This is one story most fit for Halloween rather than Christmas. But experience such as this needs to be told to remind us of the Supreme Being who has power over all of us, God. Christmas is not just a celebration of Jesus’ birth; it is a celebration of (our) lives, a sheer manifestation of God’s eternal love and the beginning of our redemption. On a cold Tuesday night, I get to experience God’s love in the most endearing fashion fit for someone who isn’t even worthy of a second chance, yet in His forgiving eyes, He must have thought of the grand scheme of things He wants for me, so I’m back home writing this piece from scratch.
I normally stay at one of my favorite hotel in Manila whenever I had official business trips that require spending days at the big city. For me, this trip was an ordinary one just like the rest of the business trips I had for this year. I was working on my final presentation for the following day’s meeting when I suddenly felt sleepy about quarter past eight (8) in the evening. Feeling tired from the travel the night before, I placed my laptop just above my head and yielded to the call of the soft bed, relaxing music and jazzy ambiance of Room 79. Before falling completely asleep, I was thinking then that I’ll have to wake up early morning to continue my presentation.
In the darkest corner of my sleeping thoughts, I begun to hear typing sounds in my laptop’s keyboard, I remembered I opened my eyes to see from the mirror at the side of the room who was playing with my laptop but I didn’t see anyone. Then the typing noise continued and sounds of chairs being dragged on the floor engulfed the keyboard sound. I forced myself to get up to see who was doing it but I found myself incapable of motion. I remembered I was shouting “stop it!” for I wanted to sleep but the noise kept getting louder each minute.
Then the unthinkable happened. In my conscious effort to stop the noise, I had forced myself to get up. But each time my head reaches 30-40% angle in an attempt to get up (I was lying face up in the bed with my arms spread), I felt a sudden rush of electricity in my face which prevented me from rising up. I repeatedly attempted to force myself to rise but each time I get to that very same angle, there comes the rush of electric-like current from nowhere blazing in my face. On my third try, I managed to look back and was surprised to see myself (my body) in my deepest sleep. Right then I realized I was dreaming and the dream can turn bad. So I slowly lay back to my original form and prayed in silence the basic prayers thought to me in elementary. In a few minutes, I regained consciousness and woke up from the nightmare before Christmas.
I was so happy to see my family and my children again as I went home tonight. My children didn’t have a single inkling of the danger I was in days before and they may have never knew instantly the worst ending to that story. It send shiver to my skin while writing this piece. But if it takes to have one hell of a night for me to stop, look and listen to the beautiful things I must have missed travelling hundred miles an hour, then I’ll unlock my foot from the gas pedal and park at the side street. Eighteen (18) days before Christmas, God had given me the most precious gift anyone can only wish for in their dire need. Not everyone gets a second chance, I’m lucky (and blessed) to have gotten one.
Thank you, JC!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
The Christmas Letter
Ruth went to her mail box on Christmas Eve, and there was only one letter. She picked it up and looked at it before opening, but then she looked at the envelope again. There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address. She read the letter:
Dear Ruth:
I’m going to be in your neighborhood this Christmas and I’d like to stop by for a visit.
Love Always,
Jesus
Ruth’s hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table. “Why would the Lord want to visit me? I’m nobody special. I don’t have anything to offer.” With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets.
“Oh my goodness, I really don’t have anything to offer. It’s already Christmas Eve and the stores will be closing. I’ll have to run down out and buy something for dinner right away.” She reached for her purse and counted out its contents. Five dollars and forty cents.
“Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least.” She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk…leaving Ruth with grand total of twelve cents to last her until next week. Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings of a Christmas dinner tucked under her arm.
“Hey lady, can you help us, lady?” Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans; she hadn’t even noticed two figures huddled in the alleyway. A man and a woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags.
“Look lady, I ain’t got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living here on the street, and, well, now it’s getting cold and we’re getting kinda hungry and, well, it’s Christmas Eve, if you could help us, lady, we’d really appreciate it.”
Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad and, frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to.
“Sir, I’d like to help you, but I’m a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, and I’m having an important guest for Christmas and I was planning on serving that to Him.”
“Yeah, well, okay lady, I understand. Thanks anyway”. The man put his arm around the woman’s shoulders, turned and headed back into the alley as a gentle snow began to fall. As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart.
“Sir, wait!” The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them. Look, why don’t you take this food. I’ll figure out something else to serve my guest.” She handed the man her grocery bag.
“Thank you lady, thank you very much!” “Yes, thank you!”
Ruth could see now that the woman was shivering.
“You know, I’ve got another coat at home. Here, why don’t you take this one?” Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman’s shoulders. Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street …. without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest.
“Thank you lady! Thank you very much! …. and Merry Christmas!”
Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her front door, and worried too. The Lord was coming to visit and she didn’t have anything to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key. But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox. “That’s odd. The mailman doesn’t usually deliver on Christmas Eve.” She took the envelope out of the box and opened it.
Dear Ruth:
It was so good to see you again. Thank you for the lovely Christmas dinner. And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat.
Love Always,
Jesus
The air was still cold, and the snow was falling even harder, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed.
- Author Unknown
Jesus doesn’t normally write us Christmas letters and drop it in our mailboxes at home or over the web. I have never heard of such divine notice sent, signed and delivered from the heavens on Christmas Eve or any time of the year at that. This Christmas story might have been told over and over again that you can tell the exact ending just by reading the opening lines. Nevertheless, as cliché as this letter | story may sound, it makes fair sense to stop for a moment and feel the cold air in the morning, listen to the season tunes played over the radio, watch the Christmas lights glow in the dark and share the spirit of the season with the rest of the world.
The morning TV news does a daily countdown until the Christmas. I remembered they begun the count as early as October of this year. As I watched them count the remaining days to Christmas everyday, I got lost in transition as to how many more days it is and while I am tangled in the daily operations, urgent processes and planning requirements at the office, I had completely forgotten that Christmas is indeed coming. In one of my short breaks last week and while checking my mails, it suddenly occurred to me that it is Christmas time once again so I sent few friends greetings so as not to forget. Better early than forgotten I said to myself.
I would not want to wish to receive a letter from Jesus this Christmas (literally or figuratively) for three (3) simple reasons. First, I don’t think I am ready to understand the words written and I may fall short decoding the message hidden between the lines. My Chinese wife thinks I’m dumb. Truth is, I am and I never will get tired of learning to fill-up my half-full left brain that stores my deficient logical, rational, analytical and objective thinking. Once-in-a-while I get to pretend I’m smart when she’s not around but then everything goes back to the normal dumb me back home.
Second, since I might fail the letter comprehension test and misinterpret the value of the message, I may be forever lost in my subconscious trying to figure out the difference between regret and taking chances. My Boss, Resty O. Bundoc told me stories sometime ago of why and how things, practices, cultures and emotions die a natural death. According to him, it is not the end that we should worry about, if not written in the stars (or destiny to some) it will soon come. What we should pay most attention on are the details of today without losing track of the big picture that’s about to happen tomorrow. The most important, lasting and redeeming lesson in situations of dying a natural death is facing the truth of today and appreciating (not suffering) the consequence of tomorrow.
Third, I don’t think I deserve such celestial memo right now as naughty kids don’t get toys from Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. “Ignosce mihi, Pater, quia peccavi.” It means “Bless me, father, for I have sinned” in Latin. I knew I did countless time in the past until today and for personal penance (if it’s permitted for absolution in the spirit of Christmas) I would chose to sing a Christmas song over recital of repetitive prayers. Not that it’s easier to do but it’s something not given in the past by any priest yet by the virtues covering the Sacrament of Penance. It may not be in the book but it makes sense, a heavenly prudence in the season of faith, hope and charity.
“You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town. He's making a list, and checking it twice; gonna find out who's naughty and nice. Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake! Oh, you better watch out! You better not cry. Better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town.” Now done with the my distinctive penance, I wish to work hard to make this Christmas the most wonderful season for my family (kids and Chinese wife included), my friends, others that I don’t claim to be “mine”, the countless and the nameless people that I don’t know but in one-one-way or the other have been related to me by chance or intervention.
So help me Jesus.
-Rustico
Dear Ruth:
I’m going to be in your neighborhood this Christmas and I’d like to stop by for a visit.
Love Always,
Jesus
Ruth’s hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table. “Why would the Lord want to visit me? I’m nobody special. I don’t have anything to offer.” With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets.
“Oh my goodness, I really don’t have anything to offer. It’s already Christmas Eve and the stores will be closing. I’ll have to run down out and buy something for dinner right away.” She reached for her purse and counted out its contents. Five dollars and forty cents.
“Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least.” She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk…leaving Ruth with grand total of twelve cents to last her until next week. Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings of a Christmas dinner tucked under her arm.
“Hey lady, can you help us, lady?” Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans; she hadn’t even noticed two figures huddled in the alleyway. A man and a woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags.
“Look lady, I ain’t got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living here on the street, and, well, now it’s getting cold and we’re getting kinda hungry and, well, it’s Christmas Eve, if you could help us, lady, we’d really appreciate it.”
Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad and, frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to.
“Sir, I’d like to help you, but I’m a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, and I’m having an important guest for Christmas and I was planning on serving that to Him.”
“Yeah, well, okay lady, I understand. Thanks anyway”. The man put his arm around the woman’s shoulders, turned and headed back into the alley as a gentle snow began to fall. As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart.
“Sir, wait!” The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them. Look, why don’t you take this food. I’ll figure out something else to serve my guest.” She handed the man her grocery bag.
“Thank you lady, thank you very much!” “Yes, thank you!”
Ruth could see now that the woman was shivering.
“You know, I’ve got another coat at home. Here, why don’t you take this one?” Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman’s shoulders. Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street …. without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest.
“Thank you lady! Thank you very much! …. and Merry Christmas!”
Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her front door, and worried too. The Lord was coming to visit and she didn’t have anything to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key. But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox. “That’s odd. The mailman doesn’t usually deliver on Christmas Eve.” She took the envelope out of the box and opened it.
Dear Ruth:
It was so good to see you again. Thank you for the lovely Christmas dinner. And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat.
Love Always,
Jesus
The air was still cold, and the snow was falling even harder, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed.
- Author Unknown
Jesus doesn’t normally write us Christmas letters and drop it in our mailboxes at home or over the web. I have never heard of such divine notice sent, signed and delivered from the heavens on Christmas Eve or any time of the year at that. This Christmas story might have been told over and over again that you can tell the exact ending just by reading the opening lines. Nevertheless, as cliché as this letter | story may sound, it makes fair sense to stop for a moment and feel the cold air in the morning, listen to the season tunes played over the radio, watch the Christmas lights glow in the dark and share the spirit of the season with the rest of the world.
The morning TV news does a daily countdown until the Christmas. I remembered they begun the count as early as October of this year. As I watched them count the remaining days to Christmas everyday, I got lost in transition as to how many more days it is and while I am tangled in the daily operations, urgent processes and planning requirements at the office, I had completely forgotten that Christmas is indeed coming. In one of my short breaks last week and while checking my mails, it suddenly occurred to me that it is Christmas time once again so I sent few friends greetings so as not to forget. Better early than forgotten I said to myself.
I would not want to wish to receive a letter from Jesus this Christmas (literally or figuratively) for three (3) simple reasons. First, I don’t think I am ready to understand the words written and I may fall short decoding the message hidden between the lines. My Chinese wife thinks I’m dumb. Truth is, I am and I never will get tired of learning to fill-up my half-full left brain that stores my deficient logical, rational, analytical and objective thinking. Once-in-a-while I get to pretend I’m smart when she’s not around but then everything goes back to the normal dumb me back home.
Second, since I might fail the letter comprehension test and misinterpret the value of the message, I may be forever lost in my subconscious trying to figure out the difference between regret and taking chances. My Boss, Resty O. Bundoc told me stories sometime ago of why and how things, practices, cultures and emotions die a natural death. According to him, it is not the end that we should worry about, if not written in the stars (or destiny to some) it will soon come. What we should pay most attention on are the details of today without losing track of the big picture that’s about to happen tomorrow. The most important, lasting and redeeming lesson in situations of dying a natural death is facing the truth of today and appreciating (not suffering) the consequence of tomorrow.
Third, I don’t think I deserve such celestial memo right now as naughty kids don’t get toys from Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. “Ignosce mihi, Pater, quia peccavi.” It means “Bless me, father, for I have sinned” in Latin. I knew I did countless time in the past until today and for personal penance (if it’s permitted for absolution in the spirit of Christmas) I would chose to sing a Christmas song over recital of repetitive prayers. Not that it’s easier to do but it’s something not given in the past by any priest yet by the virtues covering the Sacrament of Penance. It may not be in the book but it makes sense, a heavenly prudence in the season of faith, hope and charity.
“You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town. He's making a list, and checking it twice; gonna find out who's naughty and nice. Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake! Oh, you better watch out! You better not cry. Better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town.” Now done with the my distinctive penance, I wish to work hard to make this Christmas the most wonderful season for my family (kids and Chinese wife included), my friends, others that I don’t claim to be “mine”, the countless and the nameless people that I don’t know but in one-one-way or the other have been related to me by chance or intervention.
So help me Jesus.
-Rustico
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