April 5, 1995—a day that will always spark a not so distant memory…a memory that I could hardly remember but so real and concrete when I close my eyes.
How funny it is to realize that for many, any given day is just but a setting and rising of the sun, with mediocre monotony in between…but to some, like that given day, a life was changed.
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On a very lazy afternoon, my eldest bro and I were watching an ordinary movie on HBO when we heard someone in the doorstep. A medium built guy on white shirt and blue jeans was just asking if we know these people.
My brother said “Yes!”
And one of the most frightening words came out from his mouth:
“Your two brothers and your sister were hit by a jeepney on their way home!”
At age 12, I was deeply aware that someone just poured a very cold water in my soul. My world literally stopped. Until now, I didn’t know how I managed to tell Mom that her three kids just met an accident.
I remember that I went inside our room and looked into the mirror. My lips were corpse white and tears were just welling up in my eyes. Just then a flood of memory came rushing in from that morning…all the laughter’s and teasing…that one single moment, frozen in time, when I bade my farewell to my three siblings as they mount to the motorcycle for a short visit to our relative.
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It’s a whirlwind of confusion; a world of utter dissonance. From what I have initially heard at that time and later confirmed, my sister suffered the most. Her left leg was badly mangled and she lost considerable amount of blood. My kid bro, who was only four at that time, was also had his left leg fractured. Thank Heavens my elder brother, the one driving the motorcycle, came off unscathed.
Witnesses accounted that the jeepney which hit my siblings was trying to overtake another car in a very alarming speed. My brother was driving in the motorcycle lane and was unaware of the drama that was unfolding at their back.
Carelessness maybe, or a simple but fatal overlook, the reckless driver swiftly side swept my siblings, with them being thrown and scattered across the highway.
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The hospital in our province cannot manage the trauma my sister and my kid bro suffered and suggested that we must bring them instead to Manila—an eight hour ride from home.
To a 12 year old at that time, these were all too much to bear. When nobody is watching, I caved in to the corner and cry my hearts out.
Later that week, I was told by my father that my sister was in serious jeopardy—she was in dire need of blood or else she would die. As if fate haven’t had enough, we have come to know that her blood was quite rare; statistics show that only 10% of the population has that kind of blood…and time was definitely running out.
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A fighter from the start, my father never flinched to fight for her daughter’s life. She needed blood and that what he’s going to look for whatever it takes.
He went to and fro his family circle, went to different agencies that might help, to close friends…and finally, when hope was at its lowest, he found a Belgian missionary.
Apart from the medical crisis we were having, medical bills were also soaring. As the only sole breadwinner, a mere teacher at that, my Dad was his wit’s end.
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Days and months slowly followed and somehow, when the night was its darkest and the way too steep, we stand in awe as this particular chapter was finally closing.
All along, when I thought that God had abandoned us, He managed to give a part of Himself to those unnamed and faceless people who had helped; people we hardly knew and expected came to share their support, their prayers and their finances.
What has been a long via dolorosa, I later came to realized, that God was and is with us. He shared the burden; he worked in silent ways and embraced our hearts that indeed, He is in control.
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12 years later, the scar of that fateful day had its permanence to my sister’s left leg. But she finished her college degree and became a CPA. She now works in Dubai with my two elder brothers. My kid bro, from a four year old fighting for his chance to live a normal life, now is in college fighting to pass every subject…and from whom I have heard has already a girlfriend.
Life for a believer has never been easy; we are constantly tested for our faith. What has been different now was HOW we handle the test of life. We know for a certainty that there is a God we can count on. A Beacon of light placed upon the sea of challenges and the howling winds of unbelief.
Amidst the storms of life…His light shines!
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Thank You, Lord Jesus, for the gift of Salvation. Have a meaningful Holy Week, Everyone!
