I am Mae German. 34 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by 
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The Writer Within He Was Lost And Is Found.
The Writer Within He Was Lost And Is Found. | He Was Lost And Is Found. |
| Tuesday, 10 February 2009 | |
Luke 15:11-32: I have heard and read such stories before but let me share another story now. I am writing about this not because I find this man extra-ordinary and not because he has touched the hearts of a lot of people. He was a loner and he was usually withdrawn from the crowd, but I happened to pass by and noticed him from a distance. We talked and I listened to him a lot of times. I never knew that time will come that I'd be writing about him. Although I am leaving a lot of details behind. Details that you may have once encountered in your life or witnessed on some other people's lives. Anyway, I am not writing a book here. Just a story that is much the same as some of the stories that you've read in your lifetime. A story of a boy just as ordinary as the boy you've met once or many times in your everyday journey. A boy that I have met in April of 1996. I've never seen him again since then. And I will never see him again. At least not the same boy, anyway. But a totally changed man. Someday. He was born two hours before midnight struck on the 7th of September, 1976. For practical reason, he was delivered by a midwife inside their humble abode owned by a vinegar-seller in Mariveles, Bataan. His parents lived most of their lives as husband and wife, away from each other. While his father worked in Middle East, his mother got a job in town, working in a garments' factory to make both ends meet for their growing family. Her mother was pregnant with his sister when his father took for departure for the first time. He was nearly one. "Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same..." according to The Fray. Right. I can just imagine the long days and the many cold nights some parents endure just so they can give their children better future. But I know how it is to grow up without a father in sight. They all got by. His father would just eat banana cue for one whole day while looking for a job. They would eat fried fish for lunch and the same fish, with a little tweaking, would be served for dinner. Pangat as some would call it. The boy was brought up and fed with am (pinaghugasan ng bigas -- water from rice) on the days that they were tight and couldn't buy milk. On days that his mother has to work, he's left under the care of her aunt. Sometimes her grandparents would playfully sneak him out. Being the first grandchild on both the mother's and the father's side, he was a ray of sunshine for the family. Later on, his father got a better job as an able-bodied seaman. One fortunate event led to another. About a decade after his birth, his youngest sibling was born. Life started singing a new song for the family. The kids were sent to a school of good quality. And by good quality, it meant an expensive one, too. He was given a good life. He was active in some church activities. He was once a member of the Knights of the Altar, a sacristan. His family wanted him to be a priest someday. He was a good kid and he's got all the attention that he needed from people, until he started taking life differently. He took the wheel and ignored the guidance of his family. Like most youngsters, he felt that all the attention that he got when he was growing up was slowly taken away from him. At some point, he was threatened by his siblings presence. He started looking for more attention when it wasn't necessary. And came the time that he felt accepted not by his own family but by some people that he calls "friends". Girls and sex. Given the good looks and the resources, he was exposed to these things early in life. He loved some but a lot of the ladies, he made them cry. What was painful was he even made her mother weep. Nonetheless, his family remained behind him, pushing him to do better in life. Always supporting him. In high school, someone came along that he started dreaming of a better life. There was a dream of living happily ever after. Puppy love. First love. It was love. Until circumstances have pulled them apart. The girl had to leave for another country. They made a promise that they'd keep in touch. They did until one fell for another. They were young. What do you expect? He took another turn in his life in college. He was involved with a girl who taught her to do drugs. Blinded by love, lust or even the hunger for attention and a companion in life, he has given everything for this lady. He has given her all the whims and the support that she needs. Like a mad dog he'd follow her wherever she goes and like mad man he'd bow down to a mortal like she was his queen. Until the power of her love-philter had ran out. He was engaged in a lot of fights besides doing drugs and diving in the bottles. His family brought him to rehab for a week when they thought he was really deep in shit on drugs. But he knew he's not. It was just a phase. Something that he did to get through to the people that he love most. A stupid thing some rebels do-- hurting the one you love. But then he got tired. He got tired seeing all those people treating him with ridicule and waiting for his great fall so they can laugh their asses out. And just the same, he got tired of seeing those who love him, never ceasing to support and embrace him even he has put them in humiliation. He could have had a good life in his country if only he has learned to grab every good opportunity that life has offered him. But he was blinded by the shimmering graciousness that he got from his own family. Mistook it for something else. He wanted a life of his own. Away from the shadows of his past. He wanted to prove that he could stand up on his own two feet and that he could have a better life away from the family that has supported him, his whole life. He left his country in 2001 and since then he has never returned. Not even once. On his own, he tried to start a life in a place where they say opportunities were overflowing. But given his illegal status, he was turned down once too many. He knocked on many doors and no one has opened. But gracefully, he moved on. One door to another until he was given a chance to prove to people that he can really do something. He did good in life, if I may say. When people refused to extend help for him, he would extend his arms to help his comrades who were in need. Some have abused his kindness, some have remained loyal to him. Forever they will be grateful for his generosity. With help from his relatives back home, he was able to start a small business, hoping he could be freed from his slavery someday. Ironically, money got on his way to freedom. Some bridges were burned. Business failed and he was back right from where he started. Not much money and nothing at home to fall back to. He was left with a decision-- stay put and just let life pass him by. He was aware of the complication of his life but he would just refuse to eat his pride and go home. For seven years he was wandering. Trying to dig the sand with his bare hands only to find out in the end that he has to dig again. The seawater have washed the sand back to the hole. Until something has made him realize that his world is not there. He shouldn't be building his castle near the sea. And he can never build one with his bare hands. Gone were the days that God would send the earth angels with halos and wings. Gone were the days that God would send us messages through a burning bush. But that does not mean He has abandoned us nor He has distanced Himself from us. He is our Father and He is still our Shepherd. He'd do anything to find us. And in this man's case, in a very peculiar way, he was found. We were given free-will since the beginning of time. He's made a decision. And it is a good one. The man finally comes to his senses and like in the Parable of the Lost Son, in humility, he decided to go home. And his family, who have been waiting for his homecoming, receives him with open arms, warm kisses and finally, tight embraces. I have faith that with much love of a family and hopefully with good friends, he will be restored. To you, the prodigal son, I bid goodbye. My prayer is that we'd never see nor hear from you ever again. And to the found one, I pray, with God's amazing grace, you will never be lost again. ******* In 1996, I met this boy. Although our paths have crossed again this year, I will never know if I am going to see him again. But knowing where he is and knowing how he is doing now, I feel good somehow. I am but a mere spectator of how God works in wonder in his life. And I am proud of what this boy has become and the man he will become. Thankful that he's found. |
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