An Easter to be Grateful for

“Wala na si Papa. (Papa is gone.)”, Marcia (my sister-in-law) told me over the phone when I called her back at about 3:30am on 30 April 2025. “May God rest his soul,” was all I could say. I couldn’t think of what else to say apart from asking what time Papa passed away. I didn’t even talk to Gio, my younger brother, to check on him. After that call, I didn’t go back to bed. I stayed in the living room, praying and asking for forgiveness. I shared some happy moments with Papa in that spot in our home when he visited us in 2017 for Chiara’s First Holy Communion. 

“Wala na si Papa”, I kept on saying like a distressed child to his parent as I prayed in church that day. The sense of loss is starting to make its presence felt. It carries on up to this time and beyond.

A few days ago, our Rosary group led the Via Lucis (Way of Light) in church. As the Way of the Cross showed the many stations of Jesus’ Passion and Death, the Way of Light featured numerous victories of the Risen Lord. As we meditated and moved from one station to another, I felt truly grateful that Jesus rose from the dead. St Paul once wrote that if Jesus did not resurrect then our faith would be futile (cf.1 Cor 15:14). However, my gratefulness is more on a personal note. The void that my family and I have been experiencing with Papa’s death has been filled up by the Lord’s Resurrection. 

By His rising from the dead, our faith has been strengthened that though Papa has passed away, he shall live (cf. Jn 11:25); our hope has been renewed that he will not be lost, but will be raised up by Christ on the last day (cf. Jn 6:39); and our charity has been sustained that in the end God will bring an end to death, mourning, crying, or pain and make all things new (cf. Rev 21:4-5). 

This Easter experience is not only revealed to me by Sacred Scriptures, but also through the encounter with family and friends who reached out during these difficult times. When news got out that Papa has passed away, our closest friends made a surprise visit to check on us. They met Papa previously and have high regard for him. Seeing them and listening to their stories felt like they also lost a loved one. Another friend, while in Manila last summer, attended Papa's inurnment and sent me photos. It's as though as I was there too. Fellow parishioners too, both known and unknown to me, offered a word of condolence or assured me of their prayers. I am touched that the parish considered Papa as though he was part of the community when they announced his passing in the newsletter and included him in the annual Remembering Service in November last year. 

“Wala na si Papa” was what my heart was saying. His response: “rise up to the occasion” (some advice he once told me ages ago). I am reminded of St Francis’ Prayer, to bring love where there is hatred, pardon where there is injury, true faith where there is doubt; hope where there is despair; light where there is darkness. These are the fruits of Easter!

Papa, it has been a year ago since you have passed. No words could describe the irreplaceable loss that we have been experiencing. Yet we continue to hold on to Jesus’ victory over sin and death and to place our complete trust in Him. Thank you for those happy memories we shared together. We miss you a lot. Nevertheless, we will continue to hold on to each other knowing that through love we will get through life. May the Good Shepherd, who came so that all may have life and have it abundantly (cf. Jn 10:10), welcome you to the fresh and green pastures where He will give you repose (cf. Ps 23:2). We love you!

It's OK Not to be OK

Before I carry on, let me be clear that this has nothing to do with the K-drama with the same title. I must admit though that it was a beautiful drama series. 

Since the onset of Covid-19 five years ago, there have been a handful of deaths among family and friends. Intellectually, I would accept that as something natural, that we're all going to experience that at some point in time. However, emotionally it is something painful and difficult. Indeed, as Dr Abercio Rotor, one of my professors in UST Graduate School, would put it "[in the  death of a loved one] there is a part of us that has also died."

This came really true in my father's passing. 

Being the eldest among my siblings, I have tried my best to show composure during bereavement. When my paternal grandmother passed away twenty five years ago, I kept myself busy with contacting other relatives, friends, and acquaintances to inform them of the sad news (my Lola died and was buried in the States), made arrangements for a Requiem Mass, etc. Before I know it, I was just carrying on as normal...not! 

During New Year's Eve 2000, as I was saying Grace before our medianoche, I broke down in tears. It was only then that I was able to mourn for my Lola's passing. 

Fast forward, when I arrived in Oklahoma this May, I was shown the room where Papa passed away two days previously. My bed was already fixed, on the same spot where he died. I knelt before the bed and said my prayers, and cried. Kristina, my youngest sister, consoled me and gave me a hug.

I thought that our family puts up a strong face during such sorrowful events, but I was wrong. Everyone shed a tear for Papa. Everyone showed how vulnerable they were at the loss of a loved one.

As we left the crematorium, I tried to maintain my composure. But when my sister Nicola asked, "Are you OK?", I couldn't hide my grief. For a few minutes, we were just there in the car park crying.

The moral of the story is this: if you have to cry, then cry. It can be privately - I find visits before the Blessed Sacrament to be quite an uplifting experience. It can be with family or friends that you can trust. Allow yourself to mourn. Don't bottle it up like a firecracker that once ignited would be blown into smithereens. There are moments in life, such as bereavement, when it's OK not to be OK.

At Peace

 

(My father and former web columnist has passed away on 29 April 2025. I am sharing with you the eulogy I delivered during the final viewing of his remains in Edmond, Oklahoma, USA on 3 May 2025.)

Each of us has lost a father, brother, grandfather, uncle, and friend in our beloved Mario. And as he lay asleep in the blessed hope of the Resurrection, I remember how he told us when we were kids to respect someone who is asleep: Kung ayaw mong matulog, magpatulog ka. I once disobeyed this house rule and was smacked accordingly.

As Papa lays asleep, let us allow him to sleep in peace. To do this, I am reminded of some advice he once told me: rise to the occasion. In those moments of unforgiveness, we rise to forgive. In times of despair, we rise to hope. In times of need, we rise to reach out.

I have not received any sign from Papa since his passing, but listening to your stories and relating with you, I realize that you are his signs for me. Recently, Emmy Garon, wife of the late Bob Garon, wrote to say that she will never, ever forget Papa. He did something which he never expected will save thousands and thousands of lives who were addicted to drugs. To this day, what he implemented in DARE is now the official method of rehabilitation in the Philippines. 

Papa has made a difference in our lives. We too are called to make a difference in the lives of the people around us. Doing so, Papa would be at peace.

Thank you, Gio and Marcia, for welcoming Papa into your home. Thank you, Tita Meddy and Tito Teddy, for being there for Papa when he was so ill. You stayed by his side as long as he needed you. Thank you, Gio’s friends for accepting Papa as part of your families. He spent the last years of his life enjoying the warmth and love that you showered him. I am pretty much sure that he will put a good word for you all when he meets the Lord.

We just recited a Chaplet of Divine Mercy. Before Papa passed away, Tita Meddy prayed this beautiful devotion with some of the family around him. Tito Teddy told me that when the fourth decade was recited, Papa’s countenance became peaceful. The next time you recite the Chaplet, please remember Papa in your prayers.

On behalf of my siblings and our families, as well as the Valdes-Albano Clan, thank you for being with us in these difficult times. God bless.
 

A Moaner's Prayer

During the past few days, most of the UK have sunny and warm spells.  Most people have been out and about enjoying the sun.  A neighbour, just a few houses from ours, was having a barbecue with his mates, complete with singing and dancing. The one next to us was mowing his lawn at almost 9pm!  Having a glorious weather in this often rainy country is a blessing indeed! Unless you are a moaner!

Years ago, when I was still in university, Mrs Estrella De Leon (my teacher in Logic) told us that when it rains, people would pray "Lord, please let the sun to come out. We cannot manage to be in a wet weather!" When the sun did come out, people would pray "Lord, please send in the rain. It's too hot!" She concluded how baffled God has been because it's difficult to please people.

Are you a moaner? Someone who would easily whine when something happens, regardless if it's just a minor glitch or not? Someone who grumbles in every action another person does or in any blessings the other person has?

The late Fr Erick Santos told this story about moaners' views of their priest: "If the priest is seen to be with people of the same sex, he is gay. If the priest is seen to be with people of the opposite sex, he is a womanizer. If the priest is with the rich, he is an aristocrat. If the priest is with the poor, he is a communist." Similar to Ma'am De Leon's lesson,  Fr Erick concluded that the priest is at a loss at pleasing everyone, most especially the moaners.

During Our Lady's apparition to the three shepherd children at Fatima on 13 July 1917, she taught them this prayer: Oh my Jesus, I offer this for love of You, for the conversion of sinners, and in reparation for the sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

Our Lady taught this beautiful prayer when she encouraged the children to make sacrifices. One hundred years since then, this prayer is still relevant. I think it would be a good prayer especially when we are tempted to moan about anything. So the next time we are stuck in traffic, soaked in rain, melting in the sun, running low in cash, or getting impatient with an annoying significant other, let's not rant. Rather, let's say: Oh my Jesus, I offer this for love of You, for the conversion of sinners, and in reparation for the sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

Sacrifices can make a difference, be it for yourself or for someone else (moaners included!). Moaning leaves you empty.

***

Talking about sacrifices, there is one person in our lives who have shown us the value of making sacrifices: our fathers.  I would like to tip my cap to all dads out there, especially to my father Mario, on their special day today. Thank you for going the extra mile just to make sure that we have a better future. Thank you for overcoming what seems to be a mountain of challenges. Thank you for the love you have shown us. God bless you all! Cheers!

***

My piece won't be complete without paying tribute to my Lolo Paul whose 106th birth anniversary is celebrated today. His natal day this year coincides with two important celebrations: the Feast of Corpus Christi and Father's Day. He was a lover of the Eucharist - he served as an altar boy when he was young and then later I was blessed to have witnessed him do the readings and lead in the singing in the Mass. My love and devotion to the Mass was because of his and Lola Piling's example. He was a loving father who was no stranger to sacrifices and who faithfully provided for the well being of his family. God bless your kind soul, Lolo Paul! Happy 106th birthday! 

Take Me

Take, O take me as I am
Summon out what I shall be
Set Your seal upon my heart
And live in me.

I watched and listened intently as my daughter and her fellow first Holy Communicants sang this song to the delight of everyone in church.  I was one proud dad - my daughter has received the Body of Christ for the first time on that sunny 14th day of May!

My mind brought me back to early December last year, when we parents met in school with Fr Gerry Murphy (our parish priest at that time), Ms Reilly (head teacher), and teachers to prepare for our children's first Holy Communion. An Enrolment Mass was held at the Infant of Prague Church (where the first Holy Communion Mass will be held) on 21 January 2017 to formally present the children to the parish. This was followed by a series of meetings once a month from February to May.

Children were also provided with two books: "Love and Forgiven" which focused on the celebration of their first Sacrament of Reconciliation and "Meet Christ with Joy" which focused on the celebration of their first Holy Communion. We were encouraged to guide our children in completing these books.  For Nidz and I, it felt like going back 30 odd years ago when we made our first Holy Communion.  While I helped Chiara with the text that needs to go into these books, Nidz assisted with the pictures and drawings. Teachers regularly monitor children's progress.

Apart from these, we were also invited to become involved in the Vigil Masses in church from January to May.  Parents took turns in facilitating a "Children's Liturgy" wherein the candidates for first Holy Communion have their own celebration in the sacristy. Part of this celebration is to read the Gospel, make a brief reflection on what was read, and do an activity related to the reflection. (The "Children's Liturgy" runs parallel to the Liturgy of the Word.) After the "Children's Liturgy", the children go back to the sanctuary to present their work. Nidz and I facilitated two liturgies. In one of those, we taught the children to sing "Let it shine" which was met with a round of applause from the congregation.

Fast forward now. Nidz and I sat next to each other, happy to see our daughter reaching another milestone in her journey of faith. We were blessed to have my father Mario and youngest sister Kristina coming from New York to also witness Chiara's special day. 

After the Mass, lots of clicking sounds could be heard from cameras and mobile phones as first Holy Communicants and their families posed for photo opportunities in or near the sanctuary. Later on, we made our way to the Our Lady of Perpetual Succour Community Centre for a sumptuous meal of Filipino dishes, a joint effort we shared with three other Filipino families. But before that, we were asked to see the Poor Clare sisters. In the monastery, Chiara, Mia, Reyna, and Megan made a repeat performance of their song. The sisters were elated!

During the reception, guests gave short messages to the first Holy Communicants. Papa gave an impromptu speech. Chiara later thanked everyone in behalf of her friends.

If there is one word that sums up this first Holy Communion celebration, it is take. Our children take the Lord's Body and eat it. We parents, as well as other members of the family, the parish, the school, etc. take once again that calling to nurture our children's faith.  Above all, the Lord Himself takes these children - takes us all actually - in spite of our imperfections so that we may have life to the full (John 10:10).

To Chiara and her fellow first Holy Communicants, congratulations. Jesus takes your hearts and has found a new home in them. Make Him feel welcome so that He would live there at all times.

Life is Like a Tire

Last Sunday was quite a busy time for me.  After going to church with Chiara, we headed home for lunch and then, while she was watching TV, I was on Skype to talk to a cousin in the Philippines.  Later on we went to a neighbour's home for a children's party.  Chiara had a great time with the other kids.  I also enjoyed meeting new faces and getting to know more about our neighbours and other guests.  Conscious that I need to prepare our dinner and fetch Nidz from work, we thanked our generous hosts and left.  

It was 20 minutes to 8.  I told Chiara that it was time for us to fetch her Mommy.  As I was driving I heard something different.  "This is the first time I felt the car this way!", I told myself.  Because I was in a hurry, I just carried on driving.  Nidz's workplace is not that far from us anyway.  We arrived at the hospital after about 5 minutes. There was a parking space available (my usual spot) so I headed in that direction.  Chiara, surprisingly, was fast asleep. It has been a long day for her.  I went out of the car to check what's going on. My suspicion was that one of the tires needed more air.  It was more than that. One of the rear tires was deflated!

When Nidz arrived, I showed her what happened. "Daddy, you can't drive like that!", she said.  I tried to call breakdown service twice, but they were not available.  I sent a text message to Meng, a friend and Chiara's godfather, who lives nearby asking for help.  He later phoned me up to ask what's the problem.  In a few minutes, he arrived.  He first tried to use a small pump, but it didn't work.  I was getting nervous.  I felt like the day was going to end in a low note.  He went back to his car to get something. It was Tyreweld, a cylinder container whose contents would not only inflate the tire, but also get the puncture sorted.  In a matter of a few minutes, the tire was good as new!  We left the place with unending pasasalamat to Pareng Meng.

I suddenly remembered a similar situation way back in September 2012 during our visit to New York.  After seeing our relatives in Staten Island, we headed back to Manhattan where we were staying. Nidz and my mother travelled with a cousin and went ahead of us.  While Nicola, Chiara, and I were on my aunt's car. My father was with us.  My aunt and godmother Ninang Joji drove us.  As we entered Battery Park Tunnel (which connects Manhattan and Brooklyn), all of us felt as though we were all bouncing, as though we were passing through potholes.  As the tunnel has 2 lanes with vehicles moving on the same direction, drivers from the other lane were signalling to us, pointing at one of our tires.  Ninang Joji stopped the car.  Although there were barriers separating the 2 lanes, the vehicles at the back sensed the problem and managed to overtake when it was safe to do so. (The barriers, by the way, are made of thin plastic so cars can just pass through easily.)

In spite of how busy these lanes can be, I was surprised and touched that other drivers would stop for a few minutes to check on us and even offered to contact New York Police Department (NYPD). My aunt and father thanked them for their kindness.  A few minutes later 2 policemen arrived and told us that one of the rear tires (the one near to where I sat) was severely punctured.  The car had to be towed outside the tunnel.  We have to ride NYPD cars.  Chiara, Ninang Joji, and I were on one car while Papa and Nicola were on the other.  Chiara kept on talking to the policeman.  At one point she told the cop how handsome he was!  The cop graciously told her "Thanks, sweetie. Unfortunately I cannot fix your car".  He later asked where Nidz was and Chiara told him that her mom is a nurse.  "My wife is a nurse too", quipped the officer.  (Incidentally, Pareng Meng's wife is also a nurse.) He told us that at that moment his wife is working in the hospital. All throughout that ordeal, the cops were reassuring.  We were grateful for all their help. As it was getting late, Nicola, Chiara, and I took a cab to my sister's apartment.  Papa and Ninang Joji stayed for almost an hour for breakdown assistance to replace the tire before returning to Staten Island.

There's this Filipino saying that goes "Ang buhay ay parang gulong. Minsan nasa ibabaw ka. Minsan naman nasa ilalim ka" (Freely: Life is like a tire. Sometimes you are on top. Sometimes you are at the bottom.).  These two incidents made us feel that we are at the bottom. And yet, these were also moments when men of goodwill uplifted us.  They give deeper meaning to the 'salt of the earth and light of the world' which Jesus mentioned in this Sunday's Gospel.  They showed us how it is to love and be loved.

Things I've Learned From Papa

When I became a father, I tried to open that treasure chest of fond memories, memories of when I was a child being looked after by my parents, my father in particular.

My father was of the strict-type of guy as you might have come across a previous article. One of things that he taught us was to be respectful of others. Take for example when someone in the house is still asleep. He told us to be quiet so as not to disturb others. One morning, I was with a little sister in our parents’ bedroom – Papa was still asleep. I opened a drawer and closed it quickly when suddenly my sister cried – one of her fingers got trapped in the drawer! As a result, I got a slap from my already roused up father. Indeed, “Magbiro ka na sa lasing, huwag lang sa bagong gising”. (Better to crack a joke to someone who’s drunk than to someone half-awake.)

That incident, painful as it may be, made me realise what respect is all about: being mindful of others (asleep or not) and treat them accordingly.

As a dad myself, I make it a point not to disturb Chiara when she is asleep. When she was a few weeks old, a faint noise could wake her up; sometimes it’s hard to put her back to sleep.

As a husband, it is also a challenge for me not to provoke my wife’s anger. I must admit that I sometimes fail by letting my own anger get the better of me.

Another lesson that I learned from Papa was to remain humble in spite of one’s achievements. It was almost summer of 1982 when he made a surprise visit to my school and spoke with my teacher. I thought he would have gone after that meeting, but waited for me and drove me home – we used to have a school service transport. As he was driving, he expressed elation at my achievements in school and was anticipating my progression to the next year’s grade. Whilst driving, he kept on repeating to me that I will be Grade 3 student soon. Towards the end of this seemingly unending praise came a warning: “Huwag ka lang magiging mayabang.” (Just don’t be boastful of your achievements.)

Someone once told me how proud Chiara would have me to be her Dad. I replied to my friend that I am actually humbled that God has chosen me to be Chiara’s father.

If we hear of princes or princesses becoming kings or queens at their tender age, I became the man of the house at age 8 when Papa left for greener pastures in the States. He told me to look after my younger siblings and my mother. Symbolically, I sat at the head of the dining table until I moved to the UK. At that age, I tried to understand the responsibility that was entrusted to me. I’m glad that Mama, my grandparents, uncles and aunts were all there to support me.

I must admit that at times I was reluctant to act, sometimes failed to act, and still at some times overact or over react. I just fall down on my knees to ask for Divine Guidance to remain faithful in doing what needs to be done.

Happy Fathers’ Day, Papa! Thank you for inculcating respect, humility, and responsibility in my then young mind. Rest assured that I will pass them on my daughter. God bless you!

May God, the source of all fatherhood, bless all fathers this Sunday and always!

Clean

I was thinking of an article in honor of the Immaculate Conception when I found myself in the clinic with Nidz and Chiara a few weeks ago. Chiara, now about 15 months old, was due for her booster vaccine shot. During her first few months, we were regularly in the clinic for various injections: BCG, whooping cough, etc. The baby is a brave girl though, parang walang nangyari (as though nothing happened to her).

Mary’s immaculate conception in her mother’s womb has been a dogma defined by the Church for 155 years already. Ages before that though Catholics from across the globe have already believed that Mary was conceived without original sin, that tendency to commit faults which we have inherited from our first parents. The Archdiocese of Manila is a good example – it has been established under the patronage of the Immaculate Conception centuries before the dogma was defined!

Not everyone though believed in this grace that God bestowed on Mary. St Thomas Aquinas himself did not subscribe to it, according to Bishop Ted Bacani, saying that if Mary was conceived without original sin, then Jesus would not be the Redeemer of mankind!

If kids are given a vaccine to prevent them from catching certain diseases, the Immaculate Conception of Mary, I think, is God’s preventive measure so that His Son’s would-be Mother would not be a ‘carrier’ of that disease called sin which the Son has come to defeat and conquer. I read in one article that, in this ‘singular grace of God’ Jesus has shown how great a great Redeemer He is that He prevented one of His creatures, Mary, from owing that debt (i.e. sin) from Him.

What does this feast tell us then? At a time when we’re getting ready for Christmas, we are called to be clean and to come clean.

Jesus once said “Blessed are the clean of heart for they shall see God.” True enough the Blessed Virgin not only saw Him, but bore Him in her womb “with love beyond telling” as mentioned in one of the Advent Prefaces said at Mass. We too in a way bear the Lord in our hearts through the Word proclaimed and the Bread partaken at Mass. If we are to bear Him, then we need to keep ourselves clean like tidying up the house for an expected guest.

Elections in the Philippines are going into full swing soon and voters have to be on the watch on how clean these presidentiables and other candidates are in terms of lifestyle and platform of governance. Of course, most if not all of them will say they want to serve the country. Yet we need to see how pure their intentions are. I’m glad that Senator Noynoy Aquino has been making his stand known on many issues like the perennial debt servicing, the Hacienda Luisita, population control, etc. By letting his voice heard, he is slowly moving away from the shadow of his revered parents and proving that he is his own man. On the other hand, I was amused upon hearing that if Senator Jamby Madrigal would be elected president she would hale into court her relatives for allegedly having a hand in disinheriting her from her late aunt’s will. Next candidate please!

Coming clean can sometimes be hard especially when we thought we could get away with our wrongdoings. And then the moment of truth just slapped us on the face. We hit rock bottom, but we should rise up again. I am saying these not on ideal words, but from someone who has experienced the pain of the truth revealing itself at a time least expected. I managed to rise up though, thanks to God who has implanted in my poor soul that hope for recovery. Thanks too to the Blessed Mother who has never turned her back on me.

The recent massacre in Maguindanao has caught the world’s attention on the often frightening political climate in the south. As of this writing three suspects from the powerful Ampatuan clan, have been brought to jail. They have to come clean and I join the rest of our countrymen in asking the government to let justice be served swiftly, without any consideration for political affinity and debt of gratitude – the Ampatuans are members of the ruling political party.

As we once again celebrate the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, let us be strong in our resolve as individuals and as a country to follow the example of our Patroness and Mother. If we do so, then peace would be ours as assured by the angels when they first sang the Gloria in that little town of Bethlehem 2,000 years ago.

Ave Maria purisima sin pecado concebida!

***

This feast is memorable to me, as you would know, because on this date Nidz and I began our relationship 16 years ago. She’s cooking something special tonight! I love you, Mommy!

Talking about relationships, this date also marks the 26th wedding anniversary of Tito Paul and Ninang Joji Pablo. Many happy returns to you two on this great occasion!

Finally, it’s my father Mario’s 59th birthday today. My skill in writing has been honed through correspondence between me and my dad when I was still a little boy. Having migrated to the States to work, the only mode of communication we had then were telephone and snail mail. A friend described him as my ‘Number 1 fan’ in the web. Thank you, Papa. Have a wonderful day!

The Racist That I Was

At the corner of Cavite and S del Rosario Streets in Gagalangin, Tondo, Manila, stands a sari-sari store owned by a Chinese family. This store is very near to what used to be our house. One morning, during the early 80s, the elder China man was outside the store and was talking in his native tongue. He sounded angry, but to my childish mind then, I thought this would be a time to make fun of him. So I yelled something that sounded-Chinese-but-it's-not which made him really unhappy. Many buyers saw what I did.

Manong Alvin, an older cousin, was with me then. Upon returning home, he told my father about it. My father sternly instructed me to go back to the store and apologise to the China man. Realising my lack of respect, I approached the man and said "Pasensya." He just tapped me at the back.

Another story which might have happened earlier was when our family went to Luneta for a night out. One of our houseboys told me that there was a Black man in the park. When the Black man walked past us, I shouted "Negro!". As expected, I got a reprimand from my old man.

These are just few stories of how I have insulted people from other race. In the West, you would have already been labeled as a 'racist'. In countries like the UK and the USA, a mixed culture society is not unusual. And because it's a diverse environment, a sense of co-existence tempered with respect is highly called for.

This was realized by St Martin de Porres, who in his lifetime, treated people fairly regardless of their status, complexion, etc. It has been said that Martin and his sister were disowned by their Spanish father because of the color of their skin - their mother had a black complexion.

Until now, racism and discrimination have been challenging our societies and have often been perceived as hindrance to progress. As we honor St Martin this 3rd of November, let it be our goal to treat others with love and respect regardless of our race, sexual orientation, or belief.

***

I couldn't forget this saint of charity because the award I received during my Elementary graduation in Letran was named "De Porres Award". There have been stories that he was seen in Manila (through bilocation) though he never left his convent in Lima, Peru.

I pray to him every Tuesday asking for health of mind and body as well as the courage to rise up from my wrong notion of other people.

***

Congratulations to my beloved mother, the Honorable Aida Samaniego-Albano, for being elected as Kagawad in the recent Barangay elections.

Birthday blessings to Gabby Albano Axibal, my niece and god daughter, on the 5th and to Nicola, my sister, on the 8th.