For the first time in a long time, I have traversed on official trip the widened highway leading to Central Panay last Monday, and so I got the chance once again to pass by and glanced at the long and winding road that led to her door yesterday. It was the road so familiar I knew I could still walk on even in closed eyes. It was the path in more than a couple of years I’d fearlessly trodden upon day and night.
I could still see from the distance the door that had been so kind because it would never close on me. The door which I swear still bears the marks of my nightly knocking knuckles even until today. I asked myself what if I would care to decide to knock and enter in that same door once more for her to visit, would I still see that old angelic beauty and divine-like grace in her then sun-starved face? Would I still be entertained like an ordinary friend, just for old time’s sake, and talk to her again in private while taking all the liberty at once staring at the countenance that swept me off my feet?
Everyone undisputedly believes all things change, I know, but for me some things remain the same just for the sake of tomorrow. That when souls parted would be reunited later and met for a brief or long talk, both of them would totally agree that life is short but at the same time a long walk. That’s why I get it when some say wisdom is learned only when everything is way too late already. For in life, every lesson we learn from every mistake, would not be for us anymore but for our children to correct.
However, expect that out of a hundred children to whom you would share a story of your life and the lessons that go with it, only a handful would take it seriously like the way we listened to our World War Two surviving folks when they told it in the street. The next time therefore someone a lot older than thou wants to share a story, learn to listen and absorb every word he’d say as knowledge is not limited to school premises only.
Some are learned in the caves even in the uttermost part of the Earth, the way wars were fought in the mountains and beaches regardless of who gets hurt. If the warring people of the olden times were not telling their stories, how ignorant we could be today because we will never hear about peace. Every nation in the world is defined and sustained by her story, her road story from its conception, to its struggles, redemption and glory. I was told somewhere in Baghdad there is this inscription of something like, “Sown by the seed of a tale, thus the world knew Baghdad and fascinated by her stories in the city and in the vale.
It’s her story too that makes Israel rich and famous then and now universally especially when we speak about power, survival and bravery. It’s her story that did spread and heard all the way to an Eastern country and prodded wise men to go see the birth of the King Who came down from His glory. They were real wise men because they did fearlessly tread upon an unknown path, certain they’d never get lost because what they were seeking for was the One and True God.
Life in this Earth may be short but also a continuous journey. Go find that life’s Way that leads you through all eternity…
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