Shoe-ba-da, Tiddy, etc.

Swiish...thud!

That must be what a flying shoe sounds like. During our high school homecoming finale number, while we were singing and dancing to the "Sha ba da, pa pa rap pa ra pa ra...." in Leah Navarro's Ligaw Tingin song, a shoe flew...and it was caught on video! This "SHOE-ba-da" has become my favorite part of the program (well...second to my "front act" for Mercy's solo, of course)!

"Tiddy." My almost two-year old niece, Isabel, calls Mr. Bean's teddy bear "Tiddy.". My sister corrects her, "Its Teddy." Isabel insists it's "Tiddy." And so they go "Teddy, anak!" "Tiddy!" "Teddy!" "Tiddyyyyy". Of course, "Tiddy" wins.

Isabel is fast learning to say what she wants. One time, her mom asked her if she wanted to go with us on a short to drive to Edsa Shangri-la. She said after careful consideration, "Iwan". As we were about to leave, she changed her mind, ran after us and squealed, "Wait me! Wait me! Wait meee!". Need I translate?

The "Shoe-ba-da", "Tiddy" and "Wait me" moments are just a few of the recent deposits I've made in my funny deposit account. I've got tons of funny deposits made and whenever I feel down and in need of cheering, I dig in and withdraw from this account to give me a lift and boost my spirits up.

My "Simple Joys" journal has also become a major deposit account. When I find myself wanting, when life's little challenges suddenly seem big and overwhelming, when I fear "L" knocking at my door ("L"oneliness)...I turn to my Simple Joys journal and go through my deposits and I'm transported to a land of blessings and smiles and laughter.

When problems seem to take over, I take a moment of prayer and look back on the many deposits in my funny and simple joys accounts. I am once again reminded that my problems are a pittance, that God has got my back covered, that I am infinitely and abundantly blessed...more blessed than I ever deserve to be.

Have you stocked up on your funny and simple joys accounts?

on the NPC anniversary

Remember the Hotdog’s hit song ‘Manila’? “Manila, I keep coming back to Manila. Simply no place like Manila… I walked the streets of San Francisco, I've tried the rides in Disneyland… Somehow I feel like I don't belong…”

Well, I just realized that that song personifies the story of my relationship with NPC - I just keep coming back to it. I did try out the private corporate world for a few years, but I ended up back in NPC. Some years ago, I was shipped out, literally, to the US of A by my mom in the hopes (her hopes) of finding myself a “papa.” But all I got was a couple of offers from companies vying for my services (instead of a couple of guys vying for my heart - sigh). But - you guessed it - I found myself back in NPC.

I wondered out loud to friends this “I-keep-coming-back-to-NPC” fashion I seem to have developed for myself and a friend reminded and quoted back to me a lesson I had learned and shared: “I am exactly where I am supposed to be.”

After all that’s been said and done, I have come to realize that NPC has been good to me. Never mind the office politics. Never mind the MBA (may-backer-ako) system that seem to be prevalent everywhere anyway. Never mind the oftentimes confusing structure and system. Never mind the frustrations. It was here where I met some wonderful friends and mentors. It was here where work and life lessons were learned. It was the long tedious hours of work in NPC that had become my refuge when I suffered a devastating loss. NPC has been good to me.

Last November 3, NPC marked its 74th Anniversary. The weeklong celebration was the simplest NPC employees had seen or experienced. “Banderitas”and “tiangge” booths that usually adorned the office grounds during its anniversaries signaling a festive mood were nowhere to be found. Employees bemoaned the absence of bonuses. Many found the calendar of anniversary activities lacking excitement and thrill. Amidst the grumbles and the gripes, however, I found myself enjoying and feeling blessed for being part of the festivities.

I always say, “start any activity right – start it with a prayer.” And the anniversary couldn’t have kicked off more right than with a Thanksgiving and Healing Mass that was poignant and assuaging.

The 4 K Fun Run and Aero-Dance were other activities that highlighted the celebration. I was registered and suited up to join the Fun Run. But as soon as the sports official hollered "Go!", I decided to join the Aero-Dance. It was a blast! I simply looooved it. It wasn’t as punishing as the fun run but it was just as fun. I did get tired…from laughing! My cheeks hurt from laughing as I watched my boss do her own version of the dance moves. Now that she’s decided to join the regular dance workouts during Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I’ve also decided to join if only to watch her do her stuff.

The Fun Olympics was another activity I wouldn’t have missed particularly the “Umbrella-Tissue” relay. Everyone rolled in laughter as players of our group executed the game with "parental guidance" moves. I wish this was caught on video…it would have created a wave on Youtube.

Another activity I truly enjoyed (surprisingly) was the anniversary party/program. It had very little, if at all, dragging or boring moments (again, surprisingly). The band seemed to have upped their level a tinee bit as they restructured their repertoire. I danced my heart out, not on the designated dance floor, but by my lonesome on a mini-dance area by the bleachers I created for myself where I danced like a total fool (nothing new). I simply didn’t care…I was having fun!

And of course, my favorite part of the program was…drum roll please….the Footloose number by Mr. "Wiling Willie" Dolatre! Need I say more?

Cash and stuff were also raffled off during the party. And though I didn’t win a single thing, I feel blessed enough as Noel, my BBF (Boy-Best-Friend, a label he himself coined and tagged) won the personal refrigerator.

Maybe its this “simple joys”attitude I’ve recently adopted that made all these seemingly simple activities fun and blessing filled; or maybe I’m just a shallow and easy-to-please person; or maybe, the anniversary activities, simple they may be, were really fun and exciting after all.

Next year would mark NPC’s Diamond Anniversary. I may not be around NPC to celebrate such a momentous event. Or maybe, as many are wondering, NPC might no longer be. No matter where the road leads, both for NPC and for myself, I am grateful for the years with NPC.

Thank you, NPC!

Chapel of the Lilies (SMC Chapel)

Ahhhhh….The SMC Chapel…a dwelling for worship; a tranquil place for prayer and meditation. And other bucketful of memories - first communion, holy masses, Sacrament of Penance, song practices, hours of prayers. We Stellans did all that in this chapel. And more actually… I remember dozing off here…sorry! Was I the only one? It was during those hours of prayers that we used to hold.

One time during those moments of silent prayers, I remember the teachers made us seat two people apart; so there were just three students seating per pew. We were too far apart for anyone to poke me or slap me in case you-know-what. Since I knew my tendency to nap (I wasn’t called MADI for nothing - Madi as in madikit-lang-ang-likod-tulog-na) I devised a strategy that would either keep me awake or keep the teacher from noticing me if I dozed off. I held my head real high and tight, almost tilting to the back while we said our prayers. I thought this would keep my head from falling forward in case I did fall asleep. It worked! My head didn’t fall forward as I dozed off. Instead, as I opened my eyes, I found myself looking up at the ceiling and a clean chandelier and asking myself how the nuns get to clean them. Oh well…I’m counting on God’s mercy to cut me some slack during such times (I am, after all, called Madi).

What a Homecoming

Picture this - 30 round tables, each set for 8, covered in white cloth and adorned with white flower arrangements; chairs covered up in shiny white silk wrapped with dainty ribbons, some in pink, others in silver and several in blue, the colors both for distinction and design. The small concrete stage at the left side of the area was used to set the buffet table. A stage at the front with a triple-layer backdrop was custom-built just for the occasion. Lights of various colors and hues danced and bounced on the stage and walls heralding a festive mood. Around 300 people - mostly women - gathered, talking non-stop, loud and animatedly with each other. One can just imagine the decibels humming and buzzing about. The excitement was almost tangible.

A transformation had taken place at the Stella Maris covered basketball court. The occasion: the SMC Grand Alumni Homecoming - the Silver Jubilee of Batch '85.

After the Holy Mass at the SMC Chapel (Chapel of Lilies) that marked the onset of the celebration, jubilarians, teachers, nuns and guests trooped towards the covered court that had undergone a make over. The stage was all set. The silver jubilarians gathered backstage to change into costumes, dab on some make-up and utter a short prayer before call time. Lights dimmed and everyone hushed. The lone spotlight centered on stage as the National Anthem and the SMC Alma Mater Hymn were sang by the SMC Glee Club.

Then, the party began! The Silver Jubilarians opened the show and swayed their booties to a medley of the 80's dance hits. The dance was one of the most applauded and cheered, if I may say so! The gels were fantastic (well, I may be bit biased here)! It had set the tone of fun and party-fever for the night.

Batches '60, '75 and '86 showed their stuff as well. They sang and danced to a medley of oldies and current pop hits.

One of the main draws of the evening was the tribute given to our grade school and high school teachers and mentors. The tribute took a long time in coming. It was a poignant moment as our batch, represented by the Falling Tears, gave fond and sometimes funny recollections of how our teachers taught and touched us. The tribute was highlighted by a prayer said by the FTs and The Prayer (with Tagalog verses) sang by Anthony Castelo. Everybody was moved to tears by the tribute.

To steer the celebration back to its party mood, Anthony Castelo (I don't know why it feels weird to call him just Anthony) sang Sumayaw Sumunod. The teachers, even the nuns, couldn't help but leave their usual demure selves and danced to the tune! Anthony (there, I said it) partnered with Direk Karen who brought the house down! Karen danced gracefully and was at the same time "nagwawala" (hmmm...seems to be a contradiction in terms)! Everybody was up and dancing and was just plain having fun! (see all those exclamation points?)

The much-anticipated (by the performers) finale was an OPM medley of 80's hits followed by an original Tagalog song, "Stellang Pinakamamahal", with lyrics by Mercy and melody and arrangements by the Nonong Pedero. The jubilarians were vibrant as they wore their colorful shirts topped with a silver poncho elegantly designed and made by Emelyn. Everybody simply enjoyed their performances and was great at it.

Although the original song had a light and catchy tune to it, the gels of Batch '85 (and I'm pretty sure the other alumni as well as the teachers) were nonetheless moved by its lyrics. It so captured the deep well of emotions of Stellans coming home to our "pugad" and "pangalawang tahanan"; of the fun and fond memories of "madres" and "titsers" and "barkada"; of lessons of love and loyalty.

When the Stellans of Batch ’85 left SMC, each traveled far and wide, looking for her own destiny, her own place under the sun. There were those who kept touch and never really left Stella’s side. Some (like me) took time - 25 years in fact - in coming back home to her Stellan family. Others, although on the other side of the world, reconnected and also shared in the fun via the modern–day technology (thank God for Facebook and Yahoogroups). Sadly though, a few also chose to stay away.

Patricia Evangelista wrote, “Leaving sometimes isn’t a matter of choice. It’s coming back that is.”

I have recognized this…and I have also recognized that I am a Stellan. And once a Stellan, always a Stellan – there’s no denying that! I left Stella in ‘85… I had no choice. But I’ve come back to the home that had helped shape and mold me. Coming back was my choice…and what a wonderful choice it has been.

letter to Mom (on the homecoming)

Dear Mom,

Where do I begin telling you what a great weekend I had at Stella Maris. I've been visiting the school, you know. I was gone for so long, I was afraid at first - but the gels have been welcoming in spite of the years in-between. These were the girls I grew up with. You would have loved seeing them again. Some of them remember you and were asking about you. It touched me and I so wished that you were here. I would have taken you to the homecoming and you would have had the time of your life!

When I made my first steps back into the gates of Stella, I couldn't describe how I felt. Mercy called it "coming home"...and I couldn't agree more. But it felt more than just coming home. I was simply at a loss for words - until I read Atty. Kristy's "Sweet Inspirations" article and she aptly described how I felt. Coming back to Stella was like feeling the deeply-missed embrace of a mother.... and I did feel your warm embrace and everything felt so right.

One time, Mina came to practice with her mom and I watched them talking quietly and intently. I envy her. I would have given anything to have you here for quiet and intent discussions. But our talks were never quiet, were they? They were loud and funny and fun. I miss our talks, your stories and and our fights. I would have loved telling you about our bloopers, my wonderful leaders, my friends, the changes in us and at the school, and the real and “reel” Si-Cats (SCs). I know you would have loved to have seen again Mela and Mercy and Roxanne and Teresa. It would have been more fun had Myra and Gaby and Sheila and Jong and Tetet and Joy joined us. I know you felt relieved that I made friends with such "good" girls. Well, if you only knew how "bad" they can be….

Being the “showbiz” that you were, you would have loved hearing about Nonong Pedero and the music he created for us. You certainly would have reeled with joy at hearing Anthony Castelo sing and seeing him bring the house down with the catchy dance song he rendered. You would have probably gone on stage to dance…no, cling to him and kiss him like crazy. And of course, you would have dropped your jaw at Mercy's song numbers. I remember how you gushed with awe at her singing during my birthday party.

I so loved the girls I grew up with. They never cease to amaze me. I just loved that we started the program with a short prayer at the backstage and ended the celebration with a prayer of thanks. My leaders worked sooooo hard at and for this, I am put to shame. They were relentless at giving their all - they planned, tracked down, piloted the course, raised funds, collected samu't sari stuff, created, sang, danced, cheered and pushed. Mostly they inspired and sailed us home.

Me? I was a PA – a Pretty Alalay and I was good at it, thank you very much! Although I did ruin Atty. Kristy's rug and floor. Oh, and I sang and danced a bit. You know how I dance and sing like I’m nuts? Well, that’s exactly what I did. Someone in the office said I looked like Lady Gaga when I strutted on stage. I totally disagreed - I was just plain gaga!

The tribute given to the teachers and nuns was so moving it brought people to tears. As the teachers were being honored, I gave my own silent tribute to my first and best teacher – you, Mom! I remember how you glared those big eyes of your in frustration as you tutored me the day’s lessons; how you scratched your head and gave a big loud sigh as you wondered if I was really your child – you, a Summa Cum Laude and UP scholar, expected to have a genius of a daughter. Well, heller, mom! You have… I just haven’t figured out yet where I’m a genius at.

More than the school subjects, you taught me the things that really matter most in life - God, family, friendship, love, truth, charity, integrity, service and forgiveness. I know how you and dad wanted what was good for me and Emily. I guess that's why you insisted we attended school at Stella Maris. Stella was good for us in so many ways!

I never got the chance to thank you for getting me into Stella. I guess I never really recognized how the school shaped my life nor have I fully appreciated the girls who have and continue to inspire me....until now. You're right Mom - I made friends with the best of the batch.

Thank you, Mom, for the life lessons...and for Stellang pinakamamahal!

love you lots!

maan

the auditorium...hoooo!

It was a Friday, the last PABOLASTIK day. I had just won 2^nd place at the 4K Fun Run sponsored by NPC (I just had to say it ;-P) . My energy was up and nothing was going to get me down. I went to Stella early to help out Weng when and where needed. I was a tremendous help as I ended up fanning her up to cool her down while she calls out and juts down “Class 4-Masigasig - Papel, 2 kilos; rejects, .3, plastik, 4.2…”

Pia, Criscini and Josephine along with her husband Flor (I’m pretty sure it’s short for Florencio or Florentino and not Flora) came a bit later at the Grade School Building where Weng and I were “working”. They were supposed to explore and take photos of the different areas of the building as part of the AVP for the homecoming celeb. I wanted to go “sightseeing” so I went along with them. Main stop, I was told, was the auditorium. Scary and exciting!

As we started our tour, I was excited to go around and see what has become of our grade school home. We visited the clinic and saw that they still had rattan folding beds to lay patients on. The dental chair looked pretty much the same one used while we were in grade school. It was probably as old as us! Amazing!

Next stop was the library at the end of the hall. The door was open but there was nobody in. We looked around and the library was quiet and everything was neatly arranged in place. We went further in and found the door leading to the backstage. The knob was unlocked. We opened the door and found the backroom dark. I put on a brave front and went in and climbed the stairs thinking they’d follow suit and be right behind me. I looked back and they were just peeking through the opening of the door waiting for God-knows-what to happen. I stayed at the top of the stairway while Criscini tried to get a picture of the backstage (or least the steps leading to it). The light of the camera flash went on but the camera won’t budge…it won’t take pictures! Criscini’s camera never acted up like that before! We finally found the light switch and Criscini’s camera finally worked. Big sigh!

Off we went to look at the kindergarten rooms. Back then, our rooms were located at the ground floor of the high school building. Now, they’re not just situated where they’re supposed to be but they’re also air-conditioned. Wow! Ang daya!

Off we went to our main stop…the dreaded auditorium. We all were trying to brave it out as we entered the room. Then we were transported back in time as we recalled those days of singing and dance contests, of spelling bees and skits, of oration contests and other such activities. Somehow, I remember the auditorium to be bigger. I guess I was just smaller then and the place seemed gigantic to me at that time. I focused on those fond memories to keep me from freezing with fear as we went all the way in.

Three Grade 3 boys came in with us. To them, going in the dark, big room was exciting. I guess it was! They certainly made enough noise to keep us distracted. But little boys can have such big imaginations. One boy said he saw something move at the backstage. I wanted to Gibbs-slap him at the back of his head to make him stop! We told them what adults always tell children about ghosts and white ladies - that it was all just their imagination. In short, we told them a big fat lie!

Criscini took a lot of pictures of the place from all angles. We posed with the kids and made short talk with them. But the kids soon got bored with us and left us to ourselves. More “kodakan” went down as we took centerstage and danced, took our bows and shared more of our thoughts and recollections of all we did in that place. We were no longer scared….until Criscini’s camera acted up once again and refused to take one last photo. As we hurried out of the place, Criscini, Pia and Josephine shrieked in fear, “Aaaaah!” I looked back to see and ask what the commotion was all about.

“Whaaat?!? You didn’t hear that?” they all gushed. “Heard what ?“ I asked in fear and wonder. “There was this loud clanging sound that seemed to come from somewhere in the auditorium!” they were all saying excitedly at the same time.

Suddenly, out of nowhere , we heard this tiny voice say, “Ay sorry po! Kami po yun! Nahulog po kasi yung isa naming kasama sa upuan e!” We looked up at the top of the third floor stairs and saw the three Grade 3 boys looking down sheepishly at us.

Look who has a big imagination! Big sigh and a big smile! Haaay!

D' Wonder Gels of Batch '85

Breathe in, breathe out, wax on, wax off! I’ve been chanting this mantra for sometime now, what with the load of work I have to finish. I can’t seem to get anything done. It’s overwhelming!

But then I go to the meetings and dance and song practices and I see the homecoming committee heads come in carrying bagful of stuff they’ve worked on or are working on for the upcoming celeb. I hear of talks of going to bed at 4:30 a.m. after working on the souvenir mag or sorting through pics or going through articles or other such stuff the batch would need for the grand alumni homecoming. All these over and above their office work, the clients that need attending to, the kids’ needs to be seen to.

It’s then I realize that my load is peanuts compared to the work the committee’s on. I also realize I’m surrounded by Batch 85’s own D’ Wonder Girls. Why are they Wonder Girls, you ask? Let me tell you.

Atty. Kristy. She’s all over the SMC place. Oh, excuse me…she’s all over the Metro. She’s off running around meeting printers, SMC nuns and teachers and alumni officers, photographers, potential sponsors, lights and sounds people, souvenir companies… the list goes on! She writes. She edits. She plans. Brings home people. Conceived PABOLASTIK. Incorporated Batch ’85. She also bears the brunt of complaints and protests and grumbles and objections. And yet you never see her without a smile. Shake that booty, girl!

Pia. She’s not just all over the place, she’ all over the phones, e-mails, FB and what have you. She’s our own private Idaho…este, detective I mean. She’s tirelessly looked for “missing” batch mates and is relentless in her pursuit to bring them all in and have them join in the fun. As co-chair, she meets people here and there and everywhere to work on the mag, on pics, accounts, registration, info updates, etc. She’s also been everywhere in the junk truck picking up…yes, you guessed it –junk. She’s generously offered Pia’s Pride to bring in food and stuff as well as drive people home and around.

Mela. The techie of the group. The cool and silent worker. She accepts work with a smile and silently does them without so much brouhaha. She’s worked with the web site developers and SMC web site committee for the design of our very own school web site. She’s kept account of the batch funds. Came up with the stage backdrop design and shirt designs. She’s actually used her leave credits to devote her Fridays on working on the PABOLASTIK drive.

Weng. She’s funny.

You thought that was it about Weng, didn’t you? Of course not! She brings in so much laughter she makes work fun. And what would PABOLASTIK be without her and her DUGYOTISTIC reports? Who’d have thought that working with junk could be enjoyable! She works just as hard as she does in making people laugh.

Mercy. Her decision to take a sabbatical from work is a blessing in disguise…a blessing for Batch ’85, that is. She’s created amazing songs and write-ups. Inspired Stellans, young and old, with her song and talk on how Stella shaped her (all of us really).
Atty. Ruth. She’s provided/referred our talented and patient choreographer, Tin, as well as our vocal coach and arranger, the Nonong Pedero. She’s certainly instrumental in drawing in considerable contributions.

Sairish Rosemarie. She’s arranged the photographer for the photo shoot and collected pics for the mag. She’s actually made use of her learnings from Mrs. La Torre’s class and worked on the Egyptian costume for her group.

Mina. She drives all the way from the South to spend weekends with her family. Yet she chooses to spend half of it to choreograph the group for the OPM medley.

Grace. She generously allows the committee (with mga pampagulong uzi like me) to hold meetings at their Tapa King branch along Libis and offers to drive people home especially when it’s particularly late and rainy.

The Falling Tears (Camille, Atty. Ruth, Cecille, Monet) lead the groups in the dance routines.

Other Wonder Girls. Elaissa gives her two cents’ worth of advice and provides inputs where needed. Karen has taken charge of editing and putting together the video messages. Agnes works hard at every activity and constantly helps out in the PABOLASTIK drive. Jen arranged the powerpoint version of the missalette for the mass. Mario prepared the AVPs (yes, in plural). Emelyn is the appointed poncho designer and maker for the group. Noi offered her catering services. The writers (Mae, Roxanne, Joan, Myra, Camille, Atty. Ruth, Mina, Mercy) and their moving write-ups. And many others who have helped in the various activities and have been generous with their talents and time and, of course, contributions.

Me…I wiggle my ears. I’m also a wonder girl but of a different breed - I’m the asking kind. I wonder and ask where these beautiful Wonder Girls draw their strength and energy from. What motivates and drives them to work so haaaard? I mean, they’re not after any grade or merit or approval. Their lives certainly do not depend on this. They don’t get paid to do all these. They’ve shelled out more than I ever could (and I’m not just talking money here). They’ve given back to Stella and to the batch more than what we deserve. They didn’t have to this…and yet they chose to.

Whatever happens on October 2 and beyond, Stellans Batch ’85 is soooo blessed to have such Wonder(ful) Girls! Wow and hats off and bravo and kudos and salute and good job and “galing” don’t seem to be adequate. But for now…these would have to do.

Thank you, Wonder Gels!

on crushes and first loves

Ahhhh! All these talks about high school crushes and first loves rekindled memories of my own “first love” while in high school.

It was the summer before my senior year when we first met - the time when “Telephone” by Sheena Easton and Spandau Ballet’s “Gold” were staple dance songs at parties and Bonnie Tyler’s "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was a constant at radio stations all over. He was a freshman in college and had just come out of the seminary to try out the “world” when I met him. His name was Alfred.

He was tall and lanky and wore eyeglasses that reminded me of Clark Kent. He was sweet and gentle and was quite a looker. We were pushed together at every opportunity by common friends and soon, I gave him my sweet “yes” (in Tagalog, “ang matamis kong ‘OO’”- Yehee!). I come from a conservative family and my mom and dad never knew him as a boyfriend (I think!).

We’d go out to parties or just hang out with friends. We did nothing major major. We were together for about 10 months when I started thinking of breaking up with him. The thrill had gone for me and I loved him dearly but more as a barkada than anything else. It was time to move on.

Just when I had practiced what I would say to him, he got seriously ill and was hospitalized for weeks. He never recovered. I was a young “byuda” at the tender age of 16. It was sad!

Since I was wracked with guilt over my “break-up” plan, I was scared to death that he would "visit" me from the other side. So for the whole summer after graduation (his funeral was on the day of my HS graduation - how dramatic can it get!), I slept in my parent's bedroom.

For the 2 months that I slept in my parents' bedroom, I woke up in the middle of the night to the rattling sound of the garden set chairs. It was on that set where Alfred and I used to hang out and talk. It was noisy! It was loud! It was distinct! But I will never understand how it is that I was the only one who woke up to that racket. It gave me palpitations and scared the life out of me!

One sunny Sunday afternoon, I was all alone in the house when I once again heard that rattling sound of metal chairs. I was again besieged with fear and panic. I found it difficult to breathe. Since the sun was out and I was pretty sure the neighbors would come to my rescue if I let out a bloodcurdling scream, I made one brave step after another towards the door to look out, expecting a tall, lanky guy sitting by his usual chair. Instead, I found our big dog under a metal chair scratching her ears with such gusto that her body knocked around the chairs and made those blasted rattling sound!

That night, I packed up my stuff from my parents’ bedroom and slept in my own bed like a log!

That bitch! (means female dog - what were you thinking?!?)

on dances and coffee table book

I’m doing this post while having my hair done at the salon. I badly needed to treat myself after a long and tiring weekend of practice for the SMC grand alumni homecoming celebration. Last Friday, the “dancers” for the program had a grueling non-stop seven(?)-hour practice. Some arrived as early as 10 am (wow!). Practice finished after 7 pm. After watching do our dance routines, our dance coach, Tin, was probably silently shouting, “MORE! MORE!... MORE PRACTICE!” We couldn’t seem to remember the steps to the 2-minute dances we’d have to perform! Senior moments galore!

After dancing the day away, there was more stuff to be done, however, I was told. The layout and selection of pictures for the coffee table book had to be completed ASAP. Since I was still pumped up and had reserve energy left (or so I thought), I did not hesitate to help out. But helping out was the last thing I did. While Atty. Kristy, Pia, Sairish, Weng and Mario were busily tinkering at the laptops or sorting some pics or going through lists or doing whatever for the homecoming, here were some of the things I did: ate jolly hotdog, stubbed my pinky toe (hurt like hell), bumped and bruised my leg against the bed post (hope I didn’t do damage to the bed post) and spilled water and ruined the rug and floor in Atty. Kristy’s bedroom where they worked.

It’s an understatement to say that I was no help. So after ruining the bedroom floor, I decided to stay glued to a corner lest I ruin anything else.

After 1 a.m., there were still work to be done… but home beckoned. So most of us packed up and left Atty. Kristy and Mario to do more work. I dropped off Weng, Sairish and Pia and headed home. As I was driving alone a little after 2:00 a.m., I felt useless and asked Bro why I was led to “help out” in the first place when I did little help, if at all. I could’ve been home resting or out having dinner. Why was I there? Then He said, “You brought them home.”

I felt shame after that. I was such a whiner. The officers of the committee have been at it tirelessly for months and they’re doing splendid work…and I don’t hear them complaining.

It was then reality hit me - we cannot all be movers and shakers of this world. There are also bit players to help move and shake. Every little bit of help counts a lot - coming to practices and meetings, being on time (a most definite plus), sharing our resources (a.k.a. money, cash, bread, datung, dough) and junk (also means cash) , give moral support (oh, I’ve got plenty of that to give), and yes, giving someone a lift…every little bit helps.

Much like in God’s little factory called earth - every one plays a role – big or small, a role just the same. And though I play a teenie-weenie role in His Kingdom, I'd like to do my teenie-weenie bit to help.

Lord, may I do my role, no matter how small, with a smile. Thank You for this role! And thank You for the "big" role players, especially those who play "big" in my life - my leaders, my mentors, my teachers. Bless them always!