Savior
9:05. I’m still on a jeepney heading the city. As I take off, my mind was busy fabricating an excuse for being late at the first period class. I’m walking briskly praying hard for a miracle- that I may come on time (wishing my watch is late) that there’ll be no classes or that attendance hasn’t been checked. A dispatcher chanting Alangilan-UB-Lyceum denotes that I’ve crossed my way from Jollibee to Octagon. “One more”, I hear from the driver. Just before a guy raised his feet off the ground, I gather all the courage and pleaded: “Excuse Mister, may I go first? I’m in a hurry…please?” My heart leapt for a second when he turned around. In his face was a genuine smile made by his lips and there’s a sign of approval in his eyes. “Sure.” He said as he gave way. I find it hard to say thank you because of palpitation.
I enter the room, no miracle. A quiz is ongoing and according to my classmate I have been marked absent. I’m sitting for nothing. My mind and heart was left on a place where he stood. I’m still in shock for that kilig moment but what seem odd is that I feel a sharp pain on my head and as if a heavy object fell on my chest. Just a matter of split second and it’s gone.
Before eating lunch I went to the comfort room just to be surprised as I met him halfway. “Miss, this could be yours.” He said as he handed me my cell phone. I can’t feel its weight on my palm; still, I slip it on my bag. I was supposed to thank him when it rings. As I reached for it inside my bag, I can feel the vibration on my thighs. Why not? The phone is in my skirt’s pocket. I want to voice out my astonishment but he’s nowhere to be found. It was my classmate who texted, saying that they’re waiting for me. We ate together yet I don’t pay attention to any one of them. Something could be wrong, I thought.
I go ahead of them and my heart almost drop on our third encounter. He was sitting on one of the chairs; as if he’s expecting me. But he doesn’t say a word or make a move as I draw near. Just a meaningless stare. When I thanked him, he smiled but it lacks emotion.
“Can you help me?” he utter with uneasiness.
If only I can raise my eyebrows, I had. This is the very first I be dealing with a guy like him. And I’m not expecting him to give so much trust to a stranger like me.
“I have to decide whom to choose between my father and mother.” He continued.
“Can’t you have them both?”—that’s me stammering.
He shook his head. Then I say: “I don’t know them, how can I help you?”
“My mother is the best Mom in the world and I missed her. My father is with me but I always feel being rejected. It seems that I’m a big disappointment for him.”
Ouch! It really hurts. So this guy is helpless. What a cruel father he had!
I almost forgot that I’m the one talking when my mouth mumbles: “I think you better choose your father.”
He frowns. I explained: “Look..you and your mother have a good relationship, but between you and your father was an unresolved gap. Why don’t you try to make things better between the two of you? He deserved a second chance. If you will choose you mother, you’ll be forever apart from him and maybe make the matter worse. On the contrary you could get his approval and be reconciled.”
He was convinced. To end the conversation he said: “Jay here.” while motioning for handshake. He added a sincere ‘thank you’. He left just before my classmates come; giving me no time to say even a short ‘welcome’.
The usual reporting takes place. I feel very sleepy when my cellphone rings for three consecutive messages- all ending with the name Jay. So strange..first the invisible cellphone, next, my number known. The only real thing here is Jay. The messages:
Once in my life I met a good soul..so kind and caring.
Once in my life I met an angel…so sweet and thoughtful.
Once in my life I met you- a good soul and an angel.
Every life in this world was painted by God’s own hands. That’s why I’m thankful because as he painted my life, he included one color that will never fade: YOU.
Life give me a lot of things to learn- things I should keep and I should let go, things to forget and sometimes regret. We get hurt and cry, but why should I cry? When you’re still there to remind me to smile…
Sweet messages indeed, so I become an inspired listener. 4:00 pm, class dismissed. Past four- while standing on the waiting shed, I heard the group of male students talking:
“Jay has been absent for the whole day. What could have happened?”
“Maybe his Dad again.”
“But he texted me when he was on his way. He even told me that he found the woman of his dreams.”
Then more of my friends came. All of us about to ride in a single jeepney when someone questioned my being late. “Is it because of the traffic brought about by the accident” I heard it happened on D. Silang St. by the Jollibee's parking space, past nine this morning. "
My heartbeat triples, as if I’m gasping for breath.
The group of male students get in, still talking: “We must go straight to the hospital. Jay is seriously injured.”
“His father is too cruel to inform us too late. I can’t even detect a sign of concern in his voice. As if its okey for him to say that his son will die soon.”
“Poor Jay, will he really die?”
“Who knows? He’s badly hurt. His time maybe tomorrow, or the other day or today.”
That was the final blow – and everything went black. I don’t know how I reach home. That night I couldn’t sleep. It’s hard to believe that all along, I’ve been dealing to a ghost. If only I don’t go before him, he’s been safe. Life is really unfair. I’ve been save from physical injuries but not from heartache.
A week had passed. 9:05 same day and place. I’m late but who cares. I’m taking my time walking the crowded pathways and crossing the busy street. My mind drifted to nowhere. Just then my head banged to what I though to be a solid edifice, but I realized it was a man I bumped. He turned to me and said: “Wanna go first? I think you’re late.” His forehead was neatly bandaged. His eyes more lively, his face more lovely.
The next thing I knew is that I’m one of the passengers. All I can do is to stare at his fading figure as the jeep swerve for a turn. Then fear crept my veins. Will the same thing happen? Haven’t I learned my lesson? Am I not satisfied with the injury he got. Do I want real death for him?
It was late afternoon when I got a text message from him:’Meet me at the exit gate after class’. I did. And we have a date. We talk about a lot of things, exchange views and share laughter. He paused for a while and I take the hint. Moment of seriousness. I’m the first one to speak.
“Just wanna say thank you and sorry.”
He took a deep breath and said: “You know, even though Dad has not been a very good father to me, he has done something that make me thankful. It is when he gave me the name Jay. It reminds me of the most powerful name. Though mine is just the first letter and is nothing compared to Him- it always makes me feel His presence. So it’s not me who really saved you. If Jesus is not with me, I wouldn’t be that kind to you. And, he saved me too.”
I agreed. “So what’s happening between you and your Dad?” I asked curiously. “And your mother? Can I meet them?”
He looked sad. “ I can introduce you to my father, but my mother has died fifteen years ago. That’s why I missed her.”
A striking fact hit me, and it send chill to my bones. I can feel the hair in my spines raised…. I can feel my face turn pale and my body sweats cold. Then I thank God that I’ve done the right thing when I told him to choose his father. If not, he’ll be joining his mother and will never be with me. It’s true. Jesus has been always with us. Without him, who else will guide us in making the right decisions?
Our cellphone rings. We got the same message from a number new to both of us- 09195378447. Yet we know who is the sender- the one who is watching us all throughout…the real savior. It’s not hard to figure out that those numbers is equal to 0919JESUSHIR! Jesus said: I LOVE YOU. And we read His message aloud addressing each other. We pray together, expressing so much gratitude and saying I love you, too in return….
9:05. I’m still on a jeepney heading the city. As I take off, my mind was busy fabricating an excuse for being late at the first period class. I’m walking briskly praying hard for a miracle- that I may come on time (wishing my watch is late) that there’ll be no classes or that attendance hasn’t been checked. A dispatcher chanting Alangilan-UB-Lyceum denotes that I’ve crossed my way from Jollibee to Octagon. “One more”, I hear from the driver. Just before a guy raised his feet off the ground, I gather all the courage and pleaded: “Excuse Mister, may I go first? I’m in a hurry…please?” My heart leapt for a second when he turned around. In his face was a genuine smile made by his lips and there’s a sign of approval in his eyes. “Sure.” He said as he gave way. I find it hard to say thank you because of palpitation.
I enter the room, no miracle. A quiz is ongoing and according to my classmate I have been marked absent. I’m sitting for nothing. My mind and heart was left on a place where he stood. I’m still in shock for that kilig moment but what seem odd is that I feel a sharp pain on my head and as if a heavy object fell on my chest. Just a matter of split second and it’s gone.
Before eating lunch I went to the comfort room just to be surprised as I met him halfway. “Miss, this could be yours.” He said as he handed me my cell phone. I can’t feel its weight on my palm; still, I slip it on my bag. I was supposed to thank him when it rings. As I reached for it inside my bag, I can feel the vibration on my thighs. Why not? The phone is in my skirt’s pocket. I want to voice out my astonishment but he’s nowhere to be found. It was my classmate who texted, saying that they’re waiting for me. We ate together yet I don’t pay attention to any one of them. Something could be wrong, I thought.
I go ahead of them and my heart almost drop on our third encounter. He was sitting on one of the chairs; as if he’s expecting me. But he doesn’t say a word or make a move as I draw near. Just a meaningless stare. When I thanked him, he smiled but it lacks emotion.
“Can you help me?” he utter with uneasiness.
If only I can raise my eyebrows, I had. This is the very first I be dealing with a guy like him. And I’m not expecting him to give so much trust to a stranger like me.
“I have to decide whom to choose between my father and mother.” He continued.
“Can’t you have them both?”—that’s me stammering.
He shook his head. Then I say: “I don’t know them, how can I help you?”
“My mother is the best Mom in the world and I missed her. My father is with me but I always feel being rejected. It seems that I’m a big disappointment for him.”
Ouch! It really hurts. So this guy is helpless. What a cruel father he had!
I almost forgot that I’m the one talking when my mouth mumbles: “I think you better choose your father.”
He frowns. I explained: “Look..you and your mother have a good relationship, but between you and your father was an unresolved gap. Why don’t you try to make things better between the two of you? He deserved a second chance. If you will choose you mother, you’ll be forever apart from him and maybe make the matter worse. On the contrary you could get his approval and be reconciled.”
He was convinced. To end the conversation he said: “Jay here.” while motioning for handshake. He added a sincere ‘thank you’. He left just before my classmates come; giving me no time to say even a short ‘welcome’.
The usual reporting takes place. I feel very sleepy when my cellphone rings for three consecutive messages- all ending with the name Jay. So strange..first the invisible cellphone, next, my number known. The only real thing here is Jay. The messages:
Once in my life I met a good soul..so kind and caring.
Once in my life I met an angel…so sweet and thoughtful.
Once in my life I met you- a good soul and an angel.
Every life in this world was painted by God’s own hands. That’s why I’m thankful because as he painted my life, he included one color that will never fade: YOU.
Life give me a lot of things to learn- things I should keep and I should let go, things to forget and sometimes regret. We get hurt and cry, but why should I cry? When you’re still there to remind me to smile…
Sweet messages indeed, so I become an inspired listener. 4:00 pm, class dismissed. Past four- while standing on the waiting shed, I heard the group of male students talking:
“Jay has been absent for the whole day. What could have happened?”
“Maybe his Dad again.”
“But he texted me when he was on his way. He even told me that he found the woman of his dreams.”
Then more of my friends came. All of us about to ride in a single jeepney when someone questioned my being late. “Is it because of the traffic brought about by the accident” I heard it happened on D. Silang St. by the Jollibee's parking space, past nine this morning. "
My heartbeat triples, as if I’m gasping for breath.
The group of male students get in, still talking: “We must go straight to the hospital. Jay is seriously injured.”
“His father is too cruel to inform us too late. I can’t even detect a sign of concern in his voice. As if its okey for him to say that his son will die soon.”
“Poor Jay, will he really die?”
“Who knows? He’s badly hurt. His time maybe tomorrow, or the other day or today.”
That was the final blow – and everything went black. I don’t know how I reach home. That night I couldn’t sleep. It’s hard to believe that all along, I’ve been dealing to a ghost. If only I don’t go before him, he’s been safe. Life is really unfair. I’ve been save from physical injuries but not from heartache.
A week had passed. 9:05 same day and place. I’m late but who cares. I’m taking my time walking the crowded pathways and crossing the busy street. My mind drifted to nowhere. Just then my head banged to what I though to be a solid edifice, but I realized it was a man I bumped. He turned to me and said: “Wanna go first? I think you’re late.” His forehead was neatly bandaged. His eyes more lively, his face more lovely.
The next thing I knew is that I’m one of the passengers. All I can do is to stare at his fading figure as the jeep swerve for a turn. Then fear crept my veins. Will the same thing happen? Haven’t I learned my lesson? Am I not satisfied with the injury he got. Do I want real death for him?
It was late afternoon when I got a text message from him:’Meet me at the exit gate after class’. I did. And we have a date. We talk about a lot of things, exchange views and share laughter. He paused for a while and I take the hint. Moment of seriousness. I’m the first one to speak.
“Just wanna say thank you and sorry.”
He took a deep breath and said: “You know, even though Dad has not been a very good father to me, he has done something that make me thankful. It is when he gave me the name Jay. It reminds me of the most powerful name. Though mine is just the first letter and is nothing compared to Him- it always makes me feel His presence. So it’s not me who really saved you. If Jesus is not with me, I wouldn’t be that kind to you. And, he saved me too.”
I agreed. “So what’s happening between you and your Dad?” I asked curiously. “And your mother? Can I meet them?”
He looked sad. “ I can introduce you to my father, but my mother has died fifteen years ago. That’s why I missed her.”
A striking fact hit me, and it send chill to my bones. I can feel the hair in my spines raised…. I can feel my face turn pale and my body sweats cold. Then I thank God that I’ve done the right thing when I told him to choose his father. If not, he’ll be joining his mother and will never be with me. It’s true. Jesus has been always with us. Without him, who else will guide us in making the right decisions?
Our cellphone rings. We got the same message from a number new to both of us- 09195378447. Yet we know who is the sender- the one who is watching us all throughout…the real savior. It’s not hard to figure out that those numbers is equal to 0919JESUSHIR! Jesus said: I LOVE YOU. And we read His message aloud addressing each other. We pray together, expressing so much gratitude and saying I love you, too in return….
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