Two boys rushed passed me towards the vacant lot where we were setting up some chairs. They kept on running around. Later on, they were siting on the chairs we have prepared while still pulling pranks at each other. One would stand and pretend to fall down on the floor and pretend that it had been the other child's fault. Of course, a scuffle would start and they would fight until someone intervenes or one of them starts to cry.
Had they been patients in our clinic under my watch, I would have chased them around. Yet they weren't. In fact, they were miscreants from one of the yet to be demolished slums in Manila. Most of them were filthy and smelled of sweat, dirt, and something else. One even had something on his hair that I dare not identify not even where he had been playing before coming here.
Had it been someone else, say some wise-ass-social climbing maniac, they would definitely faint or even run away either from the stench or from the unruly kids. I had been used to that since childhood. I had some classmates from prep school before and had the experience of talking to them since high school and college. So their smell or even their looks would be normal to me. Besides, I saw no difference between them and the kids that I handle in private clinics. They both had great need to be understood.
That was why I was there together with the members from our Wednesday small group. There were seven of us that day. Two guys, including me, and the rest were women. We brought the kids snacks, some activities, and a bunch of chairs for them to sit on. We were armed with only our voices, our hearts and our prayers. It was a ministry we took over from a hard working couple who roam around the vicinity of Pasay-Manila and spread God's love to these kids. It is what we called a Branch Sabbath School.
If there was one word to describe this kids, it was chaos. We tried to break up fights, force them to stand and even try to get them to sit down. My friends tried everything, even bribing them with gifts and prizes, but they seem to have understood that everyone get food afterward anyway. So their ramblings and fighting ensued.
That was how we started the program. Some of them refusing to stand up, some of them fighting amongst each other, some were crying. It was utter chaos. No one could pacify these bunch of rowdy kids. We even thought of leaving, but that would mean admitting defeat. So we went ahead with the program.
What struck me most was not their ramblings, it was their silence. We finally made them to silence even for just a few precious minutes. And I would believe that it was not really me. Although I was the one who stood in front of them at that time, I believe it was the story that hushed up their mouths. The story was a Gospel classic: Jesus feeding the multitude.
I saw their faces hungry for the word of God. Not one kid spoke a word. Not one tried to run away or play around. All eyes were on me as I told them the story. All of them were in complete attention. Their eyes were bright with wonder as the story progressed. For a moment there I felt that relating that simple story to them made my life count for something.
Just the morning before that, I heard our elder preach that to make your life more meaningful, count your days. Maybe this is what counting your days mean. Counting your days working for the most High and seeing the precious faces of young souls famished for a story or even a comforting word from God. It is seeing how truly blessed we can all be who can afford the Bibles, and the Devotional Books to be inspired and look at life a tad more differently than these kids who would have to wait for someone to tell them about the good news from God.
It is their need, unruly and carefree as they are, and it is our duty to teach them. We who are able bodied, and can read, we who may be out of jobs but can see through the God behind all misfortunes, we are all accountable in God's sight.
So if you seem to find your life meaningless and short, just try to see to the spiritual needs of these children, something they would forget the world around them for.
More on making lives count visit:
http://manacled.wordpress.com/2009/02/22/numbering-our-days/
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
This Little Light of Mine
Would you believe that the moment I breathed a sigh of relief, I received a sudden call?
I was truly thankful that the Dear Kuya Episode 2 was canceled. I was downcast, I admit. I really wanted to hear the stories these couples would share to us. At the same time, I felt really glad. This week was like hell for me. The papers that I needed to rush because I set my own deadline were the agenda each night. Added to this is the daily race around the clock to provide quality service to my puny but restless clients. They were kids and I was a bigger kid, just imagine the games we play. So this is what working 6-8 hours a day in a week feels like. It burns.
So I have already set my mind on a blissful sabbath with only the deaf ministry to think about. I thought things would have been set to the right mood. That was what I thought, until my phone rang.
I was alone at home. I wanted to rest. The rest of the family went to church. I was not expecting any other commitments since I already informed my small group that I can't make it. Suddenly my phone rang. It was kuya mike, one of YM's leaders. What I heard shocked me! He told me to be the superintendent this sabbath.
It was like a shockwave to my ears. I never knew that I would reach this point. To be supe or superintendent, means to be incharge of the sabbath school program. It's the program where most people attend. It is also one of the most busiest and tragically, most pressuring program. I've seen a few of my AMiCUS-UPM friends bend and fold at the pressure of keeping the program well.
I guess I am really over reacting. Kuya Mike told me that I'll just be reading the remarks. But it seems to be the start of some new ministry. Once more, God has given me another fuel to keep my fires burning. It may be a small ember but heck, I'd do anything to keep it going.
Well, I guess if it is God calling and telling me to go, I'd definitely keep it aflame. I don't want to find myself inside a big fish or be banned from entering somewhere for my resistance. It's for the Lord, and I believe He will strengthen me to conquer it.
I was truly thankful that the Dear Kuya Episode 2 was canceled. I was downcast, I admit. I really wanted to hear the stories these couples would share to us. At the same time, I felt really glad. This week was like hell for me. The papers that I needed to rush because I set my own deadline were the agenda each night. Added to this is the daily race around the clock to provide quality service to my puny but restless clients. They were kids and I was a bigger kid, just imagine the games we play. So this is what working 6-8 hours a day in a week feels like. It burns.
So I have already set my mind on a blissful sabbath with only the deaf ministry to think about. I thought things would have been set to the right mood. That was what I thought, until my phone rang.
I was alone at home. I wanted to rest. The rest of the family went to church. I was not expecting any other commitments since I already informed my small group that I can't make it. Suddenly my phone rang. It was kuya mike, one of YM's leaders. What I heard shocked me! He told me to be the superintendent this sabbath.
It was like a shockwave to my ears. I never knew that I would reach this point. To be supe or superintendent, means to be incharge of the sabbath school program. It's the program where most people attend. It is also one of the most busiest and tragically, most pressuring program. I've seen a few of my AMiCUS-UPM friends bend and fold at the pressure of keeping the program well.
I guess I am really over reacting. Kuya Mike told me that I'll just be reading the remarks. But it seems to be the start of some new ministry. Once more, God has given me another fuel to keep my fires burning. It may be a small ember but heck, I'd do anything to keep it going.
Well, I guess if it is God calling and telling me to go, I'd definitely keep it aflame. I don't want to find myself inside a big fish or be banned from entering somewhere for my resistance. It's for the Lord, and I believe He will strengthen me to conquer it.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
One Really Bad Day
This is really a bad day for me and it happened this week! ARGGGHHH!!!
I was early that day - a Tuesday. I took my first kid for his therapy session. I was trying to shake off the morning sickness by being hyper. The kid also seemed sleepy after an hour of OT session. So to cut the kid some slack I allowed him to play for awhile while I prepared our activity for the day.
Me: So ---, How are you today? Can you tell me what you did this weekend?
Kid: I ---
He was cut off short. He kept on staring at something under my chair.
Me: Come on, answer.
I looked into his notebook where his schedule was written so I could prompt him
Kid: I went to the province....
And that started him talking about his trip, however, I somehow notice him still peeking at something under my seat a few times.
Me: ---, what are you looking at?
Kid: (smiled) Nothing.
The same pattern or something similar to it happened til my kid before lunch. It was a bitter sweet revelation.
Me: ---, what are you looking at?
Kid: A hole.
Me: What hole? under my chair? Is there a hole under my chair?
Kid: No. (pointing at somewhere and then laughed)
At this point I saw what the child meant. I didn't know if I should smack the child or just laugh along. He was pointing at a hole in the crotch of my six-pocket trousers. And in between popped out my shorts and something else. WAAAAAHH!!
Couldn't they be more discreet?
Forgive me for being modest. Buahahahaha... Now I have one pair of trousers short. DARN! The next few hours until dawn I was really conscious of my movements. How could this happen to me!!
Monday, February 16, 2009
Felt Like Yesterday
I shrugged off the after effects of the singles' retreat like dust on my shoulders. Its not because I was not successful in finding some one. It was never my goal in the first place. I really enjoyed that two nights and two days of fun and relaxation. I didn't even realize the silly antics I played that saturday night and morning after (I just hope they won't think differently of me after that).
That wasn't the point. I had to shrug it off and face something more formidable than that. Like what the co-owner, Mr. J. Lacson said to me at the end of the day it was a "trial by fire."
I'll just be surprised with what I can live through.
Back tracking a few days before today (monday). Last thursday, I was called by the new center I applied for to fill in my Mondays. They told me the schedule. I had 3 evaluations for that day, 1 adult, 2 pedia patients. I almost leaped for joy. At last I had an adult patient.
Leap it was indeed!
Out of the oven into the fire. That kind of leap!
The first trial
I was an hour early. The center was not even open yet. Most of the therapists were not yet in. I wasn't excited. As I have told earlier, I was too nervous. It was like stepping into a familiar yet different world. I couldn't compose my self. It's just another eval you don't have to worry about anything, I told my self. But I had that gut feeling that things won't be alright today.
The first pedia patient tried the most of my skills. The moment the child saw me, the child cried until 15 minutes left of the session. The whole 45 minutes was a test of patience and skill. Both of which, I am afraid were still yet to be developed. I was able to get some of the child's skills with that 15 minutes.
I bombarded the child with toys, but it seemed that the combined powers of dora, barney, spongebob, blues clues and gang seem to have found their match with this child. It seemed that there was no peeling this kid off the mother.
At last I was successful, the child was pacified but the time was nearly up.
The Second trial
I observed my mentor until the end of lunch time. After lunch was another big leap into the fire.
It was my first adult patient in my career as a newly grad SP. I have handled adults before as an intern, but I can't really say that I've met them all. Especially this one.
It was ego mixed with emotional lability. It was someone who have reached the height of a career and fallen into despair with the onset of stroke. That and a hemicraniectomy. And voila! A patient from somewhere else.
What else could I do, it was part of the job description: never battle with the egotistical and emotionally labile. Always hit them with the ten ton rationale: that they can't speak properly and you can help them (I hope!).
The Third trial
The third is just like the first and second combined and tripled. The kid was cute. He was funny and bright. But he was not in the mood and he was late. So no matter what prodding I ever did, even with the added semi-magical powers of THE CAR, THE BALL, and THE STICKER, it still didn't work.
In the end the session had to be continued. That was when the volcano started to burst. That's all that there is to say with the addition that it wasn't the kid's fault.
So there. If that wasn't enough to put the memories of the singles' retreat into oblivion for the day, then call me a kill joy.
That wasn't the point. I had to shrug it off and face something more formidable than that. Like what the co-owner, Mr. J. Lacson said to me at the end of the day it was a "trial by fire."
I'll just be surprised with what I can live through.
Back tracking a few days before today (monday). Last thursday, I was called by the new center I applied for to fill in my Mondays. They told me the schedule. I had 3 evaluations for that day, 1 adult, 2 pedia patients. I almost leaped for joy. At last I had an adult patient.
Leap it was indeed!
Out of the oven into the fire. That kind of leap!
The first trial
I was an hour early. The center was not even open yet. Most of the therapists were not yet in. I wasn't excited. As I have told earlier, I was too nervous. It was like stepping into a familiar yet different world. I couldn't compose my self. It's just another eval you don't have to worry about anything, I told my self. But I had that gut feeling that things won't be alright today.
The first pedia patient tried the most of my skills. The moment the child saw me, the child cried until 15 minutes left of the session. The whole 45 minutes was a test of patience and skill. Both of which, I am afraid were still yet to be developed. I was able to get some of the child's skills with that 15 minutes.
I bombarded the child with toys, but it seemed that the combined powers of dora, barney, spongebob, blues clues and gang seem to have found their match with this child. It seemed that there was no peeling this kid off the mother.
At last I was successful, the child was pacified but the time was nearly up.
The Second trial
I observed my mentor until the end of lunch time. After lunch was another big leap into the fire.
It was my first adult patient in my career as a newly grad SP. I have handled adults before as an intern, but I can't really say that I've met them all. Especially this one.
It was ego mixed with emotional lability. It was someone who have reached the height of a career and fallen into despair with the onset of stroke. That and a hemicraniectomy. And voila! A patient from somewhere else.
What else could I do, it was part of the job description: never battle with the egotistical and emotionally labile. Always hit them with the ten ton rationale: that they can't speak properly and you can help them (I hope!).
The Third trial
The third is just like the first and second combined and tripled. The kid was cute. He was funny and bright. But he was not in the mood and he was late. So no matter what prodding I ever did, even with the added semi-magical powers of THE CAR, THE BALL, and THE STICKER, it still didn't work.
In the end the session had to be continued. That was when the volcano started to burst. That's all that there is to say with the addition that it wasn't the kid's fault.
So there. If that wasn't enough to put the memories of the singles' retreat into oblivion for the day, then call me a kill joy.
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Greybox PC: l'histoire de RASH
This is a piece of ancient history. This is the first time it will be told.
There was once a mighty warrior who lived in the old times. He was strong, and was able to fight countless battles. He was victorious in all the campaigns that he rose to the rank of general and, eventually, king of the entire nation. He was a great warrior. But what was so striking about the man was that he was already dead. Why exactly would you bother to talk about an ancient warrior who died long ago? so we won't be talking about him anymore. So forget about him.
One saturday afternoon, four guys inconspicuously went to the mall. They were normal teenagers with no supernatural powers whatsoever. What were you thinking? This isn't a hero story!
So there. They seemed to be window shopping in the mall. Except for the fact that two of them were carrying something big and heavy. If you think that they were firearms, you've got a really crazy imagination. Who would be able to enter a mall with firearms? They were carrying a desktop CPU. By the look of it, it seemed like the best model at that time.
Aside from the two, another one was carrying a black backpack full of drugs. Duh! As if you can enter the mall with that. But he seemed to be sweating profusely almost looking as if he was full of tension. So whatever was inside that backpack, it wasn't drugs but it was troubling.
The other teenager who seemed to lead the pack was a pudgy kid with that proud look on his face. He was the epitome of being obeyed with great rewards if you did. He wasn't the bully type actually more of the conceited spoiled brat type.
They seemed to be headed towards the 3rd floor of the mall where most of the computer shops and tech gadgets were located. It was not a big mall but it was crowded. MOA was not yet created back then and SM megamall had no cyberzone at that time.
So the four teens, who seemed to know more of the world went from computer repair shop to computer repair shop. They seemed to be looking for something. Eventually they stopped at one store that seemed to have caught the tastes of their leader.
Inside the store, the leader made the transaction with the shop owners. The two carrying the payload brought their burden to the counter. Now it was clear, they were upgrading the unit. With a gesture of the hand of their leader, the third one brought forth the bag and opened it. It was full of cash. 40, 000 to be exact. The blood money of hardworking parents who had no idea that their idiotic pig of a son had the will to burn it out of whim. His PC after all was already state of the art, but here he was ordering his friends around to upgrade it to one stupid notch higher.
So that's what happened. They set to wait and roam the labyrinthine mall. While waiting the worst challenge was posted. A sushi eating contest. The two who previously carried the PC almost barfed in disgust but the other two were with that foolish grin of deceit. They loved the food, the other two didn't. In the end, the fools were full, the peasants were hungry.
But it wasn't the end of the day yet. After a few hours, the blood money was burned, all of it. The desktop CPU looked the same as before except when you look in the inside with only the hard disk intact.
There they were off in a cab to their hideaway. They finally went their separate ways that day. The one carrying the bag still has his backpack, now empty. The other one, who was having the foolish grin on his mouth, was carrying a plastic bag containing the removed entrails of the desktop PC. Still functioning if put in the right place, and he was the only one with the know-how, so he gets the parts.
An inquiry was made after wards by the parents of their leader. The ones who earned all of the money. But nothing was found. No trace of the scheme came out.
Seven years later, the PC entrails were transferred into a grey case with reminders of the great rip off. Several times the parts were changed. The video cards malfunctioned and were replaced. The original cannot be recognized anymore, but deep inside it was still the same.
That same PC died this week and with its death was the death of the secret group called RASH.
There was once a mighty warrior who lived in the old times. He was strong, and was able to fight countless battles. He was victorious in all the campaigns that he rose to the rank of general and, eventually, king of the entire nation. He was a great warrior. But what was so striking about the man was that he was already dead. Why exactly would you bother to talk about an ancient warrior who died long ago? so we won't be talking about him anymore. So forget about him.
One saturday afternoon, four guys inconspicuously went to the mall. They were normal teenagers with no supernatural powers whatsoever. What were you thinking? This isn't a hero story!
So there. They seemed to be window shopping in the mall. Except for the fact that two of them were carrying something big and heavy. If you think that they were firearms, you've got a really crazy imagination. Who would be able to enter a mall with firearms? They were carrying a desktop CPU. By the look of it, it seemed like the best model at that time.
Aside from the two, another one was carrying a black backpack full of drugs. Duh! As if you can enter the mall with that. But he seemed to be sweating profusely almost looking as if he was full of tension. So whatever was inside that backpack, it wasn't drugs but it was troubling.
The other teenager who seemed to lead the pack was a pudgy kid with that proud look on his face. He was the epitome of being obeyed with great rewards if you did. He wasn't the bully type actually more of the conceited spoiled brat type.
They seemed to be headed towards the 3rd floor of the mall where most of the computer shops and tech gadgets were located. It was not a big mall but it was crowded. MOA was not yet created back then and SM megamall had no cyberzone at that time.
So the four teens, who seemed to know more of the world went from computer repair shop to computer repair shop. They seemed to be looking for something. Eventually they stopped at one store that seemed to have caught the tastes of their leader.
Inside the store, the leader made the transaction with the shop owners. The two carrying the payload brought their burden to the counter. Now it was clear, they were upgrading the unit. With a gesture of the hand of their leader, the third one brought forth the bag and opened it. It was full of cash. 40, 000 to be exact. The blood money of hardworking parents who had no idea that their idiotic pig of a son had the will to burn it out of whim. His PC after all was already state of the art, but here he was ordering his friends around to upgrade it to one stupid notch higher.
So that's what happened. They set to wait and roam the labyrinthine mall. While waiting the worst challenge was posted. A sushi eating contest. The two who previously carried the PC almost barfed in disgust but the other two were with that foolish grin of deceit. They loved the food, the other two didn't. In the end, the fools were full, the peasants were hungry.
But it wasn't the end of the day yet. After a few hours, the blood money was burned, all of it. The desktop CPU looked the same as before except when you look in the inside with only the hard disk intact.
There they were off in a cab to their hideaway. They finally went their separate ways that day. The one carrying the bag still has his backpack, now empty. The other one, who was having the foolish grin on his mouth, was carrying a plastic bag containing the removed entrails of the desktop PC. Still functioning if put in the right place, and he was the only one with the know-how, so he gets the parts.
An inquiry was made after wards by the parents of their leader. The ones who earned all of the money. But nothing was found. No trace of the scheme came out.
Seven years later, the PC entrails were transferred into a grey case with reminders of the great rip off. Several times the parts were changed. The video cards malfunctioned and were replaced. The original cannot be recognized anymore, but deep inside it was still the same.
That same PC died this week and with its death was the death of the secret group called RASH.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
I wished but not really...
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