It is our delight to introduce to you this new section in Misyon – Our Hideaway. A venue for the youth to express themselves and to share with our readers their mind, their heart and their soul.
We are inviting you –students and young professionals – to drop by Our Hideaway and let us know how you are doing.
Cautious
By Anabelle Badilla
One weekend, my officemate and I were invited by a friend to take a break at Costa Aguada, a beautiful island resort in Guimaras. It was my first time to travel by water in a pump boat for the whole one-hour and a half. As we were docking, I kept admiring the clear, blue water and saying aloud how much I wished I could jump into it and swim. But it would be impossible for me to do that as I have a terrible fear of deep waters. I can swim but never in waters above my head. My companions didn’t stop coaxing me to try it and reminding me that my other chance might not come anymore.
Promise me an ice-cream
I remembered the first time I joined in an inter-school essay writing contest in college. I had always dreamed of winning in a writing competition and it just remained a dream, as I didn’t believe I could at all be capable of getting qualified – until that day. I saw the invitation on the bulletin board in school and my classmates got more excited than I was about it. They kept telling me I could do it and that if I didn’t, I could always join in another contest. When my best friend promised me an ice-cream treat if I joined, I said yes. But it was actually more of wanting to get over it once and for all. The moment I set foot inside the air conditioned room, I was sweating endlessly, butterflies in my stomach almost made me puke, the pen I was holding seemed to have lost its weight and I couldn’t feel my feet on the ground anymore. I was calling out to all the saints I could think of and promising God to be a really good girl if He helped me get through it.
I did get through it. I landed third place – among the three of us that participated. But it was all worth that dreadful first-time. I got a trophy, a medal and a P300.00.
Conquering the unknown
And now I was about to have to try just another first-time. I looked at my friends who grew more and more impatient and looked like they’re ready to throw me into the water. I said to myself, “They’re absolutely not promising any ice-cream treat after this and I’m absolutely not having any trophy or a medal or 300 bucks if I get drowned here.” But something inside me just wanted all this to be over. The brave may never live forever but the cautious never live at all, so goes that line in the movie,Princess Diaries. Then as I made this life and death decision of jumping in that 50-feet, shark-infested (at least as I suspected) sea water, my world turned into slow motion, my heart throbbed like a drum…and off I jumped!
I had to let out a scream as soon as I did that. Not of fright but of relief. I was already floating in the seawater which I later found out to be just eight-feet deep. I was alive. And happier. And braver.
In that instant I discovered that my fears often spring forth from my ignorance of what lies ahead or beyond. I am always afraid of what I didn’t know, so I only stay where I think I’m comfortable and safe. And because of this not just big things but even little but beautiful things in life pass me by – unnoticed.
The Good Harvest
By Gee-Gee O. Torres
It was a Sunday, but I had to get up early. I crawled out of bed wiping the sleep off my eyes, grabbed my knapsack and mindlessly threw in my things, took a quick shower and off I went to wake Dad up, my ever loyal bodyguard and driver, who was still sleeping soundly like a child.
How could I?
As we were leaving the house, how I wished I didn’t have to go. I had a stressful week, coping with all the deadlines in the office. I just wanted to rest and sleeping for five more hours was exactly what I had in mind. But how could I? I was already on the road while the rest of the world was fast asleep. Dad just drove down the road quietly, listening to the jazz music from the car stereo, without any clue of how much I wanted to go back to sleep.
Life’s beauty
I saw the sun slowly coming out of the velvet blue sky. The vast green rice fields swayed to the rhythm of the gentle morning breeze, the same breeze which caressed my sleepy face. All this beauty which unfolded before my eyes was enough to cheer me up.
Amay
Dad and I arrived in the farm. It was time to harvest the palay. The people had already started. Each one minding his own paddy field. I admired them for their expertise in the art of holding the scythe as it cut through the ricestalks. At a distance I saw Amay, the ten-year-old son of one of our farm helpers. He looked smaller than his age – a few inches taller than the palay, but he worked as fast and as briskly as his father who was just in the next paddy field. It broke my heart to see Amay in this state. At this age, he was supposed to be in school playing with the other children and listening to the teacher in the classroom. His parents enrolled him in Grade I twice but he found it hard to pass the subjects. So for obvious reasons here he was in the middle of the ricefield, helping his father bring home a few kilos of rice for their dinner table. As I watched him I felt a sense of growing anguish that somehow his chance in life have been diminished before he has even begun.
Maybe
I walked down the rice paddies and distributed to the people the bread I had brought especially for them. The people greeted me with a smile and said thank you. The bread I brought wasn’t much but it was enough to make them stop and take a little rest. The day went on and so the harvesting. Then it was time to gather the ricestalks and pile them in the middle of the field where a roll of plastic mat was neatly spread out. Again Amay was on the go, a big bundle of ricestalks on his head which made it difficult for him to watch his unsteady steps. As he laid down his load, he heard the thresher begin roaring. I saw his face glow with a glint of hope – maybe tonight we would have special meal on our dinner table – fried fish on our plates. As I watched him and as I watched the precious grain separate from the straw, I thanked God for a bountiful harvest. A harvest which gave people life, hope and joy.
Smiling to myself I watched the heaven fold another day. The sun was now quietly bidding goodbye, giving way to the moon to rule the night skies. The day had gone so well. So had I. It was not just an ordinary day out in the farm. It was a day full of discoveries – about myself and about life. As I went to bed that night, I thought of the people in the farm, especially Amay. I didn’t know exactly how but I now had a clearer picture of how I could help them.