Our years are like leaves
that float to the ground
in colors of emeralds
and amber of brown
and blessed are they
whose "leaves" as they fall,
form a blanket of beauty
that confronts us all!
-John C. Bonser
When my mother died, the family donated the money raised during her memorial to her favorite charity, a congregation of nuns in that small town in Southern Luzon . Last time, I visited the Philippines, my sister Ruby brought me to their convent where I met the mother superior and the nun who assumed my mother's first name when she took her vows.
From then on, she would send me handwritten letters and cards on special occasions.
She sent me a message during those trying times when I lost my job and almost died due to undiagnosed diabetes. Twice, I passed out in the bathroom. I did not know what caused it. When I went to see the doctor, he said that SOMEONE UP THERE must be watching over me. I could have died or fall into a coma due to my untreated high blood sugar level.
Sor Nellie sent me a message that she was offering her prayers for me during these trying times.
Then one day a friend who also became hooked to helping these little nuns called me up to inform me about the news. She's gone. Cancer. All the while she was giving me words of comfort, she had also her own battle to fight.
Her name would be forgotten by many but not of these little nuns who would remember her in their prayers.
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