Friday, November 9, 2007

Take Time For The Little Things

Take Time For The Little Things
© By Barbara S. Gosa

Take time...to notice the dewy web clinging cautiously to the morning grass.
Take time...to feel the fire's warm glow, and hear the crackling wood as it sparks randomly upwards.
Take time...to smell the sweet aroma of cookies wafting from the bustling kitchen.
Take time...to appreciate the laughter of children enjoying the first days of Spring.
Take time...to listen of the rushing stream as it glides swiftly under fallen limbs and over mossy pebbles.
Take time...to admire the diligence of the chattering squirrels seeking stores for their winter nests.
Take time...to wonder at the intricate crystal patterns frosting early morning windows.
Take time...to notice arid, shriveled leaves crunching with each step, along the tree-lined path.
Take time...to watch Autumn's crispness paint changes from branch to branch, decorating the landscape for a short time.
Take time...to feel the cool breeze blowing in the promise of a summer rain.
Take time...to hear the clicking crickets echoing in the blackness.
Take time...to count the stars as they emerge from the graying sky, one by one filling the dark.
Take time...to hear the lapping waves pound against the grainy surface, then recede in answer.
Take time...to enjoy the fragrant scents of blooming newness and life, sprouting an array of colors where brown slept many long months.
Take time...to follow a firefly as it winks across open-air chasing the evening silence.
Take time...to share a smile.
Take time...to give a hug.
Take time...to acknowledge a kindness.
Take time...to tell someone you care.
Take time...to say, I love you.

This Mountain of Mine By: Vickie L. Shrewsbury

Trapped between the old and new
In awe of what things I could do
If I had more money, and had more time
I would build upon this mountain of mine.

I run with laughter and a merry heart
Climbing to unknown faces there,
No compass or map to get back home
I'm a pioneer in a world of my own.

The terrain is steep, I stop to rest
Annoyed by the pounding in my chest.
Is the path I left behind still there?
I kept climbing, and didn't care!

Oh the beauty of open spaces!
Grassy hills and shady places!
Dividing each patch with split-rail fences
Photo's image, no match for the senses!

What drives me to this place and why?
Its physical beauty, I cannot deny,
Spiritually healing and effervescent,
With every visit, my mood more pleasant!

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

birthday ni 'Phong"

before ng inuman...

after na ng inuman...eto na mga 'itsuras namin...

L-R(Christian,King,Sir Richard,Phong"the celebrant" & Jeffrey) Ako yung "cynosure"

Thursday, October 25, 2007

A Tear to the Eye by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown


Barbara was driving her six-year-old son, Benjamin, to his piano lesson.

They were late, and Barbara was beginning to think she should have cancelled it. There was always so much to do, and Barbara, a night-duty nurse at the local hospital, had recently worked extra shifts.

She was tired. The sleet storm and icy roads added to her tension. Maybe she should turn the car around.

"Mom!" Ben cried. "Look!" Just ahead, a car had lost control on a patch of ice. As Barbara tapped the brakes, the other car spun wildly rolled over, then crashed sideways into a telephone pole.

Barbara pulled over, skidded to a stop and threw open her door. Thank goodness she was a nurse - she might be able to help these unfortunate passengers.

Then she paused. What about Ben? She couldn't take him with her. Little boys shouldn't see scenes like the one she anticipated. But was it safe to leave him alone? What if their car were hit from behind?

For a brief moment Barbara considered going on her way. Someone else was sure to come along. No! "Ben, honey, promise me you'll stay in the car!"

"I will, Mommy," he said as she ran, slipping and sliding toward the crash site. It was worse than she'd feared. Two girls of high school age are in the car. One, the blonde on the passenger side, was dead, killed on impact.

The driver, however was still breathing. She was unconscious and pinned in the wreckage. Barbara quickly applied pressure to the wound in the teenager's head while her practiced eye catalogued the other injuries. A broken leg, maybe two, along with probable internal bleeding. But if help came soon, the girl would live.

A trucker had pulled up and was calling for help on his cellular phone. Soon Barbara heard the ambulance sirens. A few moments later she surrendered her lonely post to rescue workers.

"Good job," one said as he examined the driver's wounds. "You probably saved her life, ma'am." Perhaps.

But as Barbara walked back to her car a feeling of sadness overwhelmed her, especially for the family of the girl who had died. Their lives would never be the same. Oh God, why do such things have to happen?

Slowly Barbara opened her car door. What should she tell Benjamin? He was staring at the crash site, his blue eyes huge. "Mom," he whispered, "did you see it?"

"See what, Honey?" she asked.

"The angel, Mom! He came down from the sky while you were running to the car. And he opened the door, and he took that girl out."

Barbara's eyes filled with tears. "Which door, Ben?"

"The passenger side. He took the girl's hand, and they floated up to Heaven together"

"What about the driver?"

Ben shrugged. "I didn't see anyone else."

Later, Barbara was able to meet the families of the victims. They expressed their gratitude for the help she had provided. Barbara was able to give them something more - Ben's vision.

There was no way he could have known what happened to either of the passengers. Nor could the passenger door have been opened; Barbara had seen its tangle of immovable steel herself. Yet Ben's account brought consolation to a grieving family. Their daughter was safe in Heaven. And they would see her again.

Atheist Couple by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown


There was an atheist couple who had a child. The couple never told their daughter anything about the Lord.
One night when the little girl was 5 years old, the parents fought with each other and the dad shot the mom right in front of the child.

Then, the dad shot himself. The little girl watched it all. She was then sent to a foster home. The foster mom was a Christian and took the child to church.

On the first day of Sunday School, the foster mom told the teacher that the girl had never heard of Jesus, and to have patience with her.

The teacher held up a picture of Jesus and said, "Does anyone know who this is?"
The little girl said, "I do, that's the man who was holding me the night my parents died."

Sunday, October 21, 2007

The Bear and The Two Travellers


The Bear and the Two Travelers
by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown


Two men were traveling together,
when a Bear suddenly met them on their path.
One of them climbed up quickly into a tree and concealed himself in the branches.
The other, seeing that he must be attacked, fell flat on the ground, and when the Bear came up and felt him with his snout, and smelt him all over, he held his breath, and feigned the appearance of death as much as he could.
The Bear soon left him, for it is said he will not touch a dead body.
When he was quite gone, the other Traveler descended from the tree, and jocularly inquired of his friend what it was the Bear had whispered in his ear.
"He gave me this advice," his companion replied.
"Never travel with a friend who deserts you at the approach of danger."

...busy.


Busy
by: Stephen Covey,
7 Habits of Highly Effective People

Once upon a time a very strong woodcutter ask for a job in a timber merchant, and he got it. The paid was really good and so were the work conditions.
For that reason, the woodcutter was determined to do his best.
His boss gave him an axe and showed him the area where he was supposed to work.
The first day, the woodcutter brought 18 trees
"Congratulations," the boss said. "Go on that way!"
Very motivated for the boss’ words, the woodcutter try harder the next day,
but he only could bring 15 trees.
The third day he try even harder, but he only could bring 10 trees.
Day after day he was bringing less and less trees.
"I must be losing my strength", the woodcutter thought. He went to the boss and apologized, saying that he could not understand what was going on.
"When was the last time you sharpened your axe?" the boss asked.
"Sharpen? I had no time to sharpen my axe.
I have been very busy trying to cut trees..."

An after hour story...

Hope
by: William M. Buchholz, M.D.,
Chicken Soup for the Surviving Soul

As I ate breakfast one morning, I overheard two oncologists conversing.
One complained bitterly, "You know, Bob, I just don't understand it. We used the same drugs, the same dosage, the same schedule and the same entry criteria. Yet I got a 22 percent response rate and you got a 74 percent. That's unheard of for metastatic cancer. How do you do it?"
His colleague replied, "We're both using Etoposide, Platinum, Oncovin and Hydroxyurea. You call yours EPOH. I tell my patients I'm giving them HOPE. As dismal as the statistics are, I emphasize that we have a chance."

Thursday, October 11, 2007

The Thirty Second Quiz

The Thirty Second Quiz
Author Unknown


Don't bother getting a pen and paper... just read... if you can't
answer them, just keep going.

1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.

2. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.

3. Name the last five winners of the Miss America contest.

4. Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer prize.

5. Name the last five Academy Award winners for Best Actor and Actress.

How did you do?

The point is, none of us remembers the headliners of yesterday. These are no second-rate achievers. They're the best in their fields. But the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten. Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.

Now here's another quiz. See how you do on this one:

1. Name three teachers who aided your journey through school.

2. Name three friends who helped you through a difficult time.

3. Name five people who have taught you something worth while.

4. Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.

5. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.

Easier?

The lesson?

The people who make a difference in your life aren't the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They're the ones who care.


(Wishing to all a BEAUTIFUL day!)

Steps To Happiness

Steps To Happiness
by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

Everybody Knows:
You can't be all things to all people.
You can't do all things at once.
You can't do all things equally well.
You can't do all things better than everyone else.
Your humanity is showing just like everyone else's.


So:
You have to find out who you are, and be that.
You have to decide what comes first, and do that.
You have to discover your strengths, and use them.
You have to learn not to compete with others,
Because no one else is in the contest of *being you*.

Then:
You will have learned to accept your own uniqueness.
You will have learned to set priorities and make decisions.
You will have learned to live with your limitations.
You will have learned to give yourself the respect that is due.
And you'll be a most vital mortal.

Dare To Believe:
That you are a wonderful, unique person.
That you are a once-in-all-history event.
That it's more than a right, it's your duty, to be who you are.
That life is not a problem to solve, but a gift to cherish.And you'll be able to stay one up on what used to get you down.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

There Is A Mountain Somewhere Near

There is a mountain somewhere near
The harbor of our love
Where I can go sometimes to view
Our marriage from above.




I see the vastness of the sea
Outside our sheltered bay,
With boats like toys upon the flat
Bare corrugated gray.



I see the shadows of the clouds,
An archipelago
That neither wind nor current breaks,
Nor charts of sea depths show.



I see the green of nearby hills,

The gardens on our land,
The cultivated wildness

Of nature shaped by hand.





I see the waves sweep up against the rocks upon our shore,
The white spume leaping, oh, so slow; the heart awaiting more.

And all the peace of happiness and passion sharp for life
Come slanting bright across the sky because you are my wife.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Rainbow...


The Colors Of Friendship
Adrain Iron Thunder



Once upon a time the colors of the world started to quarrel. All claimed that they were the best. The most important. The most useful. The most beautiful. The favorite.

Green said:
"Clearly I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was chosen for grass, trees and leaves. Without me, all animals would die. Look over the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority."

Blue interrupted:
"You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea. The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be nothing."

Yellow chuckled:
"You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety, and warmth into the world. The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no fun."

Orange started next to blow her trumpet:
"I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes, and papayas. I don't hang around all the time, but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking that no one gives another thought to any of you."

Red could stand it no longer he shouted out:
"I am the ruler of all of you. I am blood - life's blood! I am the color of danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into the blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the color of passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy."

Purple rose up to his full height:
He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."

Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace."

And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightening, thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.

In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak:
"You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and different? Join hands with one another and come to me."

Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined
hands.

The rain continued:
"From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign of hope for tomorrow." And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a Rainbow appears in the sky, to let us remember to appreciate one another.

St. Stanislaus Kostka


Stanislaus Kostka


Jesuit Novice Born October 28, 1550, Rostkowo
Died August 15, 1568, Rome Major shrine Rome
Feast August 15, November 13
Attributes lily, Jesuit habit, Jesus, Most Blessed Sacrament
Patronage Jesuit novices, students, Poland Saints
Portal Stanislaw Kostka, S.J. (28 October 1550 – 15 August 1568), was a Polish novice of the Society of Jesus. In the Catholic Church, he is venerated as Saint Stanislaus Kostka.
Born at Rostkowo, near Przasnysz, Poland, on 28 October 1550; died at Rome during the night of 14-15 August, 1568. He entered the Society of Jesus in Rome on his 17th birthday (28 October 1567), and is said to have foretold his death a few days before it occurred.
His father, Jan Kostka (John Kostka), was a senator of the Kingdom of Poland and Lord of Zakroczym; his mother was Malgorzata Kryska from Drobni (Margaret de Drobniy Kryska), the sister and niece of the Dukes Palatine of Masovia and the aunt of the celebrated Chancellor of Poland, Feliks Kryski (Felix Kryski). He was the second of seven children. His older brother Pawel Kostka (Paul Kostka) survived to be present at beatification ceremony of Stanislaus in 1605. At home, the two brothers were taught at firmness, even severity; its results were their piety, modesty, temperance, and submission. In 25 July of 1564, they arrived at Vienna with their tutor to attend the Jesuit college that had been opened four years before. Stanislaus was soon conspicuous, among his classmates during his 3 years of schooling, not only for his amiability and cheerfulness of expression, but also for his growing religious fervour and piety. His brother Paul said during the process of beatification: "He devoted himself so completely to spiritual things that he frequently became unconscious, especially in the church of the Jesuit Fathers at Vienna. It is true," added the witness, "that this had happened at home to my brother at Easter when he was seated at table with our parents and other persons." Among other practices of devotion he joined while at Vienna the Congregation of St. Barbara, to which many students of the Jesuit college belonged. If the confidences he then made to his tutor and later to a fellow-member of the Society at Rome are to be believed, it was Saint Barbara who brought two angels to him during the course of a serious illness, in order to give him the Eucharist. So much piety, however, did not please the older brother Paul; his exasperation led him to treat with violence the innocent Stanislaus. The latter finally lost patience, and one night after Stanislaus had again suffered the harsh comments and blows of his brother he turned on Paul with the words: "Your rough treatment will end in my going away never to return, and you will have to explain my leaving to our father and mother." Paul's sole reply was to swear violently at him.
Meantime the thought of joining the Society of Jesus had already entered his mind. It was six months, however, before he ventured to speak of this to the superiors of the Society. At Vienna they hesitated to receive him, fearing the tempest that would probably be raised by his father against the Society, which had just quieted a storm that had broken out on account of other admissions to the Company. Stanislaus quickly grasped the situation and formed the plan of applying to the general of the Society at Rome. The distance was five hundred leagues, which had to be made on foot, without equipment, or guide, or any other resources but the precarious charity that might be received on the road. The prospective dangers and humiliations of such a journey, however, did not alarm his courage. On the morning of the day on which he was to carry out his project he called his servant to him early and told him to notify his brother Paul and his tutor in the course of the morning that he would not be back that day to dinner. Then he started, exchanging the dress of gentleman for that of a mendicant, which was the only way to escape the curiosity of those he met. By nightfall Paul and the tutor comprehended that Stanislaus had fled as he had threatened. They were seized with a fierce anger, and as the day was ended the fugitive had gained a day over them. They started to follow him, but were not able to overtake him; either their exhausted horses refused to go further, or a wheel of their carriage would break, or, as the tutor frankly declared, they had mistaken the route, having left the city by a different road from the one which Stanislaus had taken. It is noticeable that in his testimony Paul gives no explanation of his ill-luck.
Stanislaus stayed for a month at Dillingen, where the provincial of that time, the Blessed Peter Canisius, put the young aspirant's vocation to the test by employing him in the boarding-school. He arrived 25 October, 1567 in Rome. As he was greatly exhausted by the journey, the general of the order, St. Francis Borgia, would not permit him to enter the novitiate of Saint Andrew until several days later. During the ten remaining months of his life, according the testimony of the master of novices, Father Giulio Fazio, 'he was a model and mirror of religious perfection. Notwithstanding his very delicate constitution he did not spare himself the slightest penance' ("Monument hist. Societatis Jesu, Sanctus Franciscus Borgia", IV, 635). 'He had such a burning fever his chest that he was often obliged to apply cold compresses. On the eve of the feast of St. Lawrence, Stanislaus felt a mortal weakness made worse by a high fever, and clearly saw that his last hour had come. He wrote a letter to the Blessed Virgin begging her to call him to the skies there to celebrate with her the glorious anniversary of her Assumption (ibid., 636). His confidence in the Blessed Virgin, which had already brought him many signal favours, was this time again rewarded; on 15 August, towards four in the morning, while he was rapt in pious utterances to God, to the saints, and to the Virgin Mary, his beautiful soul passed to its Creator. His face shone with the most serene light. The entire city proclaimed him a saint and people hastened from all parts to venerate his remains and to obtain, if possible, some relics' (ibid., 637).
The Holy See ratified his beatification in 1605; he was canonized on 31 December 1726. St. Stanislaus is a popular saint of Poland and many religious institutions have chosen him as the protector of their novitiates. The representations of him in art are very varied; he is sometimes depicted receiving Holy Communion from the hands of angels; sometimes receiving the Infant Jesus from the hands of the Virgin; or he is shown in the midst of a battle putting to flight the enemies of his country. At times he is depicted near a fountain putting a wet linen cloth on his breast. He is invoked for palpitations of the heart and for dangerous cases of illness (Cahier, "Caractéristiques des Saints").
This account has been drawn almost exclusively from the depositions of witnesses cited for the process of canonization of Stanislaus (cf. Archivio della Postulazione generale d. C. d. G., Roma). There is a portrait by Scipione Delfine and the oldest of St. Stanislaus in existence. Having probably been painted at Rome the year of his death, perhaps after death, it may be regarded as the best likeness. The face is strikingly Slavic, a fact that is not noticeable in his other portraits. He is also depicted by Pierre Le Gros the Younger is a polychromatic statue.
Pierre Legros, Statua di San Stanislao Kostka (1705), Sant'Andrea al Quirinale, RomaThere is a current High School in the Philippines in honor of St. Stanislaus Kostka. Noted Celebrities in the Philippines having attended the high school are; JB Magsaysay of Pinoy Big Brother, and the late Miko Sotto. The school is located on Katipunan Avenue in Loyola Heights, Queszon City, across from the campus of the Ateneo de Manila University, another Jesuit-run institution.
The high school campus of the Ateneo de Manila University around the Stanilaus Kostka chapel, noticeably at the center of the compound.
One of the junior campuses of the Jesuit school Xavier College in Melbourne, Australia, is named Kostka Hall

How Many Times

How Many Times?
by: Jessica Johnson, , Source Unknown

This poem is for my parents, who have done everything possible to encourage and support me in everything I do. This is my thank you.

How many times did you kiss me goodnight?
How many times did you tuck me in tight?
How many times did you carry me to bed?
How many bedtime stories have you read?
How many times did I wake you in fright?
How many times did I keep you up all night?
How many times did you watch me sleep?
How many times did you lie awake and weep?
How many times did you teach me to fly a kite?
How many times did I learn to ride a bike?
How many times did I beg for a pet?
How many times did you say, 'Not yet'?
How many times did we get in a fight?
How many times were you right?
How many times did I ask you why?
How many times did I make you cry?
How many times did you see a twinkle in my eye?
How many times did you lie?
How many times have you been proud?
How many times did I make you scream aloud?
How much money did I ask you for?
How many times did I ask for more?
How many times did you fix my hair?
How many times did you show you care?
How many times did you teach me to fish?
How many times did we make a wish?
How many times did we sing "Twinkle-twinkle-little-star"?
How many times did I learn to drive a car?
How many times does your little girl grow up?

Monday, July 30, 2007

excerpt...


This Child of Mine
by: Edgar A. Guest, Source Unknown

"I'll lend you for a little while
A child of mine," God said,
"For you to have the while he lives,
And mourn for when he's dead.

It may be six or seven years
Or twenty-two or three;
But will you 'till I call him back
Take care of him for me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you
And, should his stay be brief,
You'll have his lovely memories
As a solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return;
But there are lessons taught below
I want this child to learn.

I've looked the whole world over
In search for teachers true;
And from the throngs that crowd life's land,
I have chosen you.

Now, will you give him all your love
Nor think the labor vain?
Nor hate me when I come to take
This lent child back again?"

I fancied that I heard them say:
"Dear Lord, Thy will be done.
For all the joys Thy child will bring
The risk of grief we'll run.

We'll shower him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may.
And for the happiness we've known
Forever grateful stay.

But should Thy angel call for him
Much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
And try to understand."

anwangin,zambales


pictures from anawangin,zambales


pictures from anawangin,zambales

Comfort Zone


Comfort Zone
by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

I use to have a Comfort Zone
Where I knew I couldn't fail
The same four walls of busy work
Were really more like jail.

I longed so much to do the things
I'd never done before,
But I stayed inside my Comfort Zone
And paced the same old floor

I said it didn't matter,
That I wasn't doing much
I said I didn't care for things
Like diamonds, furs and such

I claimed to be so busy
With the things inside my zone,
But deep inside I longed for
Something special of my own.

I couldn't let my life go by,
Just watching others win.
I held my breath and stepped outside
And let the change begin.

I took a step and with new strength
I'd never felt before,
I kissed my Comfort Zone "goodbye"
And closed and locked the door.

If you are in a Comfort Zone,
Afraid to venture out,
Remember that all winners were
At one time filled with doubt.

A step or two and words of praise,
Can make your dreams come true.
Greet your future with a smile,
Success is there for you!

Bits of Wisdom


Bits of Wisdom
by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown


Love is grand; divorce is a hundred grand.
I am in shape. Round is a shape.

Time may be a great healer, but it's a lousy beautician.

Never be afraid to try something new. Remember, amateurs built the ark, professionals built the Titanic.

Conscience is what hurts when everything else feels so good.

Talk is cheap because supply exceeds demand.

Even if you are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.

Politicians and diapers have one thing in common. They should both be changed regularly and for the same reason.

An optimist thinks that this is the best possible world.

A pessimist fears that this is true.

There will always be death and taxes; however, death doesn't get worse every year.

In just two days, tomorrow will be yesterday.

I am a nutritional overachiever.

I am having an out of money experience.

I plan on living forever. So far, so good.

A day without sunshine is like night.

If marriage were outlawed, only outlaws would have in-laws.

It's frustrating when you know all the answers, but nobody bothers to ask you the questions.

The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right time, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.

Brain cells come and brain cells go, but fat cells live forever.

Age doesn't always bring wisdom. Sometimes age comes alone.

Life not only begins at forty, it also begins to show.

You don't stop laughing because you grow old. You grow old because you stopped laughing.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Giving Tree


Giving Tree

by: Shel Silverstein, Source Unknown



A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and play around it everyday. He climbed to the tree top, ate the apples, took a nap under the shadow. He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him.
Time went by. The little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree everyday. One day, the boy came back to the tree and he looked sad.
"Come and play with me," the tree asked the boy.
"I am no longer a kid, I don't play around trees anymore." The boy replied, "I want toys. I need money to buy them."
"Sorry, but I don't have money. But you can pick all my apples and sell them. So, you will have money." The boy was so excited.
He grabbed all the apples on the tree and left happily.
The boy never came back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad.
One day, the boy returned and the tree was so excited. "Come and play with me" the tree said.
"I don't have time to play. I have to work for family. We need a house for shelter. Can you help me?"
"Sorry, but I don't have a house. But you can chop off my branches to build your house."
So the boy cut all the branches of the tree and left happily. The tree was glad to see him happy but the boy never came back since then. The tree was again lonely and sad.
One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted. "Come and play with me!" the tree said.
The boy said, "I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself. Can you give me a boat?"
"Use my truck to build your boat. You can sail far away and be happy."
So the boy cut the tree truck to make a boat. He went sailing and never showed up for a long time.
Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years. "Sorry, my boy. But I don't have anything for you anymore. No more apples for you." the tree said.
"I don't have teeth to bite" the boy replied.
"No more truck for you to climb on"
"I am too old for that now" the boy said.
"I really can't give you anything. The only thing left is my dying roots." the tree said with tears.
"I don't need much now, just a place to rest. I am tired after all these years." the boy replied.
"Good! Old tree roots is the best place to lean on and rest. Come, come sit down with me and rest."
The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears.
This is a story of everyone. The tree is our parent. When we were young, we loved to play with Mom and Dad. When we grown up, we left them, only came to them when we need something or when we are in trouble. No matter what, parents will always be there and give everything they could to make you happy. You may think the boy is cruel to the tree but that's how all of us are treating our parents.
taguig, manila, Philippines
seeking God's perfect creations