BEFORE I BOAST of my exemplary female friends, let me talk about Milktea, a Jack Russel male (terrier puppy) I cannot call ours yet because he is still being offered to a willing receiver. Lest I be taken wrong, we already have Bonson, a truly tame, lovable Dachshund mongrel, who is enough for our petting need. My youngest son was gifted with the terrier on the condition that, if we refuse him, he goes to another able pet taker. At first he was cute and lovable, alien to a new surrounding and pawing his way around. Until he grew a little and started demonstrating his tenacious nature (in the past, we’ve had terriers we had to give away). He’d “scavenge” for shoes, slippers, doormats, stray rags and trash in the bin and practically sink his itchy teeth in them. Myrna and our kasambahay Cita have had enough. Cita’s son Renzo could have assumed the care and training of the little wrecker had he not found a job just recently so the task of minding (we walk them at night; I’m their bather) two dogs fell in her hands. Aes could not find a taker so I asked around; two friends initially showed interest but backed down later when I told them of the nature of the beast. Desperate (I thought the need was immediate), I asked Cita to find out if any of the trash collectors would be interested. One was but when she was about to hand Milktea over, my eldest son took pity on him. He is for giving him away but to someone we know, somewhere safe. Myrna and I felt guilty, especially for the trash guy’s dashed delight, and Cita’s embarrassment. Anyway, Alex said he’ll try his friends. For my part, I texted Noy Tony who said he might have someone who’ll take him in. He messaged me that the person has acquired a puppy already. Then Kuya Gemer brokered for his cousin Eddie who instantly took to liking the pic I posted. It no longer worries me if that prospect fizzles, too. If all else fails, optimism prevails. The Lord giveth and taketh away. Meanwhile, of a sudden, I watch Milktea in repose and agree that Kuya’s compassion was correct.
Utol is first of my prayerful pals who influence my life and piety. We met in the most unlikely place and through a personal, unbelievable linkage. She used to be a PREX speaker whom I didn’t particularly like until later when I joined her ministry which, over time, I gave up for its lukewarm compassion; she held on like a python until her example made me reconsider to join another office of the Legion. The pandemic may have halted our activities but not our relationship. She may have been fire-tested for she stood by me through my trials, struggles and difficuties, always a listening ear to my sad stories and ever the silver lining at storm’s end. The mere mention of our mutual moniker is music of a delightful decibel. She is the motivator why the catalyst of my perdition (my words-with-friends addiction) is now my trustworthy diversion. She made me put my pointer asunder and admitted all my faults as consequences of bad choices. Such is her faithful fiat.
I owe whoever coined “Mumunting basura, ilagay muna sa bulsa” my conversion from litterbug to law-abider. I grimace every time I see candy wrappers and other little litter that are strewn around, thanks to the inconsiderate trash throwers that still abound. I may be only one compared to the many but the difference makes a different me. For the Lord, the offering is plenty. UtoL’s compassion for the likes of these petty violators rubbed off on me.
We met at Madriñan, these two siblings in Christ and I. One was a seatmate in a deepening session on Totus Tuus Journey, a pilgrimage of faith we never get tired of taking and repeating. Then we were lumped together with the third member of the ocular team that realized during the outing we shared the same funny bone and would not weary recounting the laughing trip. It’s difficult not to join the jest when your priest gives as good as he gets. Thus, the Evangelization Team persists, give or take this leader or that reluctance.
Like the Account Executive, this ala-e servant is a single parent whose sunny disposition only dims when she senses that a member of her sorority is getting the short end of the stick. She is otherwise a tireless missionary, in spite of her borderline diabetes, and can be counted on in her secretarial duties. Her children are very protective and allows her to join only Madriñan and rare meetings of catch-up and chow to keep her spirits aligned with her few close chums.
The youngest in our group is fondly called “Bunso” by UtoL although she has an older, autistic brother as her ward. A teacher by profession, she gave up teaching when she deemed her peers were heaping undeserved pressure on her perceived distance from them, among other perceptions intrigue spawns. We had a mutual friend (choirmaster and psychologist) who succumbed to cancer some years back and feel that he still links us, in spite (if not because) of our differences. And the journey/pilgrimage keeps us abreast.
The newest member in the close circle is not really new. I’ve seen her in past retreats organized by the Legion and fairly recently in Montfortian pilgrimages more than once. She struck me as friendly in a hi-hello manner and really grew on me at the last pilgrimage to Antipolo. She was with her husband, a supportive soul until the medical mission, although he hasn’t joined the journey yet but that’s nothing that prayer can’t handle. I haven’t ceased hoping myself that my family will convert without my help.
Our BEC bible-sharing is every Thursday afternoon. I met this most recent addition to my short list in our virtual meeting. After three sessions, I sensed her candor. She does not claim spirituality in her statements but I plumbed the sincerity in her attempts to be holy (wants to be Mary but needs to be Martha). She sent me links to networks that offer apps, retreats and summits to increase my faith and lent me three books on Jesus, St. Augustine and St. Faustina. I started with St. Augustine’s “Confessions” and got stuck; the book is a profound prayer I had to read slowly to really discern. No worries, she reassured, it took her months. A miracle happened that, I dare say, attached me forever to this little soul. Thinking of a breather from “The Confessions,” I took out her two other books, “Consoling the Heart of Jesus” and “Diary” (of St. Faustina Kowalska). I quickly read the back-cover blurb of “Consoling.” Satisfied, I thought of finding a bookmarker for it. Closing the book, what would I find but a red, rectangular cartolina with her note to God! No goosies yet (surely there’ll be plenty ahead) but that’s Jesus approving already.
Outside of this spiritual circle, I have a family in the Cooperative where I used to be board secretary. I resigned recently owed to health reasons but retained my similar position at the Union which is the umbrella of that one (I’m still a member of) and other Coops. They were the reason I stayed on (until it was no longer healthy) and keep in touch with on occasion and whenever they needed assistance/counseling.
And then there are my PREX pals who were separated from me by the pandemic. Despite the absence of activities, we keep in touch through messenger and, infrequently, socially-distanced soirées. It goes without saying that, altogether, the prayer that preoccupies us all is pushing the pandemic to a place of no return. Amen.
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