It's all meant to be

Illustration by Sam Immanuel R. MacaisaREMEMBERING the previous years of my life, I am completely convinced how different “now” is from “then.” I grew up with perhaps all the luxuries any child could ask for because my mother had a stable job. I even recall that after my morning classes, I’ll just stay in my air-conditioned room playing Sega all day while my yaya spoon feeds me with whatever food I want.

However, that lifestyle just had to vanish after my mother suffered a stroke. I was 12 then. Mom’s savings were almost gone after the hospital bills. Add to that her daily medicines and therapies. The saddest news of mom’s stroke was that she can no longer work due to the attack’s permanent damage to her motor functions. From then on, instability lingered in our family.

Without permanent income, our family had been lucky enough to have my aunt helping us with our monthly expenses. I also became her “scholar” from my high school days until now at college. Indeed, I am very thankful for that. But as time passed, I feeling of shame started to become a heavy burden.

Pressures and expectations surrounded me. I can’t afford to flunk my studies, thinking that everything would end if I do so. To avoid this, I immersed myself in my studies and detach myself from others. The isolation continued until I met a college friend who managed to see through me.

“Everything happens for a reason. God has a beautiful plan for you, all he needs is your trust,” my friend told me. “Appreciate him at all times, not just during your blessings.”

Overwhelmed by pride, I defied what my friend said. I even blamed God in front of her for how he turned my life around. She just gave me a smile, perhaps hoping I’ll understand these things in time. I ignored everything we talked about until the time we talked about our irregular classmates. Most of them repeatedly flunk subjects for at least six years of their stay in UST.

My friend explained that most of them are rich so they could afford. Perhaps they’re like that because it’s not their money that they spend for their education, she added.

I immediately recalled our conversation about God and for the first time, I saw myself in the place of our irregular classmates. What if we are still rich, will I be like them? Perhaps. Knowing myself, I maybe bounded to that path.

Then, her words “everything happens for a reason” now echoes clearly in my mind. Now I understand her and His message.

This could be His way of not letting me astray.

Vol. LXXX, No. 7 • December 19, 2008

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