8.27.2007

for ivy

her father sold his motorcycle when she was born. this was to get her room airconditioned. her older sister's nanny was now hers: as she was more tiny and needed more pampering. and she looked like her mother, fair and beautiful.

once upon a time, there was a girl who dreamt of domestic bliss. she dreamed this during a time when children were expected to dream of wearing corporate suits and climbing corporate ladders. dreaming to be a doctor or a lawyer would not have been bad too. yet she dreamed of house cleaning and doing the laundry.

being the youngest of a brood of 3, she was often teased for being a crybaby. yet she was loved, like nobody in the family was loved before. it seemed she always got her way, but it was more because somebody else always gave way. she did not ask for it; she was just lovable. even kids smaller than her adored her.

the girl loved to draw. she could draw anime characters, but mostly without eyes. she'd say she would ruin the drawing if she drew the eyes too.

and she loved dogs. and would have liked to own several. and thought not just once of becoming a dog breeder.

and boy, she loved dressing up. she always took care of how she looked. and she could not have enough clothes or shoes, or bags or accessories. it did not matter that these things would fill up her room, nothing would really be appropriate for any given occasion.

as much as possible, the girl was always protected from life's harsh realities. but her battles would not always be fought for her. that's just the way it was. if it had been otherwise, things would have been less fun for her.

so she learned to love, hate and love deeper. she learned loyalty and friendship. she learned hard work and shame. she learned how to hold on and how to let go. she learned to have fun and live life. she learned to sing. and she learned how to cook.

the girl grew up to be a very beautiful person. and is still growing up, continually learning new things.

looking at her 24 years past, God has been faithful. i have always been subtly protective of her (fine, it might have been very obvious at times) and i wait in silent excitement as i watch how her life continues to unfold, all by God's grace.

this is for the girl who will always be my little sister. and i write for her because she forgets easily, unintentionally, readily. a happy birthday to a sorely missed and dear friend, my shobe.

8.24.2007

kulit ni jessie hahaha!

8.22.2007

a prayer

dear God of all, Lover of my soul ---

still my heart: in the midst of life's motions.
quiet my mind: when discontentment stirs.

make my fingers gentle: so each touch be a glimpse of Your love.
grow my arms: to embrace the hurting. (as You embrace me when it is i)

help me love the way You do: giving, unconditional, without end.

8.20.2007

festivity

*

Then the Bishop pronounced them man and wife. Hana was watching Honoo kiss his bride. She wished it had been her. But certain things just couldn't be.

Honoo was of the Fire family. And she, a Flower.

Both races were so strict about intermarriages. And it was because of a very practical reason: a union would put one to death: a Fire burning a loved Flower or a radiant Flower's dews put out a beloved Fire.

So when Hana saw Honoo the first time, when his family visited the forrest she grew up in, she knew she could only love him with a silent love.

Spring was when her petals turn bright purple. And each year, Honoo would visit the forrest when summer came. She would watch Honoo play with his friends in her blue dress. She was content with loving him from afar.

Then one year, when autumn was nearing and orange coiffed her gloriously, she saw Honoo hold a young pretty Fire's hand. She knew then she had to at least let Honoo know she loved him.

She went to her father and asked if she could let Honoo know. She was, of course, refused. And refused every single time after because her father loved her so. And her father couldn't bear his Hana dying.

Every year after, Honoo's visit broke Hana's heart: Honoo's love grew for his beloved Fire and he never knew of Hana's love. Hana would cry each night and would dream of a way to make her love known to Honoo. Her father heard her cries.

Hana, laced in golden hue, went to witness Honoo's wedding. And she celebrated with him. After, when the ceremonies ended, she declared her love for Honoo. Just that single time.

Every summer, when the sun's heat is the most scorching and the night skies the clearest, the Japanese people remember Hana's declaration of love to Honoo on his wedding day.

For it was that time when Hana's own father granted her wish, that her love be known to Honoo, fleeting the moment might be:

Hana's father kissed her one last time. He then ushered in a friend Fire who whispered a prayer in Hana's ear. Hana floated in the clear night sky and burst into a thousand million golden ashes a little after a flower of different colors was born out of fire --- the hanabi.

8.17.2007

writers, they just write

read this in a forwarded email:

when in doubt, just take the next small step.