Today I am reminded of Amy. She had been working with the company for 7 years when I joined them. She was one of my staff whose potentials I found worthy of promotion. So when an opportunity came, I promoted her to a supervisory position. She accepted it with much joy but months later she came to my office to share her anxieties about her new job. I shared with her tips on how to overcome these feelings and I could see her trying her best to apply them. She stopped coming and as months went on, I could see her performing to the delight of her immediate superiors.

Then one day after almost 5 years, she came asking me to transfer her to a lighter job because she felt pressured with the demands of having a new boss. I adviced her to allow adjustments to set in and she agreed. Months later, she came back and I could see that she was more anxious than her last visit. Her reason was still the same. So I called HR to look for a possible new assignment and informed her to come back to me after a week. She came back but didn't get to talk to me because I was on sick leave. When I got back two days later, I asked my secretary to call her in but was told that she didn't come to work that day. While having lunch, the Emergency Room staff called me to say that Amy was being resuscitated by the team because she was found by her eldest son hanging in her bedroom. After more than an hour, they declared her dead.

Up to this time, I can't help but ask myself, will she be dead if she was able to see me that day I asked her to come? I know that only God knows the answer but this question keeps popping into my mind whenever I think of her. Since Amy is celebrating her 5th death anniversary today I thought about it again. I decided to talk openly about it this time because I believe it can produce emotional release and even joy. This is what I call the "Ministry of Remembering."

Our chaplain once said, if a departed person comes to mind, don't put it off. PRAY, it may be the most important thing you do today. A mass will be said in her memory and I hope this will help in easing the burden.

Dream Of A Child

Hello, my little darling,

I can feel you start to move inside,

you fill my heart with so much love,

you fill my very soul with pride.

This was thirty two years ago,

it was late evening, nearly midnight,

it was then I started to dream,

about what life has in store for you:

I dreamt that you'd graduated,

so you must have been about eighteen,

and you'd grown into such a fine woman,

in fact, one of the finest ever seen.

You were a terrific artist,

you'd reach to enormous heights,

and your beauty and your character,

were only two of your many strengths.

You had such a gentle spirit,

so warm hearted and full of grace,

a quietly focused achiever,

a gentle determined look upon your face.

You were my only child,

but still, I felt so wonderfully blessed,

to have any child is a blessing,

but it's so wonderful to have the very best.

Like most good things in life,

that dream it had to end,

and mothers don't have extraordinary daughters,

even less have their daughter as a very good friend.

But my friend and extraordinary Peachy,

dreams they can come true,

and I no longer have to dream asleep,

because I'm awake and looking at you.

It's the time of the year that every school has been waiting for: PROM SEASON. Most of those who experienced a prom have taken from it at least one utterly unforgettable memory to laugh about, cringe over or cherish. So today, I feel like going down memory lane. Care to join me? Here is how I spent mine 35 years ago.

My highschool was an all-girl catholic school so back in the late 60s, we celebrated it just among us girls. Imagine us all dressed up in our formal dresses dancing with a girl schoolmate. Corny but that was how it was. That is why when I entered college, I was really looking forward to prom night. At first I was worried that I might not experience the real meaning of prom night because I was again enrolled in an all-girl catholic college. But I later on discovered that they allowed us to bring dates.

For months, all I did was go over magazines to choose what style of gown to wear, which style of shoes & bag to use and of course what hairstyle to have done. A week before prom night, I was rushed to the hospital due to high fever and vomitting. I was a later diagnosed to have typhoid fever.

I had no choice but to stay away from this event after I got discharged from the hospital because doctor strictly left instructions that I stay in bed for another week. As I got to my boarding house, I started crying, looking out the window ... I didn't want my roommates to see me crying, but I was hurting so bad. For me the prom is like the holy communion of dating - a rite of passage that, with all its expectations and reservations, is an experience in itself.

As I was staring outside the window, I never realized that a person was crossing the street to our boarding house. As he came closer, I recognized my date. He was with two other guys & a classmate of mine. The other guy whose date comes from another school invited me to their prom which was going to be held in tow weeks. At first, I was hesitant to accept the invitation because I didn't know anyone there. But later on changed my mind. I was very glad that we had so much fun. We danced all night to the hit songs of the following artists played by a band known as The Tiltdown Men: The Beatles, Bee Gees, Gary Lewis, Herman's Hermits & Diana Ross & the Supremes, Beach Boys, The Lettermen & The Rolling Stones.

At that time, my date and I were just dating and getting to know each other. Little did I know we were going to be married 3 years later. What made this prom so memorable was I felt like a princess the whole night & I was so much in love that I saw no one else except him. It was a truly wonderful experience and I am very thankful to my date for seeing to it that I get to experience the prom which only happens once in a girl's lifetime.

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine." It was beating strongly, but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other piece put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.

The people stared. How can he say his heart is more bautiful, they thought? The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed. "You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."

"Yes," said the old man. "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. Sometimes I have given a piece of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges...giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have been waiting for. So now do you see what true beauty is?"

Th young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embrace and walked away side by side.

Is there anyone you would like to give a piece of your heart to this Valentine's Day?

People wonder why the jobs in this country have disappeared.
For example....what's happened to all of the textile mills???
Well, this might have something to do with it......








What can you say about this? A great weekend to all of you!!!

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by.

The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.

When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house," he said, "my gift to you."

What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in a home he had built none too well.

So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. An important point we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized, we would have done it differently.

Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall, build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity.

A stock clerk was sent to clean up a storeroom in Maui, Hawaii. When he got back, he was complaining that the storeroom was really filthy and that he had noticed dried mouse or rat droppings in some areas. A couple of days later, he started to feel like he was coming down with stomach flu. He complained of sore joints and headaches and began to vomit. He went to bed and never really got up again. Within two days he was severely ill adn weak. His blood sugar count was down to 66, and his face was white and eyeballs were sunken. He was rushed to the ER at Pali-Momi, where he was diagnosed to be suffering from organ failure. He died shortly before midnight.

No one would have made the connection between his job and his death had it not been for the doctor who specifically asked if he had been in a warehouse or exposed to dried or mouse droppings at any time. They said there is a virus (much like the Hanta virus) that lives in dried rat and mouse droppings. Once dried, these droppings are like dust and can easily be breathed in or ingested if a person does not wear protective gear or fails to wash face and hands thoroughly. An autopsy performed on the clerk confirmed the doctor's suspicions.

This is why it is extremely important to ALWAYS carefully rinse off the tops of canned sodas or foods, and to wipe off pasta packaging, cereal boxes, and so on. Almost everything you buy in a supermarket was stored in a warehouse at one time or another, and stores themselves often have rodents.

Most of us remember to wash vegetables and fruits but never think of boxes and cans. The ugly truth is, even the most modern upper class super store has rats and mice. And their warehouse most assuredly does! Whenever you buy any canned soft drink & juices, please make sure that you wash it with water and soap or if that is not available, drink it with a straw.

Please share this message to the people you care about.

With cosmetic surgery a trend for almost all walks of life, you sometimes wonder how this person you're meeting for the first really look. You admire their beautiful face, big breasts, sexy body, flawless skin, etc only to realize later on that nothing is original with them anymore. How does this make you feel? Deceived? Here is a story that my friend emailed me the other day and I find it worth posting.

A middle-aged woman had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital. While on the operating table she had a near death experience. Seeing God she asked, "Is my time up?" God said, "No you have another 43 years, 2 months and 8 days to live. "

Upon hearing this, the woman decided to stay in the hospital and have a face lift, liposuction , and a tummy tuck. She even had someone change her hair colour. Since she had so much more time to live, she figured , she might as well make the most of it. She was released from the hospital but while crossing the street on her way home, she was killed by a car.

Arriving in front of God, she demanded, "I thought you said I had another 43 years? Why didn't you pull me out of the path of that car?" God replied, "Sorry but I didn't recognise you."

What makes you coo in public, travel thousands of miles just to spend a weekend baby-sitting, weigh your wallet down with cute snapshots, and simply feel terrific? A grandchild, of course!

The wonder of it all takes every new grandparent by surprise. No one is ever quite prepared for the overwhelming emotion that a newborn grandchild evokes. Joan Holleman and Audrey Sherins said that as the years go on the friendship that develops between grandchild and grandparent can enrich and reward both generations.

As a grandma of almost 7 years, I would like to share with you the many joys I have experienced in grandparenting:

• when my child gave me a grandson, it was like having my cake and eating it, too.
• baby-sitting my grandson is a labour of love; the only compensations are hugs & kisses.
• the first sounds my grandson made were sweeter than my favorite love song.
• the reason I need a large purse is to hold pictures of my grandson.
• there's nothing like my grandson's smile to make me forget my worries.
• my grandson is the bonus for all the work I did as a parent.
• as a grandma, I can enjoy with my grandson, the things I didn't get to do with my child.
• patience is what I learned for all the "whys?" of my grandson.
• spending time with my grandson is life's best preventive medicine.

Being a grandma is one of the joys of growing older. And what could be sweeter than having an admirer who believes you can answer all of life's mysteries?

Have you ever wished that things were somehow different for you? Have you ever asked yourself "How come my friend can afford to have a big house while I don't?" "I wish I had the chance to travel to other countries " or "Why don't I have the latest car model like my neighbor?" or maybe express regrets like, "I could have been successful just like my former classmate" - and many other wishes and longings just like these.

All of us may have felt this way at least once in our lives. Too many times we forget what we have and concentrate on what we don't have. What is one person's worthless object is another's prize possession. It is all based on one's perspective just like this story:

One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people can be. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.

On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?" "It was great, Dad." "Did you see how poor people can be?" the father asked. "Oh, Yeah" said the son. "So what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.

The son answered, "I saw that we have one dog and they have four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.

We have a small piece of land to live and they have fields that go beyond our sight. We have servants who serve us, but they serve others. We buy food, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."

With this the boy's father was speechless. Then his son added, "Thanks for showing me how poor we are."

This story makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for all the bounty we have, instead of worrying about wanting more... the world will be a happier place indeed.

I'VE BEEN TAGGED by Friday's Child so here are the Three Meme:

3 Names You Answer To
* Tina
* Tins
* Cristina

3 Parts of Your Heritage
* British
* Filipino
* Japanese

3 Things That Scare You
* Rat
* Snake
* Gun

3 Everyday Essentials
* Bathing
* Praying
* Working

3 Things You’re Wearing
* Reading Glasses
* Bracelet
* Watch

3 Favorite Songs
* Never My Love - The Associations
* Story of My Life - Neil Diamond
* Cherish - The Lettermen


3 Things About the Opposite Sex that Appeals to You
* Clean cut appearance
* Manner of dressing
* Eyes

3 Things You Want in a Relationship
* Love
* Honesty
* Trustworthiness

3 Favorite Hobbies
* Surfing the net
* Cross stitching
* Reading inspirational/motivational stories

3 Things to Do Before You Die
* Settle all financial obligations
* Travel to a foreign country
* See my granchild/granchildren grow up

3 Ways You’re Stereotypically Female (or Male)
* hairstyle
* eyebrows
* legs

2 truths & 1 lie (in no particular order)
* have very good people skills
* can sing & dance pretty well
* can drive a car



3 People You’re Tagging
* Pond Perspective
* Cerebytes
* Varieties of Life