A Love Story
Circa 1960- My Dad wrote this article for the Campus Journal - the student newsletter of then Philippine College of Criminology where he was Assistant Editor. The article was neatly kept in our family album whose pages have yellowed through the years.
He was so smitten by my Mom and proposed to her in 1964. December the following year, they got married. It’s been a blissful marriage producing three daughters. Theirs is a beautiful story that saw through their deep love for each other being each other’s first and last love.
With permission from my Dad, I am sharing their love story with pride to the rest of the world. So here it goes…..
Again it is December, and once more the spirit of gladness prevails. Yes, we cannot deny ourselves the inevitable sense of joy creeping within us, the lingering thoughts for a white Christmas Day, the wonderful expectations of numerous gifts from friends and relatives. Truly, it’s Christmas. All this around, I can’t help but go with the flow of high spirits. And as I drift with the current, my thoughts turn back over the memory of a December like this, when a year ago today, I sensed super happiness.
It was during a Christmas Youth Conference somewhere up north when I met you. I very well remember that cloudless day. The fellowship was going on after a brief early morning worship. I tried to follow you with my unperturbed gazes, and when you caught me thus, I was quick to stoop down or look to other directions. At this instant, I felt a strange throb within me, something I can’t describe. I continued about my guilty gazes but on another unmolested try to glance at the direction where I last saw you, you were gone. I tried to find you; tried to search you in the crowd like I was looking a needle in a hay stalk. I was no more than one who has lost a treasure; something valuable as life. I was at this state when Junior, my fellow delegate from our place patted my back. I turned at him blankly and then turned my head away to continue the seemingly futile search, not knowing that you were already walking close to us. I learned later that you have inched yourself to get to where we were to obtain our names as you were busy collecting autographs.
But before I knew of your presence, my searching eyes move from head to head hoping that perchance I could pluck you out of the vast humanity till I saw a woman who I thought was you. A flicker of hope made my heart beat faster than I had to gasp for my breath; loud like the beating drums that drowned Junior’s attempt to get my attention to tell me of your presence.
The woman looked just like you in all proportions and my interest in you must have produced in me the illusion that I couldn’t mistake you for someone else, that I lost no time to start following her when she lost herself among the trees.
But then, Junior held me back. In my frenzy, I would have punched his nose, but the sight of your presence gave me such an electrifying shock that I stood there still as if I were caught by a magnet, yet alive for I knew that my heart was jumping with joy.
I do not know what followed next. I seem to have lost my senses at the feel of your nearness. Then you handed me a notebook with a glittering smile on your face and said, “would you mind writing your name”. As I took the notebook, all I could utter was, “I don’t mind at all”. I observed right there the fluency of your speech. While I wrote my name, I felt so warm, my fingers unsteady. I stole a glance at you and caught you look at me; a gaze which could have melted me if I were a rock of ice.
The following night was literary night. Each delegation was to present a number, either a song, a poem, a declamation or any contribution. You and your companion stood up, marched forward when requested to render a special number from your school. The special rendition turned out to be a song. What you said prior to the song is still fresh in my memory. “This is an old song, not sure if you will like it but the message it conveys is very uplifting.” Then you started the song. The audience was quiet; listening intently. All the while, I was restless but fervently listening while I cast occasional guilty looks at you.
Frankly, I still remember some lyrics of your song and if you were to call me by your side, I could recite it heartily and willingly. I liked its message that goes:
If you find your task is hard,
Try, try, try again
Time will bring your reward
Try, try, try again
All that other folks can do
Why with patience may not you
Only keep this rule in view
Try, try, try again.
I planned to approach you to lend me the songbook, but as other delegates rushed up to present their numbers, especially when our contribution was requested, I dropped the idea. I have, however, decided to myself to write to you about it as soon I got back to Manila. I don’t know; I cannot sing and therefore am presumed to have no love for songs, but then you made me look at life like it has become the lyrics of a lovely song.
I did write exactly, as planned. You were not selfish to answer my first letter together with a copy of the song with instructions on how to sing it by means of notes. Unfortunately, I do not know how to read notes so that the song remained unsung for quite some time. But again and again, I read the lyrics. Our regular weekly letter exchanges continued until February came. I still recall my introduction. “February is here again, it is welcomed by the popular, would you be my valentine? bits,” and how I wrote the same to you. Your answer was this, “Yes February is here again, a month so special to a lot of people, and for my answer,” the letter read, “I’ll be glad to be your valentine. Our school still has a day for it and I shall be thinking of you then.”
You might have imagined the joy I felt. “At last this February is not like the other previous ones,” I said to myself. Though we are far apart on that day, I laid wide awake thinking of you. Your sweet voice, your smile, and the clear, soft-spoken speech.
At that time the oratorical contest at our school was about to be held. I temporarily suspended my writing to you. Being one of the contestants, I had to prepare. I did not inform you about it, but it was on that momentary lapse of time when I resolved to write you the first love letter I have ever written.
You received my first love letter. I was not sure whether I was worthy o write to you. But somehow, I had to begin. I know that you are a critic, having been an editor once of your school paper. Because of this, I spent nights preparing my letter and kept my fingers crossed after sending it through the mail. I anxiously waited for your reply. I even fancied that you would send me back my letter-corrected. The days passed by during which they seemed a million years. A week passed and I received your reply. I concealed myself fearing that I would only have disappointments, that I would only receive my letter back. To my great surprise, it was not my letter. I breathed in relief as I started reading. A mixed feeling of happiness, hope, and joy surged within me. You wrote you’re astonished — you couldn’t believe our intimacy would end in my proposal.
I wrote my letters, which you readily replied. You manifested reluctance, yet no objections. At last, the much-awaited day came. “…..Until I finally realized that you are someone I feel I can trust, respect and love. On this basis, I entrust my heart to you with faith and love founded on mutual feeling and understanding…..”
I am sure this was the reason for my copping the second place in the oratorical contest. The inspiration was so great that I reaped other awards one after another. Yes, I owe them to you, only you. But your love is my real triumph. Now, I realized that all these are because of the song…..our song. It has made us unite our feelings, directed our paths, and guided the right love-stream we trodded. And as December rolls by, the memory of a song and of two lives it has united shall remain…..eternally.
