The Real Games I Won

                  Often, the audience only focused on the trophy we won over a competition nothwithstanding the hardships and bruises we got.

                  Life is a circus. I’ve known this harsh reality when I was barely eight years old. That was when my mother died and I had to live in Mindanao with total strangers that I entered the maze and was hopeless about how I would be able to go back home. 

                 There I experienced all sorts of games, big and small ones. Each event I had to keep winning to keep me going.

                 The first puzzle was how to reach the vast field of either rice or corn without falling down from narrow dikes or getting hurt from rough coconut husks. It likewise required walking through tall trees and coconut palms and crossing rivers and lagoons  rumored to be infested with cocodiles.

                 Going back was  as tough as reaching there.

              The second was how to get some sleep while all alone in a room I once thought was twice bigger than my new world. The third was how to keep my eyes awake every 4:00 A.M. so I could prepare food for our breakfast. The fourth was how to conquer my fears so I could get some dried palm leaves outside the house. The fifth was how to cook food in less than an hour before lunch hour. The sixth was how to imagine a different flavor of my daily banana snacks. The seventh was how to prevent mysef from joining other children who played happily after class hours. The eight was how to control my nervousness so I could wash the dishes in a very dark kitchen. The ninth was how to control myself from figthing back against a mean working student who verbally and physically abused me.

            And like all other carnivals, there is always a clown. I became a clown in my circus. I was a picture of a perfectly controlled stuff on the outside but a real teary-eyed softie inside. I pretended everything was only a game. That’s how i survived the ordeals…..

          Who shall heal the bruises that have left ugly scars to this clown? I know not. All I know is that I have to continue the game of forgiving  this time with my mask off.

                                                             -   END -

    //     Mrs. Elena Labrada, our school guidance counselor  who is now a Head Teacher of Values Education , told me to write my hurts. Wow! the more I wrote, the more I remember, and the more I pain. Then there were those I cannot afford to divulge for I might  hurt others, too.Besides, I want to forgive those who inflicted deep anguish to me. I forgive them for their tender years  and old age alike. Who are they?  Well, only the Master of the Game know them. This time it is a game I have to win so I can go home to His place peacefully.