GERVASIO LIRA LAVILLES: The 80-Year Wait for Recognition

HE WAS A CHILD OF THE MOUNTAINS of Lambunao, Iloilo, who took a one-way trip to Cebu in 1914 to visit his older brother who was stationed there as a Philippine Scout. Unfortunately for him, his brother and his detachment had been transferred a few hours before he arrived. He was a complete stranger in a big and busy port of Cebu, knowing nothing of the local dialect, much less, no relatives to seek refuge to.

He was living by his own wits on the streets until, one day, a kind Cebuano from Pasil took him in as a servant. Not only that, he was given opportunity to finish his studies. He studied by day at the Cebu Provincial Elementary School (now the Abellana National School) and worked at night for the Cabije Family. He graduated from seventh grade and proceed to secondary at the Cebu Provincial High School (now the Abellana National School) as a self-supporting student.

He had to stop on his fourth year to serve his country. He enlisted with the Philippine National Guards, intending to follow the footsteps of his older brother who was sent earlier with his unit to Europe. When his turn came, Armistice was announced, ending World War I. The boat where he and his regiment sailed with has to turn back to Manila. After receiving his honorable discharge he was able to catch up and finished high school after passing the final examinations where he graduated as salutatorian next to a valedictorian classmate who would become one day the President of the Republic of the Philippines – Carlos P. Garcia.

As a high school graduate of an American-run school during those early years, few but better opportunities come knocking at you. Gervasio had already been working with a newspaper as a delivery boy and learned the tricks of the trade from the printing presses to the fields and on the layout desks. He rose from the ranks and became editor one day in several newspapers.  He married Consuelo Lumen in 1920 and, inspired, studied law at the University of the Philippines Junior College (now the UP College Cebu).

In 1925, he entered politics and was elected with the most number of votes as councilor for the then Municipality of Cebu (now the second most important city of the Philippines). How could an Ilonggo able to win in a premier town of a premier province where he was not a native of the place in his first try in politics and by an overwhelming margin? Perhaps, the newspapers made him famous but, he once said to a grandson, that Consuelo was his lucky charm.

At the heels of that celebration came Gloria, the first born. She married Alejandro Panganiban Sr., a corporate lawyer. Gloria became the city librarian. Then Virginio and Evangeline followed. Virginio became a soldier a year before World War II. He survived the Siege of Bataan, the Death March and the horrors of Camp O’Donnell. He married Lourdes Galon of Labason, Zamboanga del Norte after the war. Evangeline survived her parents, her siblings and her husband, Jose de Paula Jr. of Jaro, Iloilo. She used to teach but is now focusing her time as a writer.

Gervasio went on to serve two more terms as councilor in 1929 and in 1933, authoring or co-sponsoring many ordinances that improved the well-being of the Cebuanos while expanding the services of the municipal government to reach far-flung places. In 1931, he authored an ordinance that would change the course of history of Cebu. It was Resolution Number 185. It requested the Lower House of Congress to sponsor a bill converting Cebu into a Chartered City, which was realized on February 24, 1937. What made it sweet is that he did this with opposition from fellow councilors, all native Cebuanos, for seven years and him, an Ilonggo.

Then he disappeared from politics. We do not know why? We learned that Consuelo died in 1936 and caused him so much grief. He graduated Bachelor of Laws in 1937 from the Visayas Institute (now the University of Visayas) and passed the bar the following year, the same year he married again with the lass from Potat-Bagumbayan, Purificacion Alba. World War II came and the Lavilles Family migrated to Bohol to escape the Japanese Secret Police who were looking for him. From that safe refuge, he fathered a daughter named Marietta, who later would marry Diego de Egurrola and both would serve as police officers.

A resistance force made up of a handful of American and Filipino soldiers was organized in Bohol and Gervasio’s experience with newspapers and as lawyer gained him commission with the rank of captain and was given the task of conducting a propaganda war against the Japanese. He published a monthly tabloid titled Bolos and Bullets and he became a marked man. Japanese patrols missed him many times by just a few meters in his farm and it was the worst time for food was scarce. He told a grandson that his dog, Dinky, helped them survive.

The Japanese even entice Gervasio to go above ground by using Virginio as bait but that was not to be. Virginio outsmarted his guards and soon found him reunited with his father, the same father who personally brought him to an Army enlistment camp when other families hid theirs to faraway places to escape conscription. Liberation brought the Lavilles Family back to Cebu and started life all over again from the ruins and despairs of war. That was in 1945 and life was hard and depressing.

Fortunately, he gained employment when he was appointed by Pres. Sergio Osmeña Sr. as the Register of Deeds for Cebu and then chosen as one of only three senior examiners in the country by the US-Philippine War Damage Commission. There were over twelve thousand candidates yet he was chosen for his honesty, integrity and industry. It was a very demanding job for it entails a lot of travel, surmounting some security threats and fending off many bribe offers from businessmen who wanted to pad the actual costs of the damage which would have benefitted them financially. 

The 1950s brought back a sense of normalcy for the Lavilles Family. Gervasio became a much-sought after lawyer, not because he was very good but because he was very kind to his clients. It was normal for him hefting home baskets of fruit and vegetables after a lengthy day in the courtrooms. He exacts no fixed amount but he accepts anything even a prayer of thanks. He worked with local newspapers as editor-in-chief and was tapped by national and international press agencies as their local representative.

Politics came calling him again but this time, behind the shadow of the son of Cebu’s Grand Old Man, himself becoming a great man one day, Sergio “Serging” Osmeña Jr. Gervasio served as his private secretary and aide-de-camp when Serging ran as Governor of Cebu, as Mayor of Cebu City, as Congressman and as Senator of the Philippines. When Serging was not campaigning, he would either be City Administrator or Provincial Administrator.

He had a long professional relationship with his employer and friend and has to let go of his newspaper jobs. He maintained only his weekly newspaper column in the Cebu Morning Times titled Merely My Opinion, and became a professor of history, literature, algebra and political science for the University of San Carlos, Southwestern University, the University of the Visayas, and the University of Southern Philippines. He still worked as a lawyer but limited only to consultancies and notarial services.

Despite many opportunities of enriching himself through his lucrative occupations and positions in government and by his association with Cebu’s most popular politician at that time, he lived simply and begged for privacy. He did not own a house and was content to live in government land. When Serging challenged Ferdinand Marcos in the 1969 Presidential Elections, he went with him on the campaign trail, sometimes accompanied by his wife and a grandson.

Martial Law brought his association with Serging to an end. He was not subjected to harassment and shame by the military administrators. He travelled to Bohol many times to look after his property with his wife and grandson. One day he sold it. Other properties, token of payments for his lawyering, choice lots now, he returned to his former clients. Even his own inherited property in Lambunao, he donated all to his only brother to the consternation of all. He stuck to his oath of poverty and owes this through his inspiration from Jesus Christ and Mohandas Ghandi.

He liked to tell stories to a grandson when both are alone. He, on the rocking chair, while the grandson at his side on the floor and who, most of the time, read the day’s news for him. He is an ardent historian, orator and poet and loved to quote literary works of Lord Tennyson, Poe, Kipling and other literary greats. He sung the songs of his time, sometimes strange sounding ones in an unknown language.

His eyes, healed long time ago by the presence of a very beautiful bird he saw when he was five years old, failed him for good. It is a family lore that smallpox brought by foreigners early in the century caused him blindness. His mother prayed and asked for intercession from Saint Lucia, the patron saint of the blind. On the ninth day of her prayers, this unusual colorful bird appeared to her mother and to young Gervasio and he regained his sight.

As a speech writer for Serging, he still found free time to write for his column, compose poems, write short stories for magazines and authored a book. His book, CEBU: History of its Four Cities and Forty-nine Municipalities, was published in 1965. Because of his literary achievement, he was recognized by the Province of Cebu during its 406th Founding Anniversary in 1975 for Best in English Literature, along with another literary great, Natalio Bacalso, who was honored as best in Cebuano.

He died on June 16, 1986, three days short of his 90th birthday. His epitaph - “He left us nothing but his good name which is worth more than all the riches of this world” - is a testimony of his uncanny humility. A street in the barangay where he lived out his full years of his life, was dedicated in his name in June 1989. He was an Ilonggo by birth but he chooses to be Cebuano. He was a man for all people, creed and status. He served everyone without fear or favor.

After EIGHTY YEARS, the Cebu City Government finally gave him the recognition that his descendants deserved it right for him, posthumously. When he was alive, he would have wanted none of that, not even by the urgings of his friend, Serging. He values his privacy although it is known that he accommodates everyone in his humble home at any time of the day and night.

There is another reason why he does not want to be recognized. In his conversations with his family, he was slighted by the act of President Manuel Quezon when, instead of recognizing the efforts of the entire municipal council of Cebu, he replaced all with people from his political party, some of whom opposed his sponsored ordinance. He, the wellspring of why Cebu became a city, was not even invited to the event. 

Today, February 24, 2017, is a date that the descendants of Gervasio Lira Lavilles, where he would finally be reconciled with history. All things should be placed in its proper order, without disregarding the memory of another illustrious Cebuano, Vicente Rama, who fought for it nail and tooth in the halls of Congress. These two contemporaries have given the foothold that Cebu City is now reaping.

The 80th Charter Day Celebration was held at Plaza Sugbu, infront of City Hall. Evangeline and Marietta lived long enough to witness this official city celebration along with their children and grandchildren. Mayor Tomas Osmeña gave the welcome address while Evangeline, now 87, recounts the deeds of his late father. Afterward, there was a wreath-laying ceremony before a photographed image of Gervasio. The affair culminated in the evening at the Cebu Grand Convention where prominent and contemporary Cebuanos who brought honor and distinction to their city were honored.

You might wonder why Gervasio disposed all his lands? He was a lawyer who fought for both the poor and the rich. Most of the litigation cases he handled have its roots in land disputes. He witnessed families parted ways, sometimes violently, because of these inheritances. It is not uncommon for a brother taking advantage of an unmarried sister or an administrator cheats on the children of his employer. Absence of property disputes made descendants of Gervasio closer. Remember his epitaph?

You might wonder also why an unnamed grandson is always cited in this short biography of Gervasio? The old man had many grandsons and most of them were with him in his journeys except for a few who were still too young. This particular grandson was fortunate because he was with Gervasio for the longest time, enjoying walks with him in the woods, engaging in long conversations and possesses the patience to listen to all his tales and songs. He became a repository of his memories. He was “educated”. That grandson is me.

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer

FIESTAS & BIRTHDAYS 2009

WE AGREED THAT IT is to be held on a Sunday on the feast of Saint Lucy, a day which fall under the date of December 13, 2009. It will be the fiesta celebration in our little neighborhood in a little corner of little Tinago, Cebu City. The fiesta is an annual affair since a chapel was established near my place in 1978.

Saint Lucy, by the way, is the patron saint for the blind and for those who have ailments located in the eyes and is venerated by my late grandfather, Gervasio Lavilles, for whom a miracle was bestowed upon him during his childhood. As a child, he was stricken with German measles causing him instant blindness on both his eyes that sank the heart of her mother.

But his ever pious mother, asked for a miracle from the kindly saint. After finishing the ninth day of her novena through the intercession of Saint Lucy, a shout of glee from little Gervasio was heard from within another room of their house. Her curious mother decided to abandon her chores and witnessed a very colorful bird fluttering about the room and saw little Gervasio jumping up and down with joy pointing at the strange bird.

Obviously, a prayer had been heard and the message is delivered by a beautiful bird, whose species is unknown in their locality of Lambunao in Iloilo Province, and Gervasio's sight is thus restored! All for the glory of Christ Jesus!

On the other hand, Cherokee, the youngest of my two sons, will celebrate his 14^th birthday on December 14, 2009, a Monday. As had been done in the last two years, we decided to celebrate his birthday to coincide with the feast of St. Lucy upon his suggestion. That way we could manage better and put to good use of what little budget we have.

For sure, Cherokee will have company, as guests, his Farmville-playing neighbors and some classmates. His sister, Laila, and husband, Chokie, probably would come also along with their son, Kurt. Christy, his kuya Charlemagne's girlfriend will be there too and the house will be full at the seams and that will create problems for little Gabriel and Jarod. Their running space will be constricted.

Anyway, I will use the big space upstairs and transfer my PC there for the benefit of the youngsters. My wife cooks the best-tasting food this side of town and you are cordially invited to celebrate fiesta with us!

Document done in OpenOffice 2.1 Writer

A QUICK VISIT TO LAMBUNAO

I HAD TO BE THERE. A mobile phone call from Lambunao in Iloilo goaded the Cebu clan to have me represent them for the last burial rites of the late Enriqueta “Endring” Lavilles-Legayada on the morning of September 4, 2009. And so I took a Philippine Air Lines PR 380 Express Flight at 9:15 AM for Iloilo. I buckled my seat inside a Bombardier Q400 turboprop plane and waited for the plane to depart the Mactan-Cebu International Airport.

I seated myself nearest to the window and saw the power of the big propellers came to life and the plane roared on the tarmac at a speed and intensity much lesser than that of jets. As it became airborne, it made a clockwise turn passing over the fishponds of Kalawisan in Mactan Island then crossing the Mactan Channel and into the airspace above Metro Cebu. Underneath me, I spotted the little red square of a roof of my home and I smiled to myself elated, at last, to see my home from above aside from Google Earth.

As the plane climbed, clouds covered what's left of Cebu and I couldn't see the landmarks until it crossed a body of water which, I knew, is the Tañon Strait. Over the island of Negros, these same clouds trapped my vision and I saw two Cebu Pacific jets from Iloilo, one after the other, shot by us in the opposite direction. Then another body of water – the Guimaras Strait – appeared below me. As it progressed over the island of Panay, the Q400 dipped in altitude and I could see clearly now the topography of the province of Iloilo.

Iloilo, viewed from above, is an immense plain dotted here and there with farms and rice fields. Agriculturally, it is highly developed. It is of no wonder why it is called as the “rice granary of the Visayas”. Aside that, I appreciate at how the Ilonggos managed their lands. From the air, I could see no encroachments of housing and industrial developments upon their agricultural lands that are so common in the CALABARZON area and in other provinces.

Moreover, Ilonggos are environmentalists of their own right. The rice farms, for example, follow the lay-out of the land along cleavages and small valleys. It used the contours to a maximum so as to collect rain efficiently to water their rice paddies like mini rice terraces. Amidst that, trees and woody plants grew with wild abandon along the meandering rivers, creeks and waterways; atop ridges; beside roads and among communities. The plane circled among all these sights until it touched down in slow motion on the New Iloilo Airport in Santa Barbara.

From the airport I rode in a multicab for the highway and from there I caught a bus bound for Lambunao. It would be my second time there. I was with my mother, Marietta, when I went there the first time eight years ago today. We were there to celebrate the town fiesta in honor of its patron, San Nicolas de Tolentino. Now I am alone and I carried with me a mixed optimism and doubt and I just wished they would still remember me and I also hoped I could communicate with them thoroughly. I am Cebuano. What Ilonggo I learned during my sea-faring days many years ago have been eroded through non-practice.

Basically, the Ilonggos are people more akin to me, much more so in Lambunao, where my grandfather, the late Gervasio Lira Lavilles was born. Gervasio, during his one-way trip to Cebu in his youth in search of his older brother whom he had not found, decided to stay in Cebu for good and worked his way to finish elementary, high school and Bachelor of Laws. After a stint with the Philippine Scouts as World War 1 ended, he became a newspaper reporter and editor, lawyer, professor and a three-term councilor of Cebu when it was not yet a chartered city. He married and remarried and unknowingly became a patriarch of the Lavilles clan in Cebu.

I came, hoping to see a landscape what my late grandfather used to see, but I saw a tamer place. But the smell of the soil after an early morning shower lingered long enough to remind me that I am in the land of his birth; the playful sounds of their dialect rhymed and sang in my ears save, perhaps, for a few words that evolved in that long stretch of time were also the sounds that grandpa used to converse and listen with.

I arrived at the Lambunao Municipal Cemetery at 11:24 AM, way too late for the burial rite, and I decided to follow, on board a motorcycle-for-hire, the throng of vehicles filled with mourners to the dear departed's home. Feeling awkward, I decided to stand at the periphery until Amil Pabon, my second cousin Ligaya's husband, spotted me and dragged me, bag and all, inside where I was re-introduced to my kinfolks. The last of the Lavilles siblings sired by Gervasio's only brother Camilo, Rebecca “Ebeng” Lavilles-Lavilla, was there. The house was filled with grieving relatives and visitors and I became one of their numbers.

When the last of the mourners left, I had the chance to get to know of another second cousin based in Metro Manila working with the Bureau of Customs, Nelson Lavilles; and third cousin, Ephraim Leal, (technically my nephew) over glasses of Fundador Brandy. After the two bottles of brandy ran at the end of its course, Nelson opted to visit more of his relatives in Dingle and left early while I accompanied Ephraim to see the book – Bridging the Gap by Mercedita Lometillos – and explained to me why I am his uncle! On Page 108 of the book, I found my family line quite updated with my wife's name printed upon it as well as the names of my sons.

One thing I noticed in Lambunao is that all the big families and clans start with the letter “L” like Lira, Lavilles, Legayada, Latorre, Launio, Leal, Lavilla, etc. You could see some of those names in the street signs of Lambunao except for the name Lavilles which is a street sign in Cebu. Ephraim proudly declared to me that Lambunao produced the most number of generals second only to Batac in Ilocos Norte. Batac, of course, was the hometown of a former dictator.

I went around the poblacion after that and I saw the face and name of the present town mayor – a former police general - all over the place. Well, the last time I was around here, the streets were not paved. Now it is concreted. I assumed he did his mandate quite well. I went to the town plaza and I took pictures of the San Nicolas de Tolentino Parish. The run-off to the incoming fiesta can be felt in the air with all those piryahans in the plaza. I just learned that Lambunao hosted twenty-five major waterfalls which I am ignorant of until I saw a tarpaulin sheet announcing Lambunao as “The Land of Waterfalls”. So, I will see more of Lambunao in the near future.

Going back to the Legayada home, now the permanent resident of Amel and Ligaya, I sipped coffee with them after a novena. Later, we were invited to partake of a dinner hosted by sisters Soledad Latorre-Mendoza and Sonia Latorre-Ebuna, both my second cousins. Soledad, is the better half of the present DOTC Secretary, Leandro Mendoza. The Latorre house had evolved into a big edifice with several rooms and a large dining area. After that, I slept early in the house of the Legayadas.

I woke up at dawn preparing my things to leave Lambunao once more. I bade them goodbye again after a hearty breakfast. I rode down the great Panay Plateau in a vehicle-for-hire together with two other guests for Metro Iloilo. We rode a fastcraft at 10:15 AM for the port of Bacolod and arrived there an hour and fifty minutes later inspite of the huge waves battering the craft's starboard side. I caught up with a Cebu-bound Ceres Bus with minutes to spare. It's my first time to set foot in Bacolod City yet, again, I only saw it in a minute's passing.

The bus steadily climbed the national highway and traversed the Negros central highlands where I was afforded some new scenes and sights that awoken my explorer spirit. The Mandalagan Mountain Range and Mount Silay were off to the north of me while Canlaon Volcano towered in the east. Amidst those, were deep rivers that cut deep into the high plains; rushing rivers whose laughter echoed in the distance. A camera would have been useful here, sorely, I lacked one.

The bus steadily cut the distance away to Cebu and we passed by remote Don Santiago Benedicto town with its neat little rice paddies that gave the place an allure all its own. It was raining and the fields around us were amazingly green and so clear nary a mirage of smoky haze normally caused by pollutants. Ridges were topped off with pine trees and people were so laid back in their movements, uncaring of the world outside them. This is another paradise that I hoped won't be raped by greedy capitalists and landowners.

Finally, I arrived at the port of San Carlos City. Been to this place many times in my youth and it is, as it had been in the past, the gateway to Central Cebu from Negros Island. Endless armies of battering waves shelled the wharf caused by the strong gusts of wind from the southeast. My clothes ruffled and reverberated on my skin and I hid back to the comfort of the parked bus as we wait for the ferry that would take the bus and me and the rest of the passengers to Cebu.

The unwieldy seacraft unmoored from the Port of San Carlos the moment we settled in and crossed the wide Tañon Strait for the Port of Toledo. As I sat on the lee of the craft, I noticed solitary little brown birds, locally known as gorion, crossing the strait in the other direction. They crossed over the wide distance singly in intervals of between five to fifteen minutes. They rode the wind current and flew effortlessly towards Negros. Finally, we arrived in Toledo City and the bus went on its way towards the Naga-Uling Road.

I arrived at the Cebu South Bus Terminal at 7:15 PM on September 5, 2009. It was a memorable trip for me the moment I rode that turboprop plane yesterday for Iloilo until the moment I arrived at San Carlos. Most of those circumstances, I have done for the very first time and it got itself etched forever in my memory. Meantime, all is well in my home from the time of my absence until my arrival and a hearty hug to my grandson assures him that all is alright, after all.

Document done in OpenOffice 2.1 Writer.

WRITING FOR THE SAKE OF WRITING (AND MY EARNEST CONVERSION TO IT)

I AM NOT a writer. I was not trained to be one. I am not schooled in the ways and techniques in writing a story, an essay or a poem. I was schooled in the art of close-quarter combat and strategy and the enforcement of laws. I have never had need of a teacher to guide me on why, how, where, when and what should I write?

Still, I persevered, and I discovered that writing gives me a kind of therapy and energy. It gives me utter joy as it released all my pent-up emotions and urges that have been bottled inside of me for years. Or, were they not called memories?

The quest to write something is my preoccupation for the last nine months or so. The personal computer is a good tool and a perfect aid in achieving that. Where, before, there was the typewriter. The hassles of editing and re-editing an article by that mechanical contraption totally discouraged me into writing during my early years, though I did gave it a try and persevered for a while.

Ditto with pen and paper. God knows of how many pieces of paper I have thrown into the wastebasket! Or have recycled when recycling was not yet in vogue.

A desktop with Windows to commence my writing is alright with me. I have started with that operating system since it was called MS-DOS back then. But I love Linux better. I don’t encounter the hang-ups and the system crashes that the former has. But it would be nicer if I could own a Power PC ran by a Mac OS X? It would be a dream come true for me.

Putting your ideas into writing and into an opaque screen is quite a breeze, especially if you have a good word processor to accomplish that task. I don’t stick to just one word processing tool. I try them all. I love to experiment.

I have MS Word, OpenOffice Writer, AbiWord and RoughDraft and they are placed as shortcuts on my desktop screen for good measure. I installed other word utilities like yWriter2, Notepad, Scribus, MS Publisher, FreeMind and LaTeX; hidden and accessible on the “Unused Desktop Icons” folder.

Internet connection is a most welcome addition, without which I would have no possible outlet to publish my works. Blogging, that’s what they call it.

Blogging. Yeah. I reckoned there are quite a lot of free web-hosting outfits out there and you only have to choose which one’s better and have features that is or are acceptable to your tastes and standards. I have tried many of those and dropped an almost same number from my retinue. Then I got stuck with Blogger, Multiply, MyOpera and, to a lesser degree, Tabulas.

With MS Word, a bad writer becomes a good one and an average writer becomes better. It has an automatic spellcheck function and has a built-in grammar-correction feature. With a click of the mouse you could access the dictionary and thesaurus and all your needs are attended to.

But I discourage myself from using Word, no offense meant for Mr. Bill Gates there. It does not teach me to improve on my writing by relying on the comfort and ease that these add-ons provided therein. I am a non-conformist. I belong to an old-school line of thought and I give justice to my being one by using “less-comfortable” software. “To thread on trails were few have gone to”. Now, that settles all my preferred writing media.

What writing experience I had are confined to personal letters, a handful of poems, office correspondence and creating lots and lots of criminal affidavits. Modesty aside, the affidavits I have written were masterpieces of a craft in a department wanting of dynamic and creative investigators.

It is neither bland nor full of legalistic innuendos and is done in a language much easily understood by the common masses yet in a much refined manner. Simple yet superior. It elicited awe then from my peers and my superiors, a blessing for the plaintiffs and a curse for the accused and their counsels.

I am now in my 40s and it is obvious that I am late in arriving to make a shift in my thoughts and habitual disposition. It’s alright. Writing happens to run in my veins and capillaries.

My late grandfather, Atty. Gervasio Lavilles, is an accomplished historian, poet and essayist. He authored a book entitled Cebu: A History of its Four Cities and Forty-Nine Municipalities, published by Mely Press in 1965 and I saw his works printed on English-, Cebuano- and Spanish-speaking periodicals and newspapers a long time ago.

His daughters, Evangeline and Marietta, my aunt and my mother, respectively; are creative technical writers, essayist and poets themselves. Both are Theresians and they are able to juggle between their craft, their careers and mothering with such ease.

They might have influenced me to write but never the writing style. What style I might have developed, probably are mere reflections and mirrors from hundreds of thousands, nay, millions; of words, sentences, paragraphs and quotes that I have digested through the years reading and re-reading novels, books, magazines, newspapers, documents, even chocolate and candy wrappers.

I must admit that reading a blog is quite different from reading on a piece of paper. The glare from a screen are just too much for my ageing eyes, then, you tend to read in haste instead of enjoying what you read.

But that disadvantage, as illustrated above, does not hinder me to keep on writing (or blogging). I write for the pleasure of writing. For the sake of writing. For the love of it. It is there for the taking. It is free!

It is one of the crafts I learned on my own power. Like Miyamoto Musashi, the great “Sword Saint” and samurai strategist, I, too, embarked on my own “warrior pilgrimage” and have come to a point to learn the Ways of different crafts apart from the ones where we were born and made into.

Document done in RoughDraft 3.0, Trebuchet MS font, size 12.

FIESTAS & BIRTHDAYS

TODAY, DECEMBER 13, IS the feast day of Saint Lucy (Santa Lucia), who was martyred for the cause of her faith and who is the patron saint of our little neighborhood here in Cebu City, the Philippines. She also happens to be the patron saint of all those who suffer from blindness and those who are suffering from different eye ailments.

Now let me tell you a story about my late grandfather, Atty. Gervasio Lavilles. At the turn of the 20th century when little Basyo was still five years old he suffered from blindness borne out of complications from the contraction of measles. It so happened that his mother, Sebastiana, was a devout Roman Catholic and prayed her special intentions for the speedy recovery of Basyo to Jesus through the intercession of St. Lucy.

She was doing the novena prayers for that purpose and on the ninth day of her novena she heard her little Basyo inside their room gleefully calling her mother to come inside and to watch a beautiful bird fluttering about inside the room. Together with relatives they decided to investigate Basyo's object of interest.

True, indeed! There was a beautiful bird that was rare in their locality of Lambunao, Iloilo and was fluttering about in the room until it flew out of an open window. But, wonder of wonders, little Basyo could see again!

In honor of St. Lucy, our neighborhood decided to erect a chapel in 1978 and celebrate her feast every December 13th of every year. Tonight we will be having guests and we have prepared some special food.

Tomorrow, December 14, will be the 12th birthday of my youngest son, Cherokee. We decided to celebrate his birthday in advance today to coincide with the neighborhood fiesta. As we were eating breakfast today at 6:45 AM, two full rainbows appeared in the southwestern sky. Seeing rainbows in their full arch are rare nowadays, especially, if they are a pair!

May God bless us all!

Document done in OpenOffice.org Writer 2.2, Trebuchet MS font, size 12.