Jesus and me

i remembered this time when my wife and i were invited to attend one of our daughter's spiritual retreats when she was in high school. she was enrolled in a catholic school near the village we were residing at. this school is very particular about parents involvement in the development of their child's well-being. they make it a point to let parents know what are the school activities that their children go thru including such extra curricular activities as seminars, retreats, etc. this one we were invited to needs participation even from parents. i always make it a point to attend family activities such as this so that at least i may be able to spend some quality time with my wife and kid.

there was the usual socialization with the other parents and the school faculty and the facilitator of the program. i must admit that i really don't expect much since i have attended several other activities in the past that i pretty much know what will happen.

and so, the usual prayer sessions. the usual pep talks and inspirational talks from several facilitators and from the retreat master himself who is a priest. the talks ran much in the same vein as before -- parents and children must have open lines of communication, what the children are learning in school, especially value formation and character building, must coincide with what they are actually experiencing at home. i admit for most of these activities, i kept my eyes closed. i have heard all these before.

then came this period when parents were separated from the children. they spent some time in seclusion with the retreat master. we don't know what happened there. but i do know what happened during the time we spent in our own seclusion with the retreat master. at one point during this activity, the priest asked us parents to evaluate our selves honestly. he requested us to try to look deeply into our own lives and then ask ourselves what we have done with our lives. what we have accomplished, what others things we think needs to be done, for ourselves, for our family, for the country, for the world, etc.

i looked around the room. the other parents were busily writing on the notepads we were given. i looked at my wife. she had her eyes closed at one point in time and then she scribbled something on her paper. she's busy too.

but i? i had nothing to write. my mind was blank. much as i tried hard to think about it, i cannot think of any concrete achievement in my life. house? car? money? material possessions? nope.. nada .. nothing much to be considered achievement ..

i was sad. i had to look away from my wife who was sitting beside me. i don't want her to see this look of shame on my face. and the tears.

i don't know what had happened but my eyes focused on the cross mounted on the retreat master's table. i looked at the figure on the cross. and then i experienced this sudden, soothing feeling. an assurance that all is well. i took a deep breath. the sadness disappeared. the time for submitting the papers was almost up. without hesitation, i grabbed my pen and wrote this prayer on my paper:

for Jesus

i tried to be a poet
i did not become one.
i tried to be a singer
i did not become one.
i tried to be a musician
i did not become one.
i did not aspire for riches
now You're giving me just enough.
i did not aspire for fame
now i'm an unknown.
whatever i am now,
You made me!
as always, there's just one thing
i ask of Thee --
just keep me always
in Thy Holy Company.

thank you, Jesus,
my Lord, My Friend.



i handed the paper to the retreat master.
i felt no guilt. i felt no shame.

the crime scene

i went out early morning two days ago to buy some bread at a nearby bakery. it was rather a chilly morning. there was a slight drizzle. it was about 5 am. the bakery opens early since lots of people flock there to buy their baked bread. still very hot, straight from the oven. but this will not be about bread.

this will be about mother hen.

when i went out of our gate that morning immediately what caught my attention was this brown colored hen. she was wet from the drizzle and she was pacing back and forth on the grassy sidewalk fronting the house opposite ours. her feathers were glistening from the soft rain but she was unmindful of this. she was frantically cluck-clucking. it was not hard to guess that she was calling for maybe one or two of her brood. about five paces from mother hen was this dark coated cat. he was just there, unmoving, sphinx-like. his front paws are crossed one on top of the other. there was something sinister in the way he looked at mother hen. i could not help but be amazed at these two animals i was observing.

mother hen nervously, noisily, pacing back and forth. dark gray cat patiently poised. only the eyes were moving. this is something i greatly admire with cats. the ability to sit poised, unmoving, for long periods of time. it's as if cats have all the time in the world to wait. yet, equally, i have something to admire too, with mother hen, and with all mothers, for that matter -- the ability to sense danger for their loved ones.

all of a sudden, from behind a lump of decaying cut grass on the sidewalk, darted this small, cottony, yellow creature, chirping animatedly towards mother hen. mother hen opened wide one of her wings, her eyes fixed automatically at the direction of the cat. cat's ears were tensed pointedly upwards, his eyes were focused on the little chick. but he never moved. never budged as mother hen enveloped the little one in her wing.

i guess i might have spent a good ten minutes observing these two, but i have to hurry to the bakery. what occupied my mind as i walked away was why i still heard mother hen 's frantic clucking when i already saw that she was able to tuck the little one safely. could it be she's still missing another chick? could it be i had stepped in on a crime scene? what satisfied the cat?

haha ... what weird thoughts for this wet morning.

the scent of freshly baked bread will soon overcome this silliness.

the hidden picture

i accompanied my daughter one time in a park. she was there to shoot some pictures to comply with her photography class assignment. i watched her do her work. a budding photojournalist? well, whatever she chooses to do in life, i advised her that the best formula for success as i found out is to love what you are doing. not just like it, but love it!

we walked along the park. stopping from time to time so she can take pictures. -- the silhouette of a building against the cotton clouds of the grayish sky, a man sleeping soundly in one of the cement benches unmindful that anytime soon it might rain, a passing horse-driven pink colored cart, the balloon vendor so alone in a corner of the park ... i must say i am convinced she loves what she does. i just hope she keeps this love even after graduating from college. i hope this is not just a passing fancy.

" Dad," she said, "if ever you want to take a shot yourself just tell me."

as we passed the portion of the park where there were lots of trees i stopped. "Hand me that camera!" i asked her. she passed it to me and i took a shot.

"But that picture you took were just a clump of trees, Dad!" she protested.

"i didn't photograph the trees," i explained, " i shot the letter A."

she looked at the picture again and smiled. "You're silly, Dad!"

i'm not.

i just love what i do. i just did it in this park.