I considered last Tuesday morning a miraculous day for me because I could hardly believe I was already at the roadside waiting for a ride at five-thirty. With plenty of time at my side I knew I had all the luxury in the world to choose which mode of transportation would be my flavor of the day.
Suddenly, it just entered my mind to play alone a card game I ever first learned in childhood: Lucky Nine. But without cards, of course, like we used to play when we were still street “tambay,” by using only the last digit number of every vehicle’s plate that would pass by.
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The first vehicle to approach bearing plate number ending in five, as in Hawaii Five O, was a shining white Ford Montero. After several seconds, a jeepney had 385 thus my second “card” was five anew which made my score “buklu,” “bokyâ,” nil, nothing, zero.
Of course, with cards like that, you don’t say “good” to the “bang-ka” or “hitter,” as you desperately need to swiftly speak “hirit” or “hit” like an asthmatic to his nebulizer.
I always opt for a bus but I said to myself if the coming third and final “card” would make my score at least seven, I’d automatically ride on it whether it’d be a jeepney of Miagao or San Joaquin.
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And when a red Miagao PUJ with plate number FVT 449 was coming down roaring, I jumped in celebration which surprised the driver, a veteran one a.k.a. “The Monitor Lizard,” named Mansing.
Mansing is the last of the veterans among currently active Miagao PUJ drivers. If I’m not mistaken he is a contemporary of my very own father. Mansing I presumed is already in his mid 60’s yet when it comes to flooring the gas, he is as hot-blooded as your any young PUJ speed-o-maniac.
The engine steadily and mightily roared like a lion to its maximum in duet with a coughing muffler, as Mansing coolly drove and smiled to his overtaken much younger competitor they labeled as “cover.”
I thanked him in silence because I forgot to pray that morning before leaving our quarter, so all I did inside his “jeep” was settling differences with myself while asking, “Is this the day I’m gonna meet my Maker?”
Some things in this world it seems are like vintage Mansing. He’s like a vinegar, as it ages, the more it gives its “asim.”
Or like the amazingly mesmerizing beauty of my first ever childhood crush on TV, the incomparable Ms. Linda Carter of Wonder Woman fame. Last week I chanced upon her doing some TV guesting, despite the years that went by, her picture-perfect facial features still looked like the same.
She was perfectly like a well-stored, finely kept and superbly preserved wine. An ethereal character with finesse learned only from old school and perfected by time.
Just like God’s overwhelming love and care that are always renewed daily like the offerings of old in sweet savor. As time goes by they’re still going sweeter, and in fact much, much sweeter than they ever were before.
That is why even in the midst of trouble we could still find peace. It is simply because morning by morning we see new mercies.
Truly, great is His faithfulness… (Lamentations 3:23)
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