YOU NEVER CAN TELL

Palawan Daily News - - Opinion - THE GOOD LIFE BY YOLLY MORES

Is­tood there, trans­fixed, mes­mer­ized by the seem­ingly end­less queue of ve­hi­cles in all shapes, sizes, colours and brands. Feel­ing all alone and with my pa­tience wear­ing thin, I hugged tightly a Robin­son’s eco bag which was also, well, my hand­bag. I wanted to cross to the other side of the street but the rapid flow of traf­fic ap­peared to be in­fi­nite and un­abated.

How I wished I could look past my man­ners and shout to the world, - to the mo­torists in par­tic­u­lar:

“Can’t you see this old, BEAU­TI­FUL ( that was how my grand­son de­scribed me four years ago ) piece of hu­man be­ing stand­ing by her­self for cen­turies? “

I was sweat­ing pro­fusely as if I were work­ing as an ap­pren­tice in a vul­can­iz­ing shop. If only I could get un­der a shade, I thought wildly. SHADE? Sud­denly, I re­al­ized a huge shadow had block­aded the sun from fur­ther hurt­ing my DEL­I­CATE, ALAGANG DOVE skin. The sky wasn’t over­cast, ob­vi­ously. Trees were some dis­tance away. So, why and how come this instant re­lief from the pierc­ing heat?

Re­al­ity dawned on me! I WAS NO LONGER ALONE!! Be­side me stood a stranger, a gi­ant size of a man with bulging mus­cles and dark skin, made even darker by the weird tat­toos em­bla­zoned in his body inch by inch. He was only wear­ing a black un­der­shirt paired with black, fit­ted jeans. To top it all, he had his hair propped up and tied with a black rib­bon at the crown of his head. To me, he re­sem­bled a black, large size, trash bag.

Fear gripped me. And who wouldn’t fear? For­give my lan­guage. But he was a HIDEOUS MON­STER.

“Lord,“I asked, “what have you sent to me? He isn’t an an­gel, is he? He doesn’t look like one.”

I prayed as I’ve never prayed be­fore for God’s pro­tec­tion and de­liv­er­ance. As I was con­tem­plat­ing on ways to escape like call­ing an am­bu­lance or the fire sta­tion, or the air force and the navy com­bined, the man, yes, the Gi­ant (!), gen­tly touched my el­bow and said, “Ma’am, I’ll help you cross to the other side.” With that state­ment, and with a stop sign of his over­sized hand, he led me across to safety. I was so over­whelmed by the un­ex­pected turn of events that I could only mum­ble, “Thank you so much, gen­tle­man.” He was gone like a house on fire be­fore I could even ask for his name.

“Lord”, I said re­morse­fully, “for­give me for judg­ing the man by his ap­pear­ance. You have looked into his heart and found gen­tle­ness and kind­ness there.”

As I walked my way home, I was near in tears as I re­mem­bered ISA­IAH 46:4, “Even to your old age and gray hairs, I am he. I am he who will sus­tain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sus­tain you and I will res­cue you.”

YES! THIS IS THE GOOD LIFE: that even in OLD AGE, God is still there. WITH YOU... and FOR YOU.

...As I walked my way home, I was near in tears as I re­mem­bered ISA­IAH 46:4, “Even to your old age and gray hairs, I am he. I am he who will sus­tain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sus­tain you and I will res­cue you.”

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