ABC STARS Inspires

How do you fix a broken spirit? How do you fix a broken mind? I can fix a website. I can write. But, again, how do you fix a broken spirit? But, again, how do you fix a broken mind? I can make you smile. I can tell you stories. Yet, again, how do you fix a broken spirit? Yet, again, how do you fix a broken mind? He does not like to be touched anymore. He finds human contact horrid. So how do you fix a broken spirit? So how do you fix a broken mind? His side of the story had always been ignored and doubted. He is all by himself. And they are a pack of wolves.  Broken spirit? Broken mind? That which we cannot see. That which we cannot feel. Why? Why? Listen... Just listen... God is watching us. He sent a Bridge through the Blessed Mother She is called by many names. But here, she is Nuestra Señora de Peñafrancia. And the Bridge... El Divino Rostro... photo credit: C. P. Ewing A Short Walk Into the Sunset via photopin (l...

Bikol! Land of godliness and song! A kingdom of kindness, of people brave, once free! Noble deeds abound the common throng Destined for greatness yet plagued by disunity! Is this our fate - in the midst of plenty, want? Land of the good, enslaved by lies and fear? Let Truth prevail! Tho the way be grim and gaunt! O Truth to set us free! Our goal most dear! Bandillo, 28 july 82 photo credit: Diamond Mayon via photopin (license) License: (license)

Photo by Father Louie Occiano 　 　Like martial arts, waiting is an art. It is also a talent. With this in mind, it can therefore be developed. Children have a very short attention span. As we grow into maturity and wisdom, like fine wine, we become more patient. 　　Mastery of waiting can be achieved. We can become so good at it that we become lovers of the very act of waiting. Essentially, waiting is the practice of looking forward to a beginning or an end of an event no matter how trivial or great it may be. 　　Isn’t it exciting to wait for the birth of a baby or for a university graduation which is the end of formal schooling? 　　A series of events starts with the beginning of the new year. The changing of the seasons come to pass. The comings and goings of people in our lives and the commencement of occasions; Valentine’s Day, Easter, Halloween, Christmas and the end of the year. 　　The passage of time; seconds turn into minutes; hours, days, weeks, months, ...

                                                                                                           Amelia ‘Naynay’ Castillo Fulgentes brought pride to Bicolandia as she won the Miss People’s Choice Award and given the title as Miss Philippine Airlines in this year’s Miss Philippines USA at the coronation night held last July 12 staged at the Alex Theatre, Glendale, California. Naynay was born in Naga City and later migrated to America when she was seven years old. The twenty two year old Fil-Am Beauty Queen is currently finishing her Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration at the University of Colorado. As one of the major title holders, she will be taking part in different charitable projects...

Since childhood I would always hear the grown ups say that everything is fifteen minutes away from your location to your destination. Over time I too would always say this to our guests both from out of town or out of the country. But I suddenly had this bright idea to put this little known information about Naga City to the test. Is it a fact or a myth? Last Saturday, I embarked on a small adventure.During my usual morning exercise with just a wristwatch and a notebook, I documented my tour of the popular destinations in my city. You must have seen in the movies or have read in American books about Beverly Hills and when you tour that place they have a star map. A star map is where you can pass by the houses of Hollywood’s famous movie stars and icons. So, we start at the corner of Liboton and M. T. Villanueva Avenue. I clocked in at 5:39 in the morning. The gated old expansive two-story house with a green roof is the ancestral property of a dynasty in t...

They did not fade. Like an indelible ink after voting for national elections, my memories of the old train photos are intact. But I just needed to check and to make sure my mind did not fail me. I was a young boy then looking at my older siblings’ baby albums that were lovingly and beautifully made by my effervescent mother. I was not sure which baby album it belongs to, you see, I have twelve older siblings so I scanned each album randomly at first, and started with my older sister’s baby album because I had a strong gut feeling that the old photos are in that album. I was correct. Excitement filled the air and more treasure hunting followed. I started with the eldest and stopped by the third album, my brother’s. My sister’s page has some pictures which are the same with my brother’s page. She has two that are different. Two sepia photos, the first with her smiling ear to ear while my beaming mother looking on and a brother with his back against the camera, while the sec...

The cool, crisp air was what greeted me while deplaning at the spacious, modern and bright Frankfurt Airport. It was summer in Europe in June of 2013. My siblings patiently waiting at the arrival lobby were glad to finally see me. It took almost 16 hours with a few hours stop-over at the colorful, mosaic-adorned Abu Dhabi Airport. It was an international experience in multifaceted aspects. It was like changing channels of an international cable television. The people: a mix of South Asians, Filipinos, Arabs, Chinese and other East Asians, Africans and Europeans. The languages: except for Filipinas chatting in Abu Dhabi, conversations that could be overheard were a Babel of foreign tongues. The weather: dry and humid at the Arabic departure area and then contrasting mist, cool summer winds in Europe. The clime was perfect for a tropical local and I enjoyed our car cruise on the motorway from Germany to Zurich in Switzerland. Towns and...

There is a mystic tale that's always told By all the Bicolanos young or old 'Tis felt and seen by pilgrim, foe or friend Why is it so, one cannot comprehend. They swear that when the Lady journeys home On her pagoda lined with gilt and chrome No other woman, must be beside her throne The barge will sink, if she is not alone! Her motley court of cheering, singing men Has always left me with a wistful yen But others with their condescending look Who think that life's an artificial book, Keep saying, "it's a swaying parody Of what a real procession ought to be A Christian trimming on a pagan mood--- The adoration of a piece of wood!" Let me tell you just a thing or two About this "drunken" candle-lighted queue. We know we are not much, mere publicans, Bare-footed ones of humble circumstance. Impulsive ones whose common bond is love For our Madonna of Bikol Up above. Ah, countless times we sighed, she always heard! And God could not deny His mothe...

"...t he magnificence of courtship that eventually leads to the miracles of life." If you go to the Plaza Quince Martires before the morning breaks you will be in for a pleasant surprise. There are a few lush trees as tall as the re-conceptualized building right across the street. Well ahead of the early dawn mass at the San Francisco Church you will be enthralled by the performance of winged creatures of God’s masterpiece: Nature at its best. It is a joyous melody, a testament to the glory of God’s creation. About a hundred or more birds chirp and sing in unison like music to the ears. They converge in the inner sanctum of the foliage and sometimes fly to the nearby trees. I feel one with nature-- a pilgrim in this magnificence we call life. I linger for a few moments just to listen to their songs of praise and to soak in their presence. With their ability to fly, they are the next best things to angels. They are ethereal beings as they soar in the heavens. ...