Let me share this short piece by Ma. Pilar Chanda Gado Antoque, who is
now living and working as a College Teacher in New
Zealand . She is like a sister, a
confidant and an adviser; she is honestly more than a friend to me. We went to
the same school back in the Philippines and
we taught in the same University, shared the same vision in education and
inspired by similar ambitions in life. We used to be strange enemies at the
University, she was a student leader and I was a student publication staff. We
criticized them and they criticized us in return, but those were avenues why we
became friends and that friendship continues to flourish up to now.
Just recently I read her ‘short story’ in facebook and asked
her if I could share this piece to the blogosphere, although I know she would
never say ‘NO’, but her ‘YES” seals the
valid approval to get it published. Read along…
''My mind is still troubled about an incident at church
yesterday. The week before, I was asked to translate and read one segment of
the prayers of the faithful for the Pentecost Sunday celebration. I told the
Cathedral secretary that I was never good at translating texts into Filipino,
the national language of the Philippines . I
promised to find her... someone who could do the job. She said I did not have
to do that as I could actually say the prayer in my native tongue. She promised
to e-mail me the texts that were to be translated. I wasn't able to read her
e-mail as my inbox had been littered with hundreds of notification of my moodle
discussions with my counselling mates and professors at the Waikato University . Came
Sunday, Andrea asked me if I received her e-mail and I gasped and said
"no".