Miracle even for non-believer

In my previous article Crisis of Faith and Christmas Miracle, my mom believed that her prayers were answered on that Christmas day. People who heard the story said it was her strong faith that made it happened .What about a miracle for a non-believer?

This is a story of my brother.

After my father died, my mom decided to bring the family back to our province.
She was a young widow then and she was afraid of raising the brood in a big City. But my brother had a freak accident that crippled him from waist down. Not even the well-known "manghihilots ng pilay" in Magarao, can make him walk again.

Like a mother-hen, she brought us all to the City in her efffort to seek medication for my brother.

The cost of the surgery at the Orthopedic was beyond our reach. The prognosis was a misalignment of the hipbone due to his fall. Worse was, flesh had already covered the affected part. The flesh had to be removed before the bones
would be brought back to their original positions.

My mom knocked at every doorstep of some relatives who were beneficiaries of my generous grandmother's charitable acts.

One wanted our jeepney, pur only source of income.Talking about "ginigipit para kumapit sa patalim.".

In her desperation, she asked my brother who was a non-believer, to go to Quiapo and pray.

With the assistance from other siblings, he did what he considered hopeless.

So he did pray. He went home. The next day, he got up from bed. He walked. He forgot that he was cripple for months.

My mom sighed a prayer of thanks. She promised she would go to Quiapo every
first Friday of January. She did not care if she went home late in the night after the procession.






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Crisis of Faith and the Christmas Miracle

I never wear a new dress for Christmas although I bought several for the occasion when I was still socially active attending a lot of parties. I wore them before Christmas eve. But for the actual Christmas day, you can see me wearing an old dress.

It was several Christmases ago when I was still a grader and my father was still alive when I adopted this self-imposed Christmas tradition of wearing old dress and giving food to our less fortunate relatives/neighbors.

I may have blogged about this but i can’t find it at the moment. I will be going to the hospital in a few hours from now for my CATscan and I thought that I might as well write the story again.

My father lost his job in December that year. He was assigned in Palawan and he could not bear the loneliness and homesickness being away from the family. Usually when he found a new job, he would relocate us after a few months. But not in the far-flung place. So he came home and never went back.

December was the worst month for job hunting.For the next few weeks, we subsisted on the savings of my mom. I still can remember that big red mail-box shaped-alkansiya full of coins that she kept near the family altar. (It is only now I realized why she did not want to keep any piggy bank in our home after that year. She believed that every time she had savings, some misfortunes happened to the family).

Some few hours before the Christmas eve, she instructed us to get dressed. Our Sunday dress. We got no new clothes for Christmas, no toys and not even a noche buena.

When I was older, she confessed that she suffered from the crisis of faith when we had only a few pesos left before Christmas. As an atonement and also to save some money for hot pan de sal, she convinced us to walk up to Quiapo.

We did enjoy walking, stopping every now and then to admire the Christmas decors and lights along the way.

All the time, what was running in my mind was the explanation I was preparing for my classmates when I go back to school after the holidays without a new dress to show. That’s Christmas for kids, isn’t it? New dress, new shoes and toys.

After the mass ,we went near the altar where there was this belen and the Infant Jesus “was wrapped in the swaddling clothes”. It impressed shame on my young mind that while the birthday celebrant was not wearing ostentatious clothes worthy for a King, there I was thinking of the perception of my snooty classmates about me having no new dress.

We came home. No one was in the house. My father was looking for us waiting at the bus stop. The table was laden with food courtesy of our neighbors.Then the miracle which I could only comprehend by listening to the conversation of the adults while enjoying the sumptous noche buena.

MY eldest brother who was growing up to be an atheist even he was still in high school, went to church not to attend mass. He joined the car-watch-boys in the church premises. After the mass, my brother’s “client” handed him the money and sped away. In the space when the car was, he saw an envelope with a Christmas card. The name written on top was his nickname. No last name. He opened the envelope, hoping that he could get the address of the car owner who had just left. Nothing. Just the name of the giver. That’s the name of my sister.
And inside the card was money. Big money. Much as he wanted to give it back, he had no clue to whom.

So we had Merry Christmas that year. Another good news was my father got a job. Yes, even though it was December. My mom kept the card. She bought yards of fabric and sewed me two beautiful dresses for the New Year. One was colored white with lavender flowers and the other one was with orange prints. Yep, I could remember even the styles because for me those were the beautiful dresses I had for a Christmas.



This is a repost from my NWC's December 18 entry.






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You Pray, HE listens-Life of miracles or coincidences?

Life is mysterious. Many coincidences, little miracles that we ignore.

A missed bus that had a road accident, a friend’s unexpected call when you are in a crisis and it’s only who can give the little push up…

It may be coincidence, or it may be an innocent prayer heard…

Have you experienced being hungry and you have only a few pesos bills in your pocket? What did you do?

Guess what this fine young man, a BA Journalism student of UP did when he was hungry and wet and all he had was a few pesos that were not enough to buy a meal.

It was nearing 8 p.m. when I went out the house with a grumbling stomach and a 20-peso bill. Of course, I couldn’t buy food with such meager amount. But it’s the only bill I had left; I planned of withdrawing at the nearest ATM.

Too bad all five were either offline, out of order, or did not transact business with my bank. Grr. So I went to the Shopping Center, with the PNB ATMs as last resort. And guess what, it was no good either. Wouldn’t accept my card. Penniless, stomach grumbling loudly, and (worse) the rain pouring suddenly, I went back to Philcoa. What I had left in my pocket now was six pesos, thus I decided to go home and just rob my Piknik bank to have something to eat (not necessarily from fast food restos). I was already starving!

Then, just as I climbed out of the jeep, I went inside Jollibee in an impulse.

I prayed Patrick, one of my roommates, would be there, eating, so I could borrow money from him. Of course, it was quite impossible, but I went inside anyway for no apparent reason, perhaps just to take a rest for a while.

Sure, there was no Patrick inside. Just a Paul. My other roommate. Luck!

So there I was, fifteen minutes later, eating spaghetti.

Pray. It works! He listens!

This was originally posted in my Journey of the Soul.


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The Deer in the Highway

There are times when I have a question to God for which I want an instant reply.
So I asked Him for a sign.

Last week, something's bothering me. I prayed and asked God what's going to happen. I
raised the question answerable by yes or no.

That weekend, my brother decided to bring me to Shenandoah Park. He wanted me to see the changing colors of fall. While on our way, to the park, I asked for the sign that is impossible to happen. I do not ask for things that I can easily see. I asked to see a deer. I haven’t seen one ever since I came to the US. Not only a deer, but a deer on a highway which is not running so I can see it very well. I imagined that the deer will be in the middle of the road. Silly me. Yes, typical me.

I did not see one, in the park. All I saw was a caterpillar being photographed by a Chinese couple. You see, you can write in a log-book of your sightings. I could have written that I saw an eagle but I forgot because I was more absorbed looking at the
grasshopper which brought me to reminisce my childhood when I used to catch this little insect in a grassy area we used as playground.

I thought my question will never be answered. We drove home. My brother slowed down. In the middle of the highway was a deer. Not one but two. They were not moving not because they stopped for me to see them. They're dead.

I asked my brother, how they were still sideswiped by fast moving vehicles when they are fast runners. My dad earned that monicker, usa, because he run fast especially when my mom was after him with a palo-palo.

Brod told me that they’re blinded by the light, so they stopped in the middle and cars may not be able to break on time to avoid them.

The sight of the two animals answered my question I asked to God.

Then when I was in bed, I saw something spectacular happened in my little altar. I blinked several times. I pinched myself if I was dreaming. I thought, I saw it moved, not only moved but circled. Whatever it is, I won’t tell you. You must brand me crazy.

When people are in the “limbo” a small candle of hope is like a 1,000 -watt bulb. But I know that we never really are left alone by GOD even in our saddest moments.

What about you? Do you also experience little miracles?



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