Monday, July 9, 2012

What Goes Around Comes Around


This heartwarming story has circulated around the globe for hundreds of times, but because of its very pleasant effect to the heart, we will republish it here in this site.

Here's your heart and mind boosting story, courtesy of henna96.blogspot.com:

He was tired and aching and on his way home from a long day at work, so he almost didn't see the old lady stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His old Pontiac was still sputtering as he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry.

He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was a chill which only fear can put in you.

He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson."

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire.

As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.

Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.

Bryan never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.

He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, "Pass it on."

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her.

The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan ..

After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin.

There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote:

"This isn't a tip, it's a gift. You don't owe me anything. Somebody once helped me out and if you feel you want to pay me back, don't let this chain of love end with you, pass it on."

Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it to closing time.

That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard....

She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a gentle kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson."

There is an old saying "What goes around comes around."


                                                  --- Author Unknown ---

Passion in Action


Passion is a thing that anyone wants to do, not for the money or any other thing but the mere pleasure and gratification for doing it.  Passion is a driving force, a source of dedication and innate energy that propels a person to do the things he loves.

Great men who excel in science, business, arts, Technology, and sports like Einstein, Bill Gates, Michael Jackson, Steven Jobs, Michael Jordan and our very own Manny Pacquiao, among others, made their way to excellence not because of mere talent alone.  An even greater inner hunger drove them to push themselves to the limits just because they love and enjoy what they do.  And it's not strange to see them doing it even when the rest have long gone to sleep. 

That's passion; passion that begets excellence, passion that makes one learn from experience, from others, and from his own mistakes.  Passion is the thing that gives one the power to formulate strategies then visualizes himself applying those in specific situations.  Through consistent practice, he masters them with or without the help of others and applies them naturally in real life.

That's how passion makes one a star in his chosen field or career.

As a child, I had this passion to play basketball to the dismay of my father who wanted to see bury my face in the pages of my textbooks or help him in the farm on weekends. 

We were living in an uptown agricultural village and I seldom see kids playing basketball because poverty drove each one of them to the farms to help their parents.  But it did not discourage me. 

I begged my mother to buy me a basketball so that I can play even when I'm alone.  When my father took me to the farm, my next destination as we got home after 4:00 pm was the public basketball court, where I played to my heart's desire after the big boys were through, which always happened after sunset. But I played nevertheless, until I can no longer see the ball.

There was a time when my father got so pissed off that he chopped my ball into two with a bolo.

But it didn't stop me.  I really loved basketball to the point that I was skipping lunch on weekends just to continue with my passion; I knew I would not be allowed to go back to the playing court once I got home.

I was about 16 or 17 when I began to reap the fruits of my efforts.  I became a village star for my "university" playing style.  During this time, I was already studying in the city and I just imitated and mastered the playing styles of my favorite university players. 

I was just one of the few boys from our poor village to get the chance to get a college education.  I am thankful that my passion didn't, although it almost, ruined my father's plan for me.

I did excel in basketball, the greatest passion I ever had.  I had a vertical leap of about two feet, I can take off from the free throw line and lay the ball in through and under the arms of taller defenders; and I can float for a few seconds, the way Michael Jordan did a few years later.

All my feats during those days are now part of a memory that I treasure.   They also made me realize that to pursue a dream, one must move and act.  I could have gone farther were it not for my stature that deterred coaches from taking me in.  I was only 5'0" then with a body that weighed only 110 pounds.  I am now 5'3" weighing 135 pounds. :)

But I had a second passion which I did when the weather did not permit me to play; and it is writing.  It's the passion that has opened a lot of doors for me after retirement - even if I don't possess a degree in journalism.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Fury of the Past


As a child, I always looked up to my parents as my only source of inspiration and love. I can still remember how I loved to personify my father's strength of character and wisdom in dealing with the elderly in our small community; for they looked up to him as the epitome of stoic will, determination and innate intelligence.

He came from a destitute family who believed that life is all about eating, drinking and dying, but my father’s indifference to the ignorant beliefs of his elders made him struggle to find education beyond his parents' disapproval. In order to be able to attend elementary school, he volunteering to work as a duck-tender for a "landed" relative at a tender age of eight.

He drove the fowls to the river each morning and he swum his way to the flock each afternoon in order to bring them back home. He was not treated and fed well, and he walked miles each day on bare feet and ragged clothes just to be able to attend school. Yet his early cognizance of the hardships of poverty drove him to stay to achieve what he wanted: a simple elementary education which he completed when he was fifteen.

With the accomplishment of that simple ambition, he made another quest - to finish high-school, and with that ardent desire, he proceeded to our province's capital city to work as a dishwasher and all-around-worker for another relative who happened to own a small eatery. These he did just to earn a place to stay, little food to keep him up and some loose change for his needs in school, as public elementary and high schools in the Philippines are free.

He eventually finished high-school at second place and years later, he joined the U.S. Armed Forces in the Philippines to fight for democracy against the Japanese. This feat had made him "the big fish in a small pond" in our little place.

My mother was my father's "little dummy" whose dedication and love for her husband easily transformed her from a landowner's daughter to a doting wife whose only direction in life is to love and to follow her husband's way. They could have easily complimented each other had it not been for my father's bitterness of his sad past.

My father was a good provider. He was a man of strict principles and he had a vision.

Although quite successful and respected, my father's past drove him angry and full of hate; we had become the innocent receivers of his past frustrations in life. He was easily irritated and his moods were unpredictable. Beyond idolizing his principles, we were very tense in his mere presence.

I adored my father, but his character had setup the distance between us. I can never recall a day that my father had hugged me (or anyone of us six siblings) much less tell me that he loved me. It could have been the greatest reassurance that I as a child, can get from a parent, no matter how angry he might have been with something or someone else.

Growing up as a teenager, I cannot avoid the feeling of envy upon seeing my peers being casually talked to by their parents, who sometimes give them tips how to woo their first love, or advise them not to give in too strong, because they know the pain it would give when things go wrong.

As a kid, I was afraid of even fighting for myself because I never felt that my father will stand up for me when I'm in trouble. I was more afraid of the punishment that may come than to stand up to confront my aggressor. I am a very obedient son. My father told me to always stay out of trouble. He never told me that when we are right, sometimes we have to stand up to fight and be a "man" without getting punished.

My father was a well-read fellow even in that remote countryside. The folks looked up to him because of his knowledge and sound opinions. He is the village adviser on almost every aspect and he could have easily been the best in my young eyes had he overcame the ghost of his past. And he could have been at peace with himself and everyone else, and he could have told me that living the present moment each and everyday is the best way to savor the only life that God has given us. The past needs to be forgiven for what it was.

I still admire my father. His teachings have rooted deeply inside my heart. But I have taken steps to modify a few things that need to be changed, and that is to demonstrate and express my unconditional love to my wife and children, to stand by them beyond a wholesome discipline, and to forgive the past that had shrouded me, for living in the past only hurts me more rather than give me the vindication I wanted to see.

Despite his weaknesses, my father's strengths had helped to instill the best of values that he wanted me to exude in my life. These are honesty, self-reliance, respect, godliness, truthfulness, perseverance and determination, among many.

His stern character has taught me that it is not fear, but love which is the strongest bond that ties the family together.

His calloused nature made me realize that it is the parents' assurance of support which is the spring that nourishes their children's confidence.

But the best thing I learned was to forgive the past for what it was and strive to make it a trophy for what I would be today or tomorrow.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Thinking Aloud II...


If I am I because I am I
and you are you because you are you
then I am and you are

But...

If I am I because you are you
and you are you because I am I
Then I am not and you are not...

* * *

Wisdom knows because
it can see
beyond what we can perceive;
it can hear
beyond what we can listen to;
it can feel
beyond what we can sense;
it can search
beyond what we can find;
it can understand
beyond what we can fathom.

Wisdom knows because
Wisdom is the reflection
of the Perfection of God...

* * *
Seek your self
Read the signs

Look for them on the ground
Search for them in the skies

If you can't see them while awake
Find them in your dreams

If you can't read them in people's minds
The signs are almost always found
In people's hearts

For it is not in palaces
Not in mansions
and not in high towers
That our souls can rest

For it is in the heart
That we can find our real home...


* * *

Saturday, July 18, 2009

What Matters Most...


If I have the gift of prophesy
and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge,
and if I have a faith that can move mountains
but have not love, I am nothing.

If I give all I possess to the poor
and surrender my body to the flames
but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast;
Love is not proud, Love is not rude, it is not self-seeking;
Love is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs;
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth;
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes,
always perseveres;

Love never fails, because Love is the spirit of God...

taken from the Holy Bible - 1Cor. 13: 2-8