UNANSWERED QUESTIONS (SAF 44)

I couldn't explain how I felt as I saw the breaking news on television about the encounter in Maguindanao that resulted in the massacre of 44 members of the elite Special Action Force of the Philippine National Police. I was just as shocked as everyone else.

Just like the little girl who asked the Pope, "Why do innocent children have to suffer?", I ask similar questions now. Why should there be innocent victims?   Why do those who have less in life always suffer?

Why do these men in uniform (mostly breadwinners with meager salaries), who risk lives supporting their families, have to experience death in such an inhumane manner in the hands of the enemy? In addition to that, reports of mutilated bodies that resulted from this ruthless killing added insult to injury.

Why do these things have to happen? How do you tell a child that his daddy will no longer be coming home? I know I will never get answers to my questions. Even the Pope did not have an answer to the little girl's query. But I will keep on asking anyway.

It was such a pitiful sight as the flag-draped caskets bearing the bodies of the slain heroes disembarked from the plane at Villamor Air Base. If the pain was too much for me, what more for their families? No word will ever be enough to ease their grief. I assume there was not a dry eye in Villamor Air Base that day, along with those glued to their television sets anxiously awaiting the return of the fallen heroes. Surely, the government will provide financial assistance and posthumous promotions, but is that enough? These can never compensate for the loss of their loved ones.

Men in uniform are trained to be tough. They are not supposed to cry. Thus, it was so heartbreaking to see them standing erect, with tears streaming down their cheeks as they paid respect to their fallen comrades, both at the arrival ceremony in Villamor Air Base and at the necrological rites in Camp Bagong Diwa. Crying is not a sign of weakness, nor does it make you less of a man. I admire men who never hide their tears.

Who really was to blame for this unfortunate incident? Pointing fingers is the name of the game. The victims' families cry out for justice. Maybe it would have been better if those responsible would be men enough to admit they erred in giving orders. They owe the victims' families an apology. Certainly, it would not take away the pain, but at least it would be lessened to a certain extent. Real men admit their mistakes. But somehow, hoping for this seems next to impossibility.

Soon the SAF 44 will be forgotten and all these will be just a memory, but their heroic deeds will live on in the hearts of every Filipino. After all, as SAF members so aptly expressed, " A black beret is not issued, it is earned." The SAF 44 died as heroes, and will forever be.

As far as my questions are concerned, they will remain unanswered.

But not for the SAF 44, for in that celestial place where they are now, all the answers to their questions have been provided by the ONE who knows it all.

LESSONS FROM POPE FRANCIS' VISIT

Almost everyone has shared his/her experience of a personal encounter with Pope Francis, except probably me.

For how can I, when I was not blessed enough to see him in person despite four unsuccessful attempts? I didn't take this lightly either. All throughout the duration of his five day visit, I had been crying non-stop as a result of this.

I kept asking myself why? How come others were able to see him, while I did not? I could only blame myself. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Maybe I acceded to my companions' decision to just give up. I'm not putting the blame on others though.

On our first attempt, we encountered closed roads and heavy traffic so we decided to turn back. On our second attempt, we managed to find a parking area near Harrison Plaza. We walked several blocks to go near the Apostolic Nunciature. I was standing with the crowd waiting for the Pope's entourage when it suddenly rained. I didn't leave my post where I thought I would have a good view of the Pope. After waiting for about a couple of hours, we heard the sirens of the vehicles escorting the Pope. I was so excited, but when he passed, I missed the chance to see him because he was riding his black Volkswagen instead of the pope mobile.

On our third attempt, again we decided to turn back because our vehicle couldn't pass thru the blocked roads. Our final try would have been on the morning of his departure. I decided not to sleep anymore since we agreed to leave at 3:00 a.m. But again, at the last minute the plan was cancelled.

I then thought of going by myself, but I did not know which road to take. I was even willing to walk from my place in Makati to Taft Avenue. I was so disappointed that I couldn't stop crying. I kept saying sorry to Jesus for not being able to see Him (as personified by the Pope). I felt this heaviness in my heart, and I pictured Jesus asking me; "Why did you  not come to see me? Why did you not welcome me? I came here for you because I know you couldn't go to me, but you were not there for me".

When the time comes that I would be face to face with Jesus, I wouldn't have the answers to his questions. On second thought, yes, I probably would. My answer, plain and simple would be, because I did not try hard enough. Maybe Jesus was disappointed with me as well. I don't blame him. I shout to the world that I love him, yet I did not welcome him when he came to see me.That really broke my heart.

I kept consoling myself that everything happens for a reason, and that he wouldn't have allowed this to happen if he didn't have an explanation. Up to now, I am still in the dark as to what the reason might have been. Maybe he didn't want me to get sick from the rain, or be pushed and shoved if I attempted to squeeze myself into the thick crowd. I don't want to speculate. Although I find comfort when priests say that even those watching on television would be equally blessed, still that is not enough for me.


In my heart, I know Jesus is not mad at me because he knew I attempted but failed. I even "lent" my guardian angel to the Pope. When I heard the news that Vatican received intelligence reports that there were death threats against his life, I "talked" to my guardian angel and told him that it is perfectly alright if he leaves me for five days so he can join the other angels protecting the Pope.

I know Jesus does not really mind because his love for me is so great, but why do I still feel this way? I guess I would have to live with this guilt for the rest of my life.

Despite this unfortunate turn of events, I learned a lot from the Pope. Just like Mother Teresa, his most outstanding quality is compassion for the poor. This was evidenced by his willingness to push thru with his trip to Tacloban despite the impending danger of the storm, all because he wanted to be with the typhoon victims. I would like to believe that what happened in Tacloban was providential. Maybe God made Pope Francis experience what the victims went through, albeit of a lesser magnitude.

Humility is another outstanding trait. It was such a humbling experience to see the Pope saying mass amid the rain wearing only a raincoat, and  carrying his own bag on his flight back to the Vatican.That would put a lot of government officials to shame. The enormous love he has on his flock, most especially us Filipinos, was clearly manifested when he risked coming here despite warnings from his Vatican security that there would be assassination attempts on his life while he is here, as evidenced by intelligence reports. He is very well aware of the danger that he makes it a point to request people to pray for him. He even said he prayed to Jesus before he left Vatican that should he die in the Philippines, to make it quick so he wouldn't feel the pain.

We are truly blessed to have Jesus' representative in the person of Pope Francis. Every move he makes, every statement he delivers move me to tears. There is such a magnificent aura that exudes from his being. We are fortunate to have experienced a personal encounter with a future saint.

MY " ASSIGNMENT " FOR THE DAY

I once read that we are given an "assignment" for the day by God. 

Sometimes, as we go about our daily routines, we might not be aware but subconsciously we are already fulfilling our "assignment" for the day. I guess that was what happened to me recently.

Last Saturday, I attended an anticipated mass. While the priest was giving his homily, an old man seated beside me suddenly felt dizzy. I noticed that while we were about to take our seats to listen to the homily, his teenaged daughter suddenly grabbed her father by the waist and said he got dizzy. She was frantically trying to call her mother on her cellphone, but the mom was not answering her call. I motioned to the mass assistants (in charge of leading churchgoers to their seats) standing by the entrance to ask for help, and one of the guys approached me. I told him the man was not feeling well and asked if they had a clinic, and if possible to call the doctor. He said he will call the nurse and left. A lady assistant approached me and I requested for a glass of water as I noticed that the man's lips were turning gray. I told the lady assistant to tell the nurse to bring a sphygmomanometer so she could check the patient's blood pressure. I was afraid he might be suffering from a mild stroke. After about 5 minutes, the security guard came with a wheelchair. The man told me that he would just walk, but I insisted that he use the wheelchair in going to the clinic as he might be to weak to walk.

As they wheeled him out, he turned to me and managed to say in a very faint voice " thank you." The daughter apologized for the trouble. I told her not to mind it and just take care of her father. Her mother had already arrived by then.

After they left, the assistants were wondering why I stayed behind. As the mass was still ongoing, I opted to stay. Otherwise, I would have gone with them to the clinic. All the while the assistants thought he was my father as I was the one worried over him, and taking care of his needs. I told them I was just extending help to the man and his daughter.

Then I noticed that the visiting image of Our Lady of the Rosary (La Naval) was at the side of the altar. She would just be staying overnight and would be returned to Sto. Domingo church the following morning. She probably made it possible that I be seated beside the man so I could extend some help to him in whatever capacity I can. Most likely, that was my "assignment" for the day, and I could only hope I was able to do what was expected of me.

After the mass, I queued in front of the image of Our Lady so I could pray to her. In front of her image was a vase full of white daisies. I took a single stem so I could bring it home and offer it to the image of Our Lady of the Pillar which I have at home. It had been my habit to bring home a flower for her from among the flowers offered in church. That night, as I was checking my phone's calendar, I was reminded that the following day was the feast of Our Lady of the Pillar which escaped my mind. What a timely reminder that was, and I sure was glad I brought home a gift/ flower for her.

I know some people might say the events that took place that afternoon were just coincidence. I beg to disagree though. I don't believe in coincidence, but I do believe in destiny. I know I was destined to help that man, and the things that took place after were bound to happen. It was part of God's master plan for me.

I thank Jesus and Mama Mary for having made me their instrument once again.

MY PIANDRE FAMILY ( PART II )

This is a sequel to the first article I wrote about Piandre (kindly refer to my article dated December 23, 2011) also in this blog. I just cannot help but admire the exemplary character (humility and good-naturedness) of the people behind it, the Zulueta family.

I had been patronizing Piandre (whom I regard as my second family) for the past 13 years or so. As mentioned in my previous article, what really endeared them to me (aside from the expertise of their internationally-trained stylists and ever gracious staff) is the spirituality of the owners, which is something worth emulating. 

For those who have not visited the salon, this is the only business establishment I know wherein the "3 o'clock prayer" is recited every day. At exactly 3:00 p.m., everything is at a standstill as everyone (led by a voice-over) stops to pray. Mrs. Linda Z. Francisco (founder of Piandre) is a devotee of the Divine Mercy. Aside from this daily ritual, the family also enhances the spiritual growth of their employees thru their annual "Blessing of the Hands" and recollection.

Piandre celebrated it's 27th anniversary last July 2014. As a way of expressing gratitude to their loyal clientele, they gave a month-long 27% anniversary discount on all services offered in all branches.

Last August 6, 2014, I was privileged to have been invited to a "Meet and Greet" get-together in honor of the "most valued clients" (as the invitation indicates) of the Greenbelt branch. It was an honor to be regarded as one. 

The Zulueta family (Mrs. Linda Z. Francisco and daughters Aina and Drea, together with only son Jaton) was present, with the exception of daughter Peachy who now resides in Switzerland. 

Mrs. Francisco thought of this get-together because they wanted to have a closer relationship with their clients and get to know them on a personal basis. 

A brief history of the salon which was established in 1987, was presented by Drea including the origin of the name Piandre ( a combination of the names of Peachy, Aina and Drea). She also introduced their latest products including the ones they distribute. Mrs. Francisco explained why they are not open for franchising. Since their primary concern is the interest and well-being of their customers, they are afraid this might be jeopardized should a franchisee be unable to sustain it, and thus destroy the trust and harmonious relationship they have painstakingly nurtured over the years. It is also worthwhile mentioning that they not only take care of their clients, but of their staff as well, as evidenced by the creation of a multi-purpose cooperative for their employees.

A sumptuous merienda followed the presentation. Also, as a token of appreciation, they gifted each one of us with an "Acts of Love" leather-bound diary where we can chronicle the love and kindness we extend to others on a day to day basis. We were also given some of their latest products.

My monthly visits to the salon is always filled with anticipation as I am so much at home here. It is truly a home away from home. 

Now more than ever, I can say that truly, good things happen to good people, as attested by the success of Piandre.

More power to the management and the Greenbelt staff. Wishing you more success and continuous blessings. 

THE POWER OF WORDS (THIS MADE MY DAY.)

They say words can either make or break you.

Sometimes, all it takes are two simple, but powerful words, to change the way you look at things or perceive life to be.

I attended mass this afternoon. I was seated at the last row with the aisle at my right. When the mass was about to start, the usher politely asked if I could move one seat to the left to give way to an elderly man who was walking very slowly with the aid of two canes. He was alone, which made me wonder why a seemingly disabled person would be allowed to walk around by himself. It is quite normal to see senior citizens limping with the aid of a cane, but with two canes, his might be a serious case after all. He was a bit stocky, so I pulled up the kneeler so it would be more convenient for him to glide easily into his seat. It took quite a while before he could finally take his seat as I saw the look on his face, grimacing in pain when he slowly tried to sit. He remained seated all throughout the mass, as I could only surmise that he feels pain whenever he moves his back, his hips, or any part of his body for that matter.

When communion time came, he tried very hard to stand. I tried to support his back as I was afraid he might lose his balance. The usher then came over and advised him that they will just request a lay minister to administer communion to him so he wouldn't have to stand and line up at the aisle. After everyone had finished, the lay minister went to him and gave him communion.

When the mass was almost over, he turned to me and said, "Thank you for sharing your seat." I asked if he was alone and he said his wife is with him but is seated somewhere else since there is only one vacant seat in our pew. After the mass, the usher and I helped him get up and I waited till his wife came to be with him.

I was so touched when he said, "Thank You". It is rather uncommon to hear people say that when you allow latecomers to squeeze beside you in an otherwise filled up pew. This is a perfect example of someone who knows how to be grateful, something most people take for granted.

What is more admirable though, and a complete sacrifice on his part if I may say so, is his willingness to attend mass despite the difficulty he has in walking, plus the pain he has to endure every time he stands or sits. I offered a prayer that he be healed completely.

I would also like to say "Thank You" to him. Thank you for being cognizant of even the smallest things people do for you, for going out of your way to attend mass, not minding the hardships you have to endure, and most of all, for making me realize that despite the negative things happening in the world today, there is still someone who makes this world a beautiful place to live in.

Lastly, "Thank You" for making my day. Those two simple but powerful words are music to my ears.

YOU MADE US PROUD, MICHAEL

The first time I took notice of Michael Christian Martinez was when I saw a picture of this 17-year old young man hoisting the Philippine flag at the Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia. He was the lone Philippine representative, unlike in the Summer Olympics where we send an entire delegation. He looked so proud as he waved the country's tri-colors at the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics. It was an honor that for the first time, we not only had a Philippine representative to the figure-skating event, but the first Southeast Asian representative as well.

What amazed me even more, after having read the story of how this young man ended up being a participant, was not only his determination, but the sacrifice and hardships he had to endure just to be able to compete. In a country where snow is non-existent, it is extremely difficult for a figure skater to practice his craft. What's more, we only have two skating rinks in the country located in the SM malls. Due to lack of funds, he could not afford to hire a coach. His mother even had to mortgage their house to be able to purchase a ticket to Sochi. Despite the obstacles, he was determined to represent the country, relying only on his faith and the rosary that he always carries with him.

It is very disappointing that as reports had it, he got no support from the government, but only from some cause-oriented groups and businessmen. The POC and the PSC were quick to dispute that by saying they gave some aid, but did they really or were they just being defensive. His mom said they may not be able to continue his training for the 2018 Olympics due to lack of funds to defray the expenses that go along with it. I hope next time, the government gives him the much needed support for his training.

On the night of the competition, as he so gracefully executed his moves to the background of Romeo and Juliet, I had goose pimples watching him perform amidst the applause of the audience. I felt a sense of pride knowing this young man is a Filipino. He was after all competing for the Philippines and not for himself anymore. At that particular moment, all I ever prayed for was for him to qualify for the semi-finals, which was his dream in the first place. It did not matter anymore if he won a medal or not. He did make all of us proud by qualifying in the semi-final round and landing on the 19th place out of  24 semi-finalists.

He may not have gotten that elusive medal, but he gained the attention of the whole world, and most importantly their respect.

As for the lack of support from the government, that is already water under the bridge.

He left the country quietly, but now that he has carved a name for himself, I am pretty sure when he comes home, everyone will be scampering to interview him, inviting him for television appearances, and in all possibility might even be invited to the Palace for hand shaking and photo ops. That much needed attention and recognition of his talent should have been accorded him when he was still in training, and not after the fact. Another case of too late the hero.    

Carry on Michael. I know you have set your sight on 2018. The Filipino people will be behind you all the way and we will all be praying that in God's time, you will finally realize your dream of bringing home an Olympic medal.

Win or lose, we will always be proud of you. Keep the faith, that is your strength.



  

TIME TO BURST THOSE INFLATED EGOS

The situation in Zamboanga have kept the whole nation perturbed for the past days. We are all praying for a peaceful negotiation to end this crisis. Everyday we wake up anxious to find out if a truce had finally been declared between the two adversaries.

It is so sad to see our men in uniform taking an offensive and risking their lives for the country. What makes the situation even worse, is the scarcity of food allotted for them. It was so depressing to see a picture of three soldiers sharing a meal consisting of one cup of rice and a piece of dried fish (tuyo). Our gratitude goes to good Samaritans out there for donating food for our soldiers. Such is the sad plight of our soldiers, while those in the top brass of the AFP wallow in luxury. ( I wonder what happened to the Garcia and Ligot cases.)

A possible ceasefire could have taken place yesterday, but failed to materialize due to lack of proper coordination and communication, so the government claims. Was such really the case, or was it because the people in charge of the situation and negotiation simply did not want to be outshone by the other? Was it because they belong to different political parties, not to mention that the top two protagonists have set their sights on the 2016 Presidential election?

Does it really matter who will emerge as the hero in the eyes of the people, or is it more important to save lives? After all, the number one criterion is that the negotiator must be someone the MNLF trusts. It could be you, me or an ordinary Juan dela Cruz. We are talking about lives here. What makes it doubly sad is that it is a case of Filipinos pitted against fellow Filipinos. We must remember that the MNLF maybe our antagonists here but they are Filipinos just the same, much more human beings too. We must try to save as much lives as we can regardless of whether they are on our side or on the other side of the fence.

I am sure both the government troops and the rebels do not want to be in this situation either. They also long for peace, but they have no choice but to obey orders from their commanders just like good soldiers do.

To our leaders in government, it is time to make a stand and burst your inflated egos. Put aside your political differences and ambitions for a while, and make saving lives your top priority. Give way to whoever is the better peace negotiator, so once and for all a ceasefire can be declared in the earliest time possible. Time is of the essence and we can no longer afford to lose more lives, be those of our soldiers, rebels and more importantly, innocent civilians.