When a Rabbit weeps...

I was named after the Apostle...

Saint James, the less, who was a cousin of Our Lord and a brother of the apostle, Jude. He wrote one of the Epistles. He was hurled down from the terrace of the temple and clubbed to death.

'JAIME'

I was named after the Martyr...

Saint Hermenegild who was the son of the Arian King of the Visigoths in Spain. He was put to death for refusing to receive Holy Communion from the hands of a heretical bishop in 586.

And,

Abuelo Hermenegildo A. Carpio Senior, of Tabaco, Albay. He was a Division Engineer of Camarines Sur and Quezon Province. A good and just Man.

'HERMENEGILDO'

The poor dead rabbit tells my mother for certain someone is there, needing her.

A small strawberry of blood that is alive and growing and so very real.

She was frightened too, she said to The Lord,

Not because of the pain to come, but because so much can go wrong to prevent me from being born or to make me born badly.

From that time on, He helps us both, the Good Lord:

my mother that is guiding me.

And, I, myself, in becoming the human image that He so richly deserves.

When a rabbit weeps...

There is no sound.