taught by the same son to his own. The son in the mid 60’s and the father at present time is one and the same– and that is me. I have been raised by my father with moral values, so I have to, too, to my son.
    My only regret is that my father’s dreams for me did not all come true. While my son finished his studies, I have not!
    Still, I am a happy and fulfilled father to my son!

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The Passion of Christ

Posted on March 21, 2008 by



The Passion of Christ

Today is the 21st day of March, 2008, Good Friday. On my DVD player, I’ve just watched The Passion of the Christ, a movie directed by Mel Gibson and starring Jim Caviezel. I exactly don’t know how many times i have seen this, maybe 10, or maybe more, but i haven’t yet understood the real story. That Jesus was betrayed by Judas, yes. That He was scourged and crucified for this betrayal, yes. That He died and resurrected, yes. The plot is clear. The sequences are in order.

Still, something is missing. What it is, I really don’t know. Maybe I will watch it again, and again, to grasp it.

I remember when i was on the third grade. I was then 10 years old. The school was Bongabong Elementary, a public school located in barrio Bongabong, town of Pantukan. At that time, it would took about two-and-a-half hours bus ride from Davao City (in the southern part of the Philippines) to reach there. We were taught RELIGION by Mrs. Apolonia de la Cerna. The Seven Capital Sins, The Seven Corporal and The Seven Spiritual Works of Mercy…and many more which I have already forgotten. She also taught us prayers and The Holy Rosary.

I studied well. When the year ended, I topped in my class. As part of the commencement exercises, I was to recite a short poem probably written by her. The title was The Passion of Christ. I can still remember it went this way:


The Passion of Christ

Jesus hanging on the cross
Tell me is it I?
There are teardrops in your eyes
Did I make you cry?

I have been a naughty child
As naughty as can be
Now I am very sorry, Lord
Won’t you pardon me?

When I recited this in front of the parents, I never knew what was the real message it brought. What was only clear were the words I uttered.

But that was then– many years ago. Looking back at it, I now fully comprehend the message. Clearly. Distinctly. A very short poem takes time to be completely understood because the words used may bear different meanings.

To understand the passion of our Lord? It will take a much longer time, sometimes a lifetime, sometimes never in a lifetime. The lesson we can learn from the DVD is a very small part of the whole. It is only a droplet compared to an ocean. Even thousands of DVDs could not complete it.

How can one grasp the lesson? The meaning? I am not an authority on this, neither will I try to illustrate things to achieve the answer. I may mislead others which I don’t want to. As I have said, I myself missed the answer. All what we can do is to keep on searching for it in an untiring way asking for Divine Intervention. Who knows, it might be just around the bend.

May we find the answer sooner!

Have a blessed Good Friday!

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The Gift

Posted on March 12, 2008 by



The Gift

I started this blog with thoughts that my first grandson will see the first light of this wonderful world on this day based on the pregnancy test of my eldest daughter, Carmeli. If he will be born today, I asked myself what would be my gift to him, a bank account? I could not, considering the present situation. I have still three students to support. A college education plan? Still i could not. Maybe a toy car…a toy airplane…a toy gun. These i surely could.These are temporal in nature – they will wear away with time. Yes, they can give him joy but while he is still young. Have you seen a 15-year old still playing with his toy car? with his toy gun? with his toy airplane? Very rare. I don’t want him to be one of them, i promise.

What can I give to him that will last for along time- maybe a lifetime? A gift that he will cherish even after I fade away from this world? I’m not a San Miguel stockholder, nor in PLDT. Neither I’m a Cojuangco.

Maybe I will teach him karate but what is it for? For fame? For fighting which i don’t want him to? I myself knew it but not a single instance i have used it except in tournaments. As i am a peace-loving man, I want him to be so, too. Ahh, peace-loving.

Now i know. i am now sure what will be my gift to him. LOVE ! Yes, love. This will be my gift for him- a special one.Because he himself is a special gift to me, I will be giving him love, love and love. Am i over-acting ? Maybe. Call me what you want.

I will be giving love to him everyday because in love nothing is impossible, isn’t it? Love will teach him everything, from A to Z’s in life. It is the basis of success. I want him to be successful, and who is not to his grandson?

Just now , 8:35am/12Mar’08, I received a call from my wife, Nelly, that he is now borne! THANK YOU LORD! ! ! YOU have just given me my first grandson! I promise i will give him happiness as YOU gave me mine.

His name will be LORENZO ‘Enzo’ IMMANUEL ROSALES PEPITO. Remember this name. He will be successful in all his fields of endeavor. His father, my manugang, Joniel and his mother, my daughter, Carmeli, will be proud of him. And surely I and my wife, Nelly, my only son Junjun, my daughters Gladys, Kringkring and Nikka will be proud of him, too.

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