Glimpses
On the first sunny Sunday afternoon after nearly two weeks of daily downpours, I found myself, quite predictably, at the Ateneo campus in Loyola, taking some moments of peace and quiet between writing pleadings and helping out with the preparations for the 2006 Bar Exams.
Sitting there in my car parked along Xavier Hall, I watched as a young father played ball with his young son at Bellarmine field, while his young wife, the child’s mother, sat on a picnic mat nearby, watching. The child dutifully ran after the ball with faltering steps, and upon reaching it, kicked it, but without much strength, so that he had to run after the ball again, and kick it again, for it to reach his waiting father, now seated beside his young wife. And the child ran back to where his parents were, to the waiting arms of his young mother who embraced him, the same one who was leaning her head on her young husband’s arm.
Maybe it was the serenity of the moment that caught me off-guard. Or maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, I saw what joy was actually like.
Sitting there in my car, on the first sunny Sunday afternoon after nearly two weeks of daily downpours, I knew, with distinct clarity, what I wanted. I knew what I wanted to become. And I told myself what that wise old Jesuit used to tell me: “Have faith, that the God who placed this desire in your heart, will not disappoint.”
Sitting there in my car parked along Xavier Hall, I watched as a young father played ball with his young son at Bellarmine field, while his young wife, the child’s mother, sat on a picnic mat nearby, watching. The child dutifully ran after the ball with faltering steps, and upon reaching it, kicked it, but without much strength, so that he had to run after the ball again, and kick it again, for it to reach his waiting father, now seated beside his young wife. And the child ran back to where his parents were, to the waiting arms of his young mother who embraced him, the same one who was leaning her head on her young husband’s arm.
Maybe it was the serenity of the moment that caught me off-guard. Or maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, I saw what joy was actually like.
Sitting there in my car, on the first sunny Sunday afternoon after nearly two weeks of daily downpours, I knew, with distinct clarity, what I wanted. I knew what I wanted to become. And I told myself what that wise old Jesuit used to tell me: “Have faith, that the God who placed this desire in your heart, will not disappoint.”
Hey Peej,
I happened upon your blog because I was looking for the E.E. Cummings poem online. Your glimpse post brought a smile to face, because it is those little joys that we take for granted or miss completely.
Sometimes you think there is a sea of uninspiring and uninteresting people and you come across something or someone that suprises you. I wanted to let you know that your blog stopped me in my tracks and I was compelled to read on.
I especially liked the Paolo Coelho quote as I just read The Alchemist and enjoyed it.
Keep writing your thoughtful observations
Colleen
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