Mom, on your 51st birthday, I want you to meet
her. Though I know very little about her, she reminds me everything about you. Though
I’ve met her some days ago, I’m so inspired that through her, I was able to reminisce
the days when you took care of me. And though we seldom see each other, through
her, your beauty as the gentle mother of eight remains in me.
When I met her, I remember when I asked you to buy me a set
of crayons. You didn’t say yes. But you did buy. Only that it took a week
before you can afford to buy one. I almost lost my patience there and have
already forgotten my request. But when the time I held those crayons into my
hands, I can still remember how I played with those colors – the hue I combined
and the texture I applied in a complicated but jolly way. I was just so happy.
Mom, when I met her, I remember my school days then that
upon waking up in the morning, my breakfast, warm water for my bath, school
uniforms, shiny shimmering black shoes, my kiddy lunchbox, and a couple of
coins for my snacks were all ready. By the way, there were seven of us if you
can still recall – seven of us who woke up every day seeing everything prepared
for school. And to add: you were also our alarm clock that kept on repeating
every after we snooze upon hearing your voice. Were you a superhero?
When I met her, I remember how you still accept me even if I
stole money from your pockets and wallets many times just for me to spend my
day for computer games.
When I met her, I remember when I scolded you because for
three straight hours, we were so hungry and exhausted of falling in line for my
college enrollment. I walked out and left you there. And when I turned back,
you were following me and invited me to the university canteen and together we
ordered and ate cakes. I was speechless while eating the cake. I could not
express then that it was the sweetest cake I ever tasted!
When I met her, I remember one of my birthdays when I did
not show up at home and instead celebrated my special day with my friends. When
I went home the following day, I saw your “linukay” and “pancit” served at the dining
table. I couldn’t contain to imagine how you felt that day.
When I met her, I remember when I was being hardly lashed by
Papa because of my stubbornness. You covered and insistently protected me from
the hit. You told me to hide. And I saw your tears in the dark.
When I met her, I remember leaving you for my seminary life.
I kept that dream of becoming a priest for years. I never shared it to you. And
when I revealed it, you were deeply hurt. But you were with me when I took the
bus – ensuring me a safe trip and a meaningful journey.
When I met her, I remember you standing at my side while
wearing my habit for my first evangelical profession. I saw your tears lighted
by joy.
When I met her, I saw many “you.” That’s why mom, I want you
to meet her. You need to meet her. I’m not only attracted to her but I’m also
falling in love with her.
Mom, consider her as my birthday gift for you. Though I’m
far from you, she’s near to you. And you can actually meet her now if you wish
to. I’ll be glad to hear that!
You might not believe this but her name is the same as yours
– Lydia. And it’s God who sent her to me and now to you. And I want you to
introduce her to our family and to our entire neighborhood. Tell them that she
can be found in the Bible… in the New Testament: Acts 16:14: “A certain woman named Lydia, a worshipper
of God, who was listening to us… the Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to
what was said by Paul…”
Mom, you and Lydia has something in common: a kind of heart
that is willing to listen and to welcome God’s words.
Mom, happy 51st birthday!
PS: Yes… I’m taken. I’ll keep my promise, remember? Jesus
Christ is my life.
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