ASOP Entries

I regularly submit song entries to A Song of Praise Music Festival (ASOP). To date, 3 of my songs have already been chosen for weekly eliminations. I'm yet to win in one.

Here are these 3 songs:

Panalanging Di Mo Tinugon - this is a song about being thankful to God despite unanswered prayers. Deep inside I know, the reason my prayer went unanswered was because God has something better planned for me.

Bakit Mo Iniwan - this is a song about how great Jesus's love for man is. He's already seated beside the Father, yet, He left his godly kingdom in obedience, to come to earth and save us from our sins.

Iyong Iyo Buong Buo - this embodies everything that one can do to show gratitude to the Creator - an offering of oneself wholly and entirely.

Hopefully, I'll have more songs to add to this list.

A Song of Praise Music Festival is currently in it's 9th year.

"Never Worked And Never Will" by Margaret Wise Brown

Blogger's Note:

I first read this story when I was in Grade 3. 

We just moved to my father's hometown to live there permanently. Since we didn't really know anyone there yet outside our cousins and relatives, for the most part I and my siblings kept to ourselves. 

In my father's family's old house where we stayed, there was a large shelf of old books. Those books, some already so old the pages were already so delicate they'd readily fall off if you just folded them, kept me company and provided a lot of afternoon and evening entertainment for a long time. 

It was in one of those books that I read the following selection - which had shaped my work ethic.

I hope it has that same effect on you.

*******************************************************************************************************

Once upon a time, in the town we are now living, there was an old man who made things out of wood. 

He had a shop on a street in a small town where all day long he carved wooden ducks and wild geese for weather vanes and hunters' decoys and, also, for people to buy and hang up in their houses like pictures - flocks of wild, black geese flying across a white wall. 

All his life the old man had loved to carve wood. And so that was what he did. All his life he had sat in his shop with a knife in one hand and a block of wood in the other hand, carving wild birds. 

He would paint them the green and black colours of wild ducks and the wonderful colours of wild geese and hang them in the windows of his shop where people passing by could see them.

People from all over would come to his shop to buy the things he made and to talk to the old man, because he was a happy old man.

But there was one thing people from all over the world could not understand. Over the woodcarver's door was a large sign which said: NEVER WORKED AND NEVER WILL.

"How," said the people from all over, "can Jim Bailey carve wood all day and paint it and sell it and then say he 'NEVER WORKED AND NEVER WILL'?"

"Why," said the people from all over, "he works all day, and he has worked all his life carving wood, and he will work tomorrow. What does he mean?"

"It means," said Jim Bailey, "that I never worked a day in my life and I never will."

"But you work from eight in the morning until eight at night, every day, carving the wild geese out of wood. What do you mean?

"If you don't know, I can't tell you," said the old man. "I never worked and I never will."

And then the old man laughed because the people were so puzzled and he laughed some more because he was a happy man. Then the people from all over the world went away with the wooden ducks and the weather vanes they had bought, shaking their heads. "We don't know what he means. He works harder than any of us, yet he says, 'I never worked a day in my life and I never will."

Then the lazy children from all around came to the old man's shop to watch him carve the wooden ducks out of blocks of wood. When they saw his sign. NEVER WORKED AND NEVER WILL, they thought, "Here is a man like us. He doesn't work either."

But when the lazy children saw him carving wild geese out of wood from eight in the morning till eight at night, they said, "Jim Bailey, you do work. You make things. And you work all day. You work harder than we do."

But the old man shook his head and said, "Go away, lazy children. You don't know what I mean, but still I say, 'I never worked a day in my life and I never will.' And you wouldn't have to work, either, if you knew my secret."

But the lazy children from all around were too lazy to guess his secret, so they went off shaking their heads. They said, "The old man is crazy, We don't know what he means. The old man is crazy, he works all day."

Then the other children from all around came to the old man and watched him carve the wild geese out of wood and paint them the wonderful wild bird colours. It made them happy to see what the old man was doing, and sometimes he let them help him paint.

But they never asked the old man what his sign meant, because they were so delighted with what he was doing that they never thought of it as work. And that was how they knew the old man's secret.

by Margaret Wise Brown (1910-1952)

Japanese Verses

Haiku

********************

"Flitting to and fro

a dragonfly jumps on buds

one to another"

"Hide and squint my eyes

against the sun and the spray

of incoming waves"

"From over the hill

a ribbon of smoke rises

up from autumn fires"

"Lie down in the cold

and make an angel's figure

in a sea of white"

********************

Tanka

********************

I wait for the sun

While the east mountains hide him

Excitement and joy

I share with the grass and trees

As we welcome an old friend

A Rather Perplexing Question

I was once asked how I knew Myla was the one.

It took me quite a while to answer. In fact, if she knew how long I hesitated before I could give a decisive reply, I'd be spending the rest of my married life sleeping on the couch - and we don't have a couch - just a hard bamboo sofa.

But I digress.

Myla and I didn't have a long courtship. We didn't even go through courtship.

We had known each other since college. She was the first person I saw on our building for my first class the first day of college. She was on that same class - Philosophy 1. Actually, she was in all of my classes because we shared a common course block.

She says I caught her attention when I disagreed on a point in grammar with our English teacher, and fell in love with me the next meeting when our teacher conceded and said I was right (She'll never admit that, of course).

At that time, our relationship didn't go beyond mere friendship. She had boyfriends, I had girlfriends. We both lived our own separate lives all through 4 years of college.

That was until one hastily arranged lunch date about a couple years out of the university.

We had "sizzling bulalo" at a local restaurant. Incidentally, I didn't have a special someone at that time and neither did she. We walked around the city enjoying our easy companionable conversation and eventually ended the day with a simple, "O ano? Tayo na? Tayo na!"

And that was it.

We just went steady for a little over 3 months before we decided to "elope" (which is material for another story - perhaps for the next anniversary)

But I'm wandering off again - which was, ironically, the way my thoughts actually swirled and twirled when I was asked the question at hand.

How did I know for sure that Myla was the one?

I remember thinking, "Is she the prettiest girl I've ever dated?" Nah. "Is she a great cook?" Definitely no. I was (and I'd like to think "am still") way better in the kitchen. "Is she particularly sweet or thoughtful?" Maybe, but I had other relationships before where I was treated like royalty. "Is she smart?" Well, I'm smarter. "Is she good in b... I'd rather not include that here.

For a moment, I didn't know what to answer. And for the smallest few minutes I began to even doubt if I did the right thing of marrying her.

But then, an unexpected memory suddenly surfaced.

It was so far removed from that present situation, even now I wonder how it crept up in my cluttered excuse for a brain.

Then again, maybe it was no accident at all...

...because that's when I realized I was looking at the question wrong.

It's not whether Myla is perfect. It's not whether she's the best of the best of all the girls I've loved before (yes, that's from that Julio Iglesias song).

One can go on in life and say, "This person is the best for me" and then along the way meet someone better. And if that's going to be our criteria for deciding who's best for us, then we'll never find the “right” person.

There's no sense in looking for "the best" because "the best" is, at best, relative.

We'll always meet someone who's better looking, a better cook, a better lover, a better this and a better that.

Your "best" now will only last till you see "better".

The question was not about "why" I knew Myla was the one.

It was about how "I" knew she was the one.

It was not about her. It was about me.

And there, finally, came my firm reply.

I knew Myla was the one because I was willing to care for her and stand by her no matter who she was and no matter who she may become in the future.

If she nagged at me about whatever she felt nagging at me about, I knew I'd fight back, but I'd never leave her because of it.

If she tried to stop me at things I liked doing, I knew I'd argue and defend myself, but I'd give in eventually.

If she starts to insist on doing one thing and I wanted to do another, I knew I'd probably give her a piece of my mind, but I'd, sooner or later, let her have it her way anyway.

If she got to my nerves for her incessant and annoying badgering, I knew I'd snap at her, but I'd apologize afterwards and we'd make up and make love...ly photo albums for our kids... Whew!

If she got sick and couldn't care for herself to the extent that I'd have to carry her to the bathroom and clean her up myself, I'd do it without second thought.

Some people may think that's a bit too melodramatic and all, but I don't care.

It's the truth.

That's what marriage is for me and the moment I realized all these things about Myla and I that afternoon when we decided to throw caution to the wind and just go live together, I knew for sure she's the one.

And she’s been the one for 10 years now – and hopefully, for another 10,000 years more.

:-)

Epilogue:

In case you're wondering what that strange unexpected thought that came to me was, it was a memory I have of when my father died several years earlier after months of painful battle with cancer.

Of all things, I remembered words my mother said amidst tear filled sobs while sitting by her lifeless husband.

"Kahit habambuhay ko na lang syang aalagaan at pagtitiisan sa sakit nya. Basta buhay lang sya."

Doesn't that embody the entire essence of marriage?

It does for me.

Happy 10th Anniversary, Myla.

I love you so much.

Of Individualism

If there are a million people saying blood is blue and there is only one person that says it is red, does that make him wrong and the rest correct?

Would you stop breathing just because people say that the air is contaminated and it would kill you? (What are they breathing in, in the first place? Water?)

Would you be afraid to travel by sea if people tell you the world is flat and you would fall off the edge if you wander too far?

If I cut myself, who bleeds?

Is it proper to alter your moral judgment just to accommodate ignorance, double standards and most people's warped sense of right and wrong?

There was once a farmer and his son who were walking home from the field alongside their trusty carabao.

On the way, they heard some people saying, "Look at that farmer letting his poor son walk with him when he can let him ride the carabao."

The farmer looked at his son and said, "They're right." So he let his son ride the animal.

Some distance away, they heard another group of people saying, "Look at that ungrateful son riding the carabao while his old father is walking. Has he no respect for elders?"

The son immediately got off the carabao and allowed his father to be the one to ride the animal.

A few meters away, a number of people saw them and said, "Look at those two idiots taking turns riding the carabao when they can both ride it."

Hearing this, the farmer and his son both got atop the carabao and continued home, now both riding the beast.

A short distance away from their own house, they passed another group of people saying, "Look at those two ingrates riding the carabao after they had worked it on the field all day! Have they no pity for the poor animal?"

The farmer and his son looked at each other and in exasperation, carried the carabao through the remainder of the way.

Who is foolish?

Everyone is gifted with intellect, judgment and a conscience. Each of these is not in perfect proportion with the others but each person definitely possessing all three. Thus, everyone is capable of making their own decisions for themselves.

They do not need others to do it for them.

If you get burned, learn from it. Seek advice for some time, but not always. Follow some advice you are given, but not all of it.

Life is a lesson. We can't have others learn it for us. Others can show us the way, provide guidance, offer some help, but it is we who would walk it, we who would live it.

It is true that people are social beings by nature. Man is inevitably connected, one way or another, to others.

From the moment we are conceived from the intimate union of our parents, to the time the doctor pulls us out of the womb, to the time we encounter our first childhood friends and sweethearts, to the fulfillment and disillusionment of our dreams, to, even, the silent mourners by our deathbeds, we are social.

As such, our actions have social repercussions.

Society judges our actions by the measure provided by norms, mores and values laid down by eons of experience and co-existence. There are even instances wherein written laws are no longer needed to determine the validity of certain actions. An inner voice tells us whether we're doing good or otherwise.

This is a generally accepted fact in human society. It is one of the basic foundations of sociological structure.

Yet, this is not absolute.

Man has a weakness.

He is not infallible.

No amount of experience, technology, knowledge and power can change the fact that man is not, by any stretch, perfect.

Thus, his standards also are, by no means, absolute.

Fact is, that all accepted norms of behavior started out as an extraordinary act.

History teaches us that not because we don't understand something, makes it evil, not because we can't do something, makes it impossible, not because people say something is wrong, makes it so.

Yes, man is social. But he is also an individual. Truth of the matter is that the individuality of man defines the quality of the social structure. the diversity of human beliefs and motivations, purifies and characterizes any given society.

What is the point, then?

One cannot live his life in the perpetual shadow of another's existence and beliefs, much less the society's.

He must live out his life as an individual in an interconnected society. He must follow societal rules, only as far as his own individuality dictates. He must never compromise his own standing on issues that would nullify the veracity of his own intellect, judgment and conscience.

Bandwagonism, gossip, malicious intrigue and singularism are the enemies of individualism and, in effect, of defined social structure.

Let a man live his life.

Help him if you may. Guide him if you can. Offer advice if you have it. But let him live his own life.

If he gets burned, let him, and hope that his scars would remind him of the lesson he should have learned. This is not abandonment or exercised apathy. This is the essence of applied democracy.

In doing so, not only are you keeping yourself in your proper place as a peer, but you are also taking part in the process of strengthening his character, like gold tested and purified in fire.

On the other hand, never compromise what you believe in to be true, just to give way for meddlers.

Stand for what you believe is true, and dear and pure. If you fall, accept it, learn from it and stand and move on. Never let your individuality be unnecessarily clouded by false exhortations of what is socially acceptable, and morally upright. Half of the people saying this don't even know what those terms truly mean.

We all live interconnectedly in this world, but our interconnection ends where another person’s right to live his own life, begins.

After all, you wouldn't want others to tell you how to live your own life, nor would you want to be the singular authority on how people should live their lives, right?

Of Chameleons And Men

Things aren't always as they seem.

Sometimes people are concealed deep within multiple layers and it's up to you to peel them back to reveal the truth within.

That is, if you're even allowed as far.

People who are able to do that are either experienced chameleons or on their way to becoming one. Be warned though, the road to creating an unbreakable facade is like a room full of mirrors. You can easily get lost in the maze of reflections and re-reflections and the result may be more grotesque than you expect.

A chameleon only blends with the background but it's essence remains the same. If you're able to change your appearance, you better know how to get back to what's real, because sooner than you'll expect, the thin line that separates the two becomes blurred and obfuscated until it totally vanishes. A strong anchor is necessary. Otherwise you'll never know where lies end and the truth begins.

Most people say they are strong enough to withstand temptation but even the strongest can only take so much. There will always be a point when something starts to give. And then everything shatters in an infinitesimal shower of confusion.

But get this, are you even sure that what you're resisting isn't the truthful reality you're supposed to be living in?

What if the life you're trapped in now is the lie? What if the reason why you can't let go of something is because that's supposed to be your true reality? What if the reason why fate shoves you the same old crap over and over again is because it's its way of telling you, "Hey dumbass! This is what's supposed to be for you! This is your destiny! Why can't you get it into that thick skull of yours!"

Everything changes drastically then, doesn't it?

Then again, I could be wrong.

In fact, I'm pretty sure I am.

Paradigm shift.

Coffee Fix

I can't remember when I developed my steamy love affair with coffee.

All I know is that I've been drinking it forever.

There was even a time back in college when breakfast, for me, was just coffee and Marlboros. Whenever I felt like that was not enough, I'd whip up some orange juice to go with the coffee and the cigs.

I drink two mugs of coffee in the morning, a cup (since we don't have mugs) in the office by mid-morning, another cup by mid-afternoon, a mug once I get home and another mug at night while working late.

If what they say about coffee being healthy is true, then I should be in tip-top shape by now.

I wonder if my mom fed me coffee when I was a baby...

Hmmm...

I'd better go ask her.

Of Kindness

Kindness is an act of goodness stemming from the inner recesses of the heart and comes out instinctively and spontaneously like spring waters and fruits in season. It needs no reason, nor does it need motivation.

Kindness and the ability to show it when least expected is proof of man's innate goodness and superiority as a specie.

The capacity for kindness requires intellect and high understanding - such as not consciously exercised but is exuded as an aura. It is an embedded program that kicks in at the right moment and at the right instance.

Notice that when you are in a situation where you are about to show kindness, there is always a small inkling of the question, "why?" To give in to the inkling means to hesitate and to debate with oneself on the act's veracity - thus diminishing the value of the act of kindness.

For it to be pure and true and worthwhile, kindness when gushing forth like living waters should not be stemmed, nor shall it be dammed. Let it pour to quench the fire in the world's throat and in the world's belly.

September 18, 2001

It was 11:15 am on a bright Thursday.

He was administering an exam to his History class and only a few of his students were left still taking the test. He was checking the papers as they were submitted to him, not so much as to make good use of his time, but more to find something to do other than check his watch every 30 seconds, willing it to move faster.

Finally, as he was writing the score on the last paper he was checking, he chanced a quick glance at his watch. It was 11:30 am. Any second now, the bell will ring and he'll be free to go.

Moments passed by in almost deliberate slow motion until finally in a blast that shot a fresh injection of adrenaline in his veins, the bell rang.

He quickly gathered his things and cleared his desk, fumbling with the test papers as he went.

He noticed his hand shaking and he sheepishly smiled to himself.

Damn, he was nervous.

He has never felt this giddy since the first time he went out on a date back in high school.

It was a strange but welcome feeling.

He half ran, half walked to the faculty room which was, fortunately, empty. He wasn't exactly in the mood for answering questions why he's heading off in such a hurry and why he has been fidgetty all morning.  Most of his coleagues were probably already in the cafeteria enjoying their lunch and so he quickly, deposited the exam papers on his locker, slammed it shut and headed out.

In 10 minutes flat, he was at the City Hall where his lady love was waiting along with her mother, some family members and a few close friends.

"Did you get the papers?" he asked as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek, kissed her mother's hand and greeted the rest of the group with a bright smile.

"Yes it's already here. Let's go." she answered as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

He was about to ask everyone to wait when his "Tatay" arrived just in time. He made the customary introductions and amidst smiles and handshakes, he said, "I think we're all set to go."

They all boarded the jeep his lady love's brother lent them for the day and sped through the streets to the other side of town - the Justice Hall.

"How was the exam?" she attempted at small talk as she slipped her hand between his.

"It was okay. I finished checking the papers already." he replied smiling.

Both fell silent for the next few minutes and the only sound was the roar of the jeep's engine and the drone of conversation of the other passengers with them. They both just looked at their intertwined fingers holding on to each other like life depended on it.

As they both lifted their gaze to each others' face, their eyes met. Their meaningful smiles belied the silence of their lips and they settled on each others warm company for the rest of the trip.

After a few more minutes, they arrived at the Justice Hall.

Everyone alighted and tried their best to straighten their clothes and look their best.

"The judge's office is at the end of the hall. He should already be there waiting for us." he announced to everyone and they took to follow him.

He took her lady's hand and led her inside the hall and they walked hand in hand towards the judge's office while everyone else walked and talked behind them.

True to his words, the judge was already there waiting and he smiled at them amiably as they entered.

"Well, it's almost noon so I guess it'd have to be 'good afternoon'." he said good naturedly as he reached out to shake the elderly man's hand.

"Well, good afternoon to all of you as well." the judge replied with a big smile and added, "Are we all here? Shall we begin?"

Everyone nodded in approval.

He held her hand tightly and she responded by squeezing his hand back as the short and simple ceremony went underway.

And as the judge finished the rites saying, "Well young man, you may kiss your bride!" he looked straight at her eyes and said in the simplest yet most profound way, "I love you" to which she coyly answered, "I love you more".

And they kissed.

Random Thoughts

Attitude affects learning as much as intelligence does. Those who are willing to learn will learn and those who think they know enough are doomed to mediocrity.

The best thing about loving and being hurt is that you get to know what true love really is. For as gold is tested in fire, and so will love be perfected in pain.

Perfection lies in being one with nature. Since man is, by nature, imperfect, his perfection then lies in his imperfection.

The biggest mistake that an intelligent person can make is the hasty assumption that he is better than the person next to him.

Man marches for victory. His mind justifies war. Payback must come, thus, leave him back. Tests loom. Cares rise. Be unswayed.

Of Things Out Of Reach

In that movie "Men of Honor" with Cuba Gooding Jr. and Robert De Niro, Cuba's character was asked what made him so determined to succeed in anything he set his mind to, and he said, "Because they told me I couldn't have it..."

That perhaps is the kind of character we need to be cultivating in ourselves.

When things just seem out of reach, outrightly impossible to achieve and when odds simply tell you, "You can't have it", that's the time we should silently recollect and ask ourselves, "How much do I want it?"

And if you want it bad enough, then go get it. as long as it is within the bounds of morality and ethics, then go ahead and get it. Own it. Live it. Enjoy it.

There is a sense of pure joy and victory here; when you're being discouraged right off the bat and you simply shake off the discouragement and set out to accomplish that which they say you cannot have. That's character.

But there simply are things that can not be had - and no measure of determination and character can make you have them.

But then again, sometimes, impossible just takes a little longer.

You just gotta have faith.

The Boss

Once all body parts assembled and decided to elect a boss for the entire body. 

Many parts applied.

The brain said, “I should be the boss because I am the one who thinks, recognizes and makes the decisions”. 

The heart said, “I should be the boss because without my continuous pumping of blood all of you are dead”. 

The eye said, “I give vision, and without vision all of you are as good as dead”. 

The legs said, “I should be the boss because without me you can’t go anywhere”.

Then the asshole also decided to apply. 

All other body parts laughed so hard at the asshole's desire to be the boss.

They could not stop laughing for a long time. 

This made the asshole upset and so he closed up in silent protest.

After a while, the entire body was feeling the effects of the asshole’s rebellion.

Soon the brain clouded up and was no longer as sharp. The eyes blurred and had difficulty focusing. The heart started to palpitate and beat erratically. The legs grew wobbly and did not have enough strength to stand, much less go anywhere.  

They realized the importance of the asshole and so they unanimously decided to make him the boss.

The asshole was so happy, he immediately opened up, let go of all the crap and the body went back to normal.

The moral of the story: 

You don’t have to be a brain to be the boss…

…An asshole can do the job.

Author’s Note: I read this somewhere but I can’t remember where. I just tried to re-tell the story the best I could.

Gift or Curse

I'm not trying to sound like Spider-Man.

I like the guy but I like Superman and Wolverine better.

Anyway, what I'm talking about is my ability to talk to myself in the second person and listen in the third (sometimes even the fourth depending on my psycho-analytic mood).

Although this has been a great help inasmuch as refining my values and analyzing my beliefs are concerned, for the past few months, the revelations I have been uncovering have been becoming more and more disturbing than ever.

In fact, going through it, I usually imagine myself as St. John the Divine as he was being shown the Revelation of Jesus Christ or as Dante as he descended into the rings of his Inferno.

As I go through this process, more and more do I hope and grope for that elusive and non-existent "Reset Button", or better yet, the "Delete Button".

Oftentimes, it is easy to talk about moral, emotional and spiritual restructuring, but it truly is an impossible task when you can't let go of certain things that you need to.

My second person (the ever-dependable confidante, the one I talk to) espouses, I can just concentrate on the things I need to concentrate on such as family and work. He can take care of all other things I am still having an attachment to and I don't need to know or worry about them. Sounds great, except that I would still be privy to whatever he's up to and that knowledge alone is enough to get me off course like a ship with a broken gyroscope and compass and is caught in the middle of a tempest in the high seas.

My third person (the silent but discerning listener, who's also one hell of a bad ass) believes I usually create my own problems by deliberately refusing to let go of past attachments. He says I'm one greedy son of a bitch, wanting everything but refusing to compromise and giving no quarter whatsoever. He's convinced I have sticks the size of Redwoods up my ass and they're up too deep they're poking my medulla oblongata and my hypothalamus - which explains my inexplicable moral-spiritual-emotional attachments and quirks. He recommends I subject myself to a jumbo-sized enema and rectal surgery by none other than Vlad the Impaler.

My fourth person (the one with logic colder than deep-space ice) says the situation is easy. I just need to make a list of things that I don't really need. Emotions should be set aside as well as any kind of attachment when making the list. Once the list is complete, all I need to do is to let go of those things. Leave them behind and move on and never look back. he says, this is my primordial "Reset Button".

Both my second and my third disagree with him because they know that as soon as I follow his advise, all of them would inevitably disappear. My fourth seems unaffected by this prospect. He's for logical solutions and nothing more. This is the reason why my fourth is usually left uninvited during "Introspective Meetings". But somehow, he still manages to be in the loop with everything.

Sometimes I think he's psychic.

Before anyone of you guys get any ideas, I'm not going cuckoo.

Far from it. I've never felt more sane than ever before.

I think it's the rest of the world that's going crazy.

Thursday Bloody Thursday

Last Thursday was an emotional rollercoaster.

The initial “tamer” part of the rollercoaster happened when I went to my daughter’s school's children's party in line with the celebration of Children’s Month.

The party was fine. Despite my daughter throwing a tantrum early in the morning because of a "minor misunderstanding" with her mother regarding her hairstyle, she immediately lightened up as soon as we got to the school and she saw her friends.

They presented a Hawaiian dance and I think it was cute with all their costumes and inability to keep up with the beat. You can see they were having fun though. Some classes presented a variety of other dances and songs. It was fun and I enjoyed it.

When food was served during lunch, I heard some of her classmates complaining about not having enough cake or ice cream or not liking the way the spaghetti tasted or that the spring roll tasted funky or not being able to finish their food after just a few mouthfuls and all.

The usual whining that children at that age usually had.

My daughter was quiet though and tried to finish her food. I have always trained my children to finish their food the best they could. So she tried - in between glances to my direction. 

When she finished, she left half of her serving of chocolate cake which I let slide since my wife actually put a lot of it on her plate.

Overall, the party went okay.

In the afternoon, I joined my officemates to tend to another children's party. 

This time, it was in line with the City Government's own observance of Children's Month. We sponsored a Trick or Treat event for street children.

That's where the "gut-wrenching" part of the rollercoaster began.

When I arrived at the venue, the committee members were getting ready to feed the children. A local restaurant sponsored lunch for the streetchildren consisting of rice, fried chicken, buttered vegetables and a brownie.

It was pandemonium.

The children were rowdy and undisciplined. 

As soon as they saw that we were ready to distribute the food to them, they started yelling and shouting and scrambling to get their share. 

It reminded me of a movie where a wounded man accidentally slipped and fell into a piranha infested pool. Knowing, Hollywood, you probably know how it ended for the poor guy.

Fish food.

After noisily finishing up their food in a split second, the children saw that one of the committee members still had an unopened food pack. As soon as he announced, he's giving the food to whoever was still hungry, he got mobbed!

Huge mistake!

I was half expecting him to lose an arm or half a leg when 60 children lunged at him asking for their share of that one food pack. 

Poor guy in a pool of piranhas.

During the actual trick or treating activity to store owners in the city-owned mall, we got smart and assigned one marshall for every five children. We knew how stubborn these kids can be so we made it as manageable as possible for the marshalls. Before they did their rounds though, the children gave a special presentation. They sang three songs; the City Hymn and a couple other church songs.

It seemed as if the entire mall went silent when they began singing and I felt a small pinch in my heart as I listened.

The songs were sung in acapella. Amidst the dissonant sound and their off-key singing you can hear them actually try to please everyone. With every rise and fall of their small voices and every wave of their skinny arms with the simple choreography I saw, for the briefest moment, a flicker of hope in their young eyes. Hope that there is, somehow, some bright future awaiting them.

I don't easily get moved by these things. But I couldn't help but get glassy-eyed as I watched them sing.

I quickly blinked the threatening dam away and glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

The hypnosis ended as soon as the children finished their songs and started to get excited about all the goodies that'll start filling up their bags.

The rounds were completed without incident.

We fed them dinner afterwards and it was a sequel to their horror story of a lunch. 

Worse even, they started throwing food at each other. One boy even chased a little girl who was making faces at him and gave her a quick right-hook that hit her smack on the kisser - but not before she hurled a left counterpunch that would have put most Mexican boxers to shame.

The rollercoaster ride ended 30-minutes later.

That night, as I was huddled in front of my PC working, I remembered the entire day. It started playing in front of my eyes and right at the computer screen like an old movie.

Just as I was banishing the memory to concentrate on work, my kids came to me and gave me their customary goodnight kisses. My daughter was a bit more tender as she hugged me tight and said, "Love you Papa" before giving me a peck on the cheek.

It was then that the dam broke.

I wanted to rail and rant at the parents of those children we handled earlier in the afternoon. Their irresponsibility and inambition left those poor kids with a future that may be best described by Ninoy Aquino's favorite song - probably their parents' favorite videoke song as well.

From time to time, we get a glimpse of that ever widening chasm between the haves and the have nots. But none is probably more mocking in it's blatant ugly truthfulness as seeing the gap in the faces of young children.

I can, at least, do something about my own children.

But what about the rest?