I've marked the eve of September 26 as the gloomiest night of all my saddest nights. Surely, it can be quite a task to lull oneself to sleep after a break-up, after a heated argument with parents, after shouting back at a best friend for not showing up on "dates", or after knowing that you're nearly failing a subject in school; but it was an unexplainable burden to even think of sleeping when you know that the house you've grown up in has already been eaten up by the mud and dirty waters.
I felt the coolness of the floor beneath the bed I was slumped into as I tried to sleep on a neighbor's property.
When nothing is left, every little thing you receive is a gain. Help poured into our shattered house as we tried to rebuild it. Our family bonded like never before as we sorted into piles of muddy mementos that remained untouched inside cabinets and closets prior to the fateful storm. We've established relations with other people, and even with those whom we never imagined would reach out to us. These overwhelming events have multiplied our faith in God all the more.
Mom almost said goodbye to us when she was overpowered by the angry current while transferring to a neighbor's. We've never seen the man who've helped her, nor were we able to say thank you for his heroic act.
There were a lot of events that sent shivers up my spine during the tragedy. I and my family have realized that we've held on too much to material things that we've forgotten our relations with others and even to each other. God is ever present among us. And we have been so blessed to have witnessed so many of His miracles during these trying times.
