.
These hands are not your model's hands. They were never soaked with milk, pampered with soothing oils and creams, and trimmed and cleaned like a rich woman's hands should deserve.
These hands are not rich. They never signed a check worth millions, inspected clothes worth more than a normal man's monthly wage, dined with the elite, and brushed with other hands that could change the world in a snap.
But these hands---dirty, bruised, and calloused---knew hardship and pain. And these hands will carry your load, soothe your ache, tousle your hair, encase you with warmth, and try to give you hope and love.
Because time taught these hands a lesson, and they learned that lesson well---soon, everything will be alright. We will all get out of this. It will work itself out.
Until then, these hands will continue to hold yours and will not let go. And together, we will make it. Together.
I hope these hands will be more than enough, for this is all I can offer you.
.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Bohol Relief
As of October 31, PBSP raised more than PHP2 million, which allowed us to reach 3,357 households in 5 towns and 19 barangays of Bohol. Daghang salamat sa tanan! :-)
Friday, October 11, 2013
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It's finally over, and instead of celebrating that she actually made it, all she can do is sigh in relief.
Four months. It really is over. It's finally over.
The torment is over.
Deep in her heart, however, all she feels is remorse. She wonders if other people could actually feel what she feels at the moment. If they could understand why she's griping over it so much.
Eloquence goes out the window as different words come to her at once: value for money, justice for effort, intellectual capabilities, but what really retains is this: quality, quality, quality.
She was expecting so much quality, maybe a little too much of it, only to be sorely disappointed in the end. She was supposed to be excited, considering it's her first venture. But no. All she feels still is remorse.
So she asks herself if she has even learned a thing she didn't already know after four months. No. Nothing.
Wasn't this all--all those days and hours spent--meant for self-development? So she could be a better person and give back in return?
Sadly, it never happened. And that's what broke her heart so much. Such wasted months--and pesos--they were. Each penny saved for nothing.
Do you understand now?
Four months. It really is over. It's finally over.
The torment is over.
Deep in her heart, however, all she feels is remorse. She wonders if other people could actually feel what she feels at the moment. If they could understand why she's griping over it so much.
Eloquence goes out the window as different words come to her at once: value for money, justice for effort, intellectual capabilities, but what really retains is this: quality, quality, quality.
She was expecting so much quality, maybe a little too much of it, only to be sorely disappointed in the end. She was supposed to be excited, considering it's her first venture. But no. All she feels still is remorse.
So she asks herself if she has even learned a thing she didn't already know after four months. No. Nothing.
Wasn't this all--all those days and hours spent--meant for self-development? So she could be a better person and give back in return?
Sadly, it never happened. And that's what broke her heart so much. Such wasted months--and pesos--they were. Each penny saved for nothing.
Do you understand now?
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