OfnRain ... Friends ... Family ... and Pure Happiness ...

Yesterday ...

It rained so hard we didn't have anywhere else to go but inside the cultural hall. 

Lightning and thunder roared loudly outside. A few of the kids found delight in it. Some attempted to get themselves wet in the rain. 

But not Andrie. He hugged his Mama tight. 

So finally we decided to get inside the hall, otherwise we'd get ourselves soaked wet.

The cultural hall was like heaven ... bright lights, clean floors, and it was dry!

So in we went, like cattle finally finding refuge from heavily pouring rain.

Inside the cultural hall, the primary kids were there -


ages ranging from less than 1 year to 11 (they had an activity the whole afternoon);

the RS sisters were there (we had an activity);

the youth were there (they too, had activities);

 the Primary leaders were there (they just finished their leadership meeting);

the men adult leaders were there (some presided over meetings earlier in the afternoon, the others nanglimpyo sila sa chapel with the YM) ...

But here's the catch: we all were talking at the same time!

And to top that, the young children were all shouting.




After a few minutes, someone started to cry ...


It was either Handsome Ecko or Quick Smart Andrei ...

Mikki and Lalai were laughing together with Josh and Alecs and Jay and Ether and Drian and Arjun ...

Children were RUNNING AROUND everywhere... going that way, or this way, or round and round and round...

Then add to that some more the youth playing badminton in the middle of the hall ...

O'neil, Dave, and other young men were practicing dance moves in one corner ...


Zsanine was seated with other young women watching everything ...

On the far end, on the stage, a few young men and a number of leaders were playing table tennis ...

Yes, there was noise ... even too much noise! 

What with all the crying Ecko and Andrei did when they were fighting - first- for the shuttle cock;

and then later on for the ball ... 3rd and fourth and fifth ... for the same reasons, over and over again ... and again hahaha!

WHAT AN AWESOME SATURDAY THAT WAS FOR ALL OF US ! ♥

Silently, as i looked, listened, and took everything in, I came to appreciate what it really meant to belong ... ♥♥♥

to have friends ... ♥♥♥

the challenges, the pains, but most of all - JOY - of having children and Motherhood... ♥♥♥

the beauty of church service ...

The privilege of serving in the church ...

I looked at Dottie, and Goldy, and Jen ...

at Mikmic, and Omega, and Neneng

How grateful I am to have sisters in the church -  friends to talk to and laugh with ♥♥

I looked at all the children present ...

I looked at my own kids: Myco who was having fun taking pictures ...

Ella who was guiding Mikki and the other primary children ...

April who just finished a full day of practice with her church and school friends ...

Sarah who just came in with her Dad ...

Romelson who was with the other young men ...

Then I looked at Joel and Carlo

and Bishop Sacay ...  

and finally, at Romel ...

I smiled and said a silent prayer ...

Grateful that we have a Heavenly Father who really loves us ...

He ... ever so mindful ... forgiving ...

and I thanked Him for good friends to grow with in this life ♥♥♥ 

The Smell of Rain

At  the end of this story, it gives you two options. I think you will figure  out what option I chose.

******************************************************************************

A  cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor  walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still  groggy from surgery.

Her  husband, David , held her hand as they braced  themselves  for the latest  news. That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had  forced  Diana, only  24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency  Cesarean to  deliver couple's new daughter, Dana  Lu Blessing.

 At 12 inches  long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was  perilously premature..

Still, the  doctor's soft words dropped like bombs.

'I  don't think she's going to make it,' he said, as kindly as he could. 

'There's  only a 10-percent chance she will live through the  night, and even  then, if by some slim chance she does make  it, her future  could be a very cruel one'


Numb  with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the  devastating problems Dana would likely face if she  survived.



She would  never walk, she would never talk, she would  probably be  blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions  from cerebral palsy to  complete mental  retardation, and on and on.

'No! No!'  was all Diana could say.

She and  David , with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they  would have a daughter to become a family of four.

Now, within  a matter of hours, that dream  was slipping  away

But  as those first days passed, a new agony set in for  David and Diana.  Because Dana 's underdeveloped nervous system was  essentially  'raw', the lightest kiss or caress only  intensified her  discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against  their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as  Dana  struggled  alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was  to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew  stronger.

But  as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce  of  weight  here and an ounce of strength there.
  At  last, when Dana turned two months old. her parents were able to hold her  in their arms for the very first time. 
 And  two  months later, though doctors continued to gently  but  grimly  warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal  life, were next to zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her  mother had predicted.
Five  years later, when Dana was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering  gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life.

She  showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or  physical  impairment. Simply, she was everything a little  girl  can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her  story.

One  blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near  her  home  in Irving , Texas , Dana was sitting in her mother's  lap  in  the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin's baseball  team was practicing.

As always, Dana was chattering nonstop  with her mother and several other   adults  sitting nearby, when she suddenly fell  silent . Hugging  her arms across her chest, little Dana asked,  'Do  you smell that?'  Smelling  the air and detecting the approach of a  thunderstorm,  Diana replied, 'Yes, it smells like rain.'

Dana closed her  eyes and again asked, 'Do you smell that?'

Once  again, her mother replied,  'Yes,  I think we're about to get wet. It smells like rain.'

Still  caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with  her small hands and loudly announced,

'No, it smells like  Him.   It  smells like God when you lay your head on His chest.'

Tears  blurred Diana's eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other  children.

Before the rains came, her daughter's words  confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family  had known, at least in their hearts, all along.

During  those long days and nights of her first two  months  of  her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them  to  touch  her, God was holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that she  remembers so well.

Mama's Lullabys ...

Looking back and remembering every word and every melody, I can not help but feel gratitude for this wonderful gift my Mama has given me. 

I have sang these melodies to all my five children, to my nephews and nieces, to my friends' children when I was taking care of them, and now, absurd as it may seem, even to our pet dog Nessie ♥

Here's one simple song that I will forever remember and treasure.

A word though ... I do not really know where my Mama got these songs, or the other lullaby's she sang to us, but surely, whenever she sang or hummed them to my sisters Charry and Carla then, my eyes would close because of the feeling it brought to my heart.

"Ang Batang Buotan"

Ang batang buotan,

Garbo sa ginikanan

Sa sugo sila motuman

sa walay langan langan.

Dili maghilak

og dili magmanya

ang batang buotan

palangga sa ginikanan.

The words can be replaced ... to make it more fitting,  i guess.

For instance, way back then I would, at times, change "ginikanan" with "Mommy" (because that's what my children call me) ...

When the kids were young, Romel also sang the lullaby ... he changed 'Ginikanan" with "Daddy" ...

Funny because I didn't really realize that he knew the song. I now realize that by hearing me sing it then, he became familiar with the songs.

Here's another one:

"Rosas sa Hardin"

May rosas sa hardin,

gitanum ni Quintin;

makawagtang sa kalaay,

sa dughan maglipay.

Ang iyang katahum,

wala nay makatupong;

maanindot, maanindot

sa kanunay.

Of all the lullaby's though, the one I remember the most is Dandansoy.

I remember very vividly, every time Mama would sing it to my younger sister Charry, Charry would cry ...

Maybe because the song is about leaving someone behind. Maybe in Charry's mind then, Mama was literally saying goodbye, hence the tears (would you believe as I am writing this and recalling the words/lyrics, I too am crying?).

"Dandansoy"

Dandansoy, biyaan ko ikaw.

Pauli ako sa Payaw.

Kun galing, ikaw hidlawon,

ang Payaw, imo lang lantawon.

(I am not really sure if the lyrics are correct, but that is how I remember the song ...)

Last but not the least of Mama's lullabys is the song composed by Tito Vic Barreto entitled Kudyapi.
Mama used to sing this when she was still with PANAMIN.
The words may not be perfect, but still, it's how I remember it.

"Kudyapi"

Give me my kudyapi,

for I will sing a song;

for my beloved Bukidnon,

where life begins, and ends for us.

Give me my saluray,

for I will play a tune;

for my beloved Bukidnon,

who cares and lives for us.

Music beats deep within my heart,

the call of birds and falling rains;

the sound of living forest,

becomes a melody.

Come now my dearest one,

rest and forget your fears;

for my beloved Bukidnon,

.... (now I have forgotten the last part ... )

Oh the beauty and blessing of parenthood!

Though it's so unfortunate that there's no formal school for parenthood,

and that we only "learn the ropes" as we go-

Suffice it to say that with all the heartaches and pains and hard work involved;

Bearing and rearing children is still the most rewarding of all the undertaking there is in the world.

To Mama, thank you very much!
We live so close but we seldom see each other. This makes me so sad.
Work and family duties keep me on my toes most of the time, and so mostly, when I miss you, I just think of you and sing your songs ... and of course send you a text message or two.
I love you Ma, and I know no amount of words will be enough to make you feel how much I truly do.
I LOVE YOU ♥♥♥

And so even now, when my children are grown up and they don't really need me to sing to them anymore,
I still sing these lullabys to them ... to remind me of so many wonderful things in my childhood -
the warmth of my Mama's embrace ... the feeling of safety and security .. of being loved ...
My hope is to pass on to them something that is of great worth -
for soon they too will become mothers, and Romelson a father.
I sincerely hope when that time comes, as they hold close their children, they will remember me ... and what I taught them.

More importantly, they will remember how much I love them. ♥

Grandfather's Table and the Wooden Bowl

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in- law, and four-year old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table, but the elderly grandfather’ s shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.

The son and daughter-in- law became irritated with the mess. “We must do something about Grandfather, ” said the son. “I’ve had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.” Therefore, the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.

There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.

Since grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.

When the family glanced in Grandfather’ s direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, “What are you making?”

Just as sweetly, the boy responded, “Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.” The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.

The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.

That evening the husband took Grandfather’ s hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days, he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

———————————————————————

Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever observe, their ears ever listen, and their minds ever process the messages they absorb.

If they see us patiently, provide a happy home atmosphere for family members, they will imitate that attitude for the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes that every day the building blocks are being laid for the child’s future. Let us be wise builders and role models.

The Art of Marriage ♥

Happiness in marriage is not something that just happens.

A good marriage is something that needs working on.

In the art of marriage, the little things are the BIG THINGS...

Like ...



It is never being too old to hold hands ...

It is remembering to say "I love you," at least once a day.

It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family.

It is at no time taking the other side for granted; the courtship shouldn't end with the honeymoon, it should continue through all the years.

It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy.

It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways.

It is not expecting the husband to wear a halo or the wife to have wings like an angel. 

It is not looking for perfection in each other. 

It is cultivating flexibility, patience, understanding, and a sense of humor.

It is giving each other an atmosphere in which both can grow to become their best selves.

It is finding room for the things of the spirit, a common search for the good and the beautiful.

It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.

It is not marrying the right partner, it is being the right partner.

It is discovering what marriage can be ...

at its best ...


As expressed in the words of Mark Twain 

used in the tribute to his wife: 

"Wherever she was, there was Eden."

~~Wilfred A. Peterson~~

What Do We Value the Most?

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday."

Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

"Jack, did you hear me?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him, he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.

"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said.

"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important. Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture... Jack stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Jack?" his mom asked.

"The box is gone," he said.

"What box?" Mom asked.

"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. "Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day, Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package.

There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filled his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser."

"The thing he valued most...was...my time." Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days.

"Why?" Janet, his assistant, asked.

"I need some time to spend with my son," Jack said. "Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!"

~Author Unknown~

While You Can ...

Here's something worth reading ... I hope this will touch your life as it did mine ;D


When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.


Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. “I want a divorce...” I raised the topic calmly.


She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, “why?”


I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, “You are not a man!” That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Dew. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!


With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.


She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Dew so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.


The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Dew.


When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.


In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce.
She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.


This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.


She requested that everyday for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning... I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.


I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions.... She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully...


My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don't tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.


On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time... I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.


On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.


On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Dew about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.


She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.


Suddenly it hit me... she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.


Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mum out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.


But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy.


I drove to office.... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind...I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I do not want the divorce anymore.


She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead... Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other any more. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until deaths do us apart.


Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.


At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.


That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run upstairs, only to find my wife in bed - dead.

The small details of your lives are what really matters in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, nor the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive to happiness. But they cannot give happiness in themselves.

So find time to be your spouse's friend. Start now to do those little things for each other that will build intimacy.

Work to make your marriage eternal. For families can be together forever.

Happy Mother's Day ♥

A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall
upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who
rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around
us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and
counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return
to our hearts. 

~Washington Irving~

♥♥♥ Happy Mother's Day! ♥♥♥