On the Author, the Narrator, the Solar System and the Year Ahead

"You know, Nanay," said B to me knowingly over dinner last night, ending with a dramatic flourish, "tomorrow is the last day of 2007!"

"Uh-huh," I smiled through my mouthful of left-over Christmas pasta, "and then, what's the day after that?"

"The first day of 2008!!!!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

After a brief, scholarly, somewhat one-sided discussion (mostly with B on the talking end) on what a year means in astronomy, how long it takes for each of the planets to circle the sun and spin itself round, what the new solar system now looks like, the new dwarf planets Eris and Ceres, and so forth, I managed to steer the conversation back to more earth-related matters, and talk about the year ahead. Now it was my turn to start with a "you know" statement.

"You know, B," I said. "I bet God has a terrific plan for us in 2008. Just like the books that we've read and the stories you've written, there's a fantastic ending He's planned for us, a great plot in store for all His children that only He knows. It's like a Great Big Secret that only He knows, and we discover more and more of what He's written in our story each day. He's the Writer, the Author of the story of our lives, and now He wants us to turn to page 2008 on New Year's Day with excitement and anticipation!"

"And," B added in agreement, "God is also the Narrator of our story, Nanay, just like in that Winnie the Pooh movie where Tigger and Pooh could talk to the Narrator and he talks back? And the Narrator could narrate them all out of sticky situations, like when Tigger was stuck up in a tree and couldn't bounce down, and the Narrator narrated him down safely by tilting the page!"

"That's exactly right, B," I replied, seizing the opportunity for a teaching moment. "And we do that all the time, too! We talk to the Narrator and Author of our story all the time and when we're still and we listen very carefully, we can hear Him narrating us through each page. When we're lost or stuck, He can narrate us out of anything! Do you know another name for talking to the Narrator, B?"

"What?" asked B with open curiosity.

So I said in mock horror, "What? You don't know? But you do it every night! I bet you know already." I then pretended to chew my dinner very carefully, taking my time, sipping my water.

It was easy to see that he was hooked on the topic and couldn't take the suspense any more without needing to make a dash for the bathroom. So I stopped teasing him, looked him in the eye and whispered, "Prayer, B. Whenever we pray, all we are really doing is talking to God as our Narrator and Author."

"Oh, yeah," said B with dawning realisation. "I'm excited to turn the page and see what He's written for us in 2008, Nanay. I can't wait!"

"Me, too, B!" I answered, and meant it with my whole heart.

B's Letter to Santa

Found this today on B's study table, written in purple marker on half a sheet of toilet paper:

"Dear Santa,

I like presents. Please give me a toy aeroplane, a battery operated train set, a box of toy cars and a wooden train set on Christmas.

Love from B."

Any takers, Ninongs and Ninangs?

Hehehe, just kidding :) While others his age have been overheard talking about who to ask out to go to the Christmas disco or are nagging their parents about the latest video games and equipment, our dear B, at 7, is still a little child, an uncomplicated boy who truly believes in the simple magic of Christmas.

For this, I am indescribably grateful.

Stay as sweet and as simple as you are, B. Hang on to your childhood.

For as long as you possibly can.

Please?

B's Spelling List For The Week

1. garden

2. smart

3. starlight

4. parliament ( I am NOT making this up!)

5. sparkle

6. particular

7. narrator

8. molar

9. calendar

10. popular

11. similar

12. cardinal

Some of these words I only learned in high school! What schools teach seven-year-olds nowadays!

Self-Censoring...

Yes, it sucks, having to censor myself from posting everything I want on B's blog. Or rather, on this very-repressed mom-blog for B. Only, I want to protect his privacy, his safety, his security and to keep his young life out of the bloglight, but I do want to share about his daily triumphs and challenges, to support and encourage other parents of ASD kids out there. Been careful, too, not to let this mom-blog become too much of a mom-blog. I get irritated with myself when I catch my nanay persona "blagging" (a word I've coined for bragging on a blog) and I end up just deleting an entry instead of publishing it. Perfectly normal for a mom to want to brag about their kids, but I have always been a non-conformist. Even in the area of being a mother, I do not want to conform. I do not want to be like other moms! I do not want to show my sons off! I do not want to parade them about and tell the world how wonderful they are, even if it's true! Hahaha, this is just a semi-serious rant, just in case you're wondering.
But seriously, I know how exquisitely annoying mom-blogs can be because I've sadly been both an annoyer and an annoyee myself, and I've quietly told myself to be less of an annoyer in future, to lessen all the existing annoyance in the world.
Well, let's see if I can stop self-censoring enough to get blogging about B and E again.

B's Saviour

Yesterday evening after tea, as the winter sun reluctantly said goodnight, B read out The Toddlers Bible Easter Book (by V. Gilbert Beers) to me and E as we all snuggled in his cosy bedroom.

As he read and pointed out the pictures, I was amazed and thankful at how much he already knew about what Jesus went through during Holy Week:

B: Look, Nanay. That's Jesus riding a donkey on Palm Sunday! When do we get to wave palms at Jesus, too?

Me: Why, this coming Sunday in Church! Isn't that exciting? But we just get little-bitty cross-shaped palms over here, not like the nice swishy ones we had in the Philippines.

B: When we go to visit the Philippines, can we have a swishy palm to wave to Jesus?

Me: Of course, B! Each of us will have a swishy palm on Palm Sunday! You know when I miss home the most? It's during Holy Week... Someday, we will be able to have Holy Week in the Philippines again.

B: Okay... (then moving on to the next story) Jesus had a special supper with His friends here... Nanay, Jesus says here, "Remember Me, Remember how I will die for you.." (Then he paused, thinking.) Is He talking to them or to us?

Me: To us, B, to all of us. He wants us to remember Him, and that's what we do when we go to Communion in church, when you cross your arms over your chest and stand in the queue, even if the priest isn't allowed to give you the host yet.

B: And Jesus is IN the bread, right, Nanay. And someday I will also get to eat Jesus Bread, too!

Me: That's right, B, next year you'll be eating Jesus Bread, too.

Then B read us several more stories, until we finally got to the part where Jesus dies on the Cross... This was a tricky part, a part he almost always skipped because the images and descriptions of Jesus dying and suffering on the Cross made him feel sad and upset... He always avoided looking at the nails or talking about Jesus' wounds... So this time, I watched him closely, curious about whether he would skip or read on.

To my surprise, B read on.

B: See here, Nanay. Jesus is wearing a crown of thorns, it's not a real crown, and it's painful... It says here, "Jesus wants to help us live with God in heaven. When we sin, we can't go there. But Jesus died to take away our sin. He wants to be our Saviour. He will if we ask. Will you ask Him?"

At this point, B stopped and appeared to be considering the question. And I suddenly felt the Spirit gently nudging me to give my son a gentle nudge, as well. So I did.

Me: B, do you want to ask Jesus to be your Saviour?

B: Yes... (And without waiting for me to say anything more, he immediately turned to talk to Jesus right there, as any child would.) Jesus, will You please be my Saviour? (Then he paused a bit, looking up at the ceiling.) Thank You, Jesus. Amen.

In my heart, I rejoiced! At age 6, B's simple prayer might not technically be considered a turning point, a dramatic "conversion experience" but I am certain, deep in my heart of hearts, that the Lord HAS heard B's prayer, and that He was pleased with it, and will honour it and remember it. I'm sure that B's whole heart was in that prayer, and I simply know that Jesus saw into B's soul like no one else can, and just loved him, loved him, loved him. I felt my tears welling up and pricking my eyes, but somehow I managed to keep them from falling until after I tucked him in and kissed him goodnight.

Oh, B, last night, on the 30th of March 2007, whether you knew it or not, you gave your life for the first time to Jesus. And whether or not you understood everything your prayer means, I'm sure Jesus will teach you, day by day, as you grow in His love. He heard you, He saw what was in your young heart, and He will be your Saviour from now on.

One of my favourite saints, St. Therese of Lisieux, once said that "prayer is an aspiration of the heart, a simple glance directed to heaven..." and that "like a child... [she says] very simply to God what [she wishes] to say, without composing beautiful sentences, and He always understands [her]." This is what you did last night, B, you sent a simple, childlike glance of love towards heaven, and you asked Jesus in the simplest words possible that He be your Saviour. And I believe, and I know, that Jesus heard your perfect, beautiful prayer last night.

Jesus heard my prayer, too, when I was just 14, and although I was still very young then, my prayer mattered to Him, too. He met me where I was, and brought me to where I am now, starting with and because of that prayer. I just know in my gut that He will do the same with you. Jesus is YOUR Saviour now, B, simply because you asked Him.

And I commit myself to you and your brother E, to be your guide and your companion as you discover Jesus' love, to be as good a witness as I humanly can be, to help you nurture the intimate relationship you're already starting to have with the Lord. As your mother, I can do no greater thing than to bring you and E to Jesus. More than just caring for your needs or teaching you to be clever in school, your Tatay and I are called to be your first links to God, your first evangelizers, your first experience of Church on earth. When you get older, it won't matter to us if you become rich, successful, famous or accomplished in the eyes of men. What will matter to us is if Jesus is still in your heart, if you love Him and if you are trying your best to love as He loves. And in the end, that is all that really matters.

What you did last night will stay with me for the rest of my life, B. You are such an inspiration to me. You are teaching me how it is to please the Lord, with childlike simplicity and a readiness to embrace what Jesus gives, no questions asked, no ifs or buts, no fancy words or fireworks. It gives me hope in my own walk with the Lord. Believe it or not, at your tender age, B, you are a shining example to me. My own little saint-in-the-making.

How wonderful it is that Jesus loves us all, and wants to be our Saviour, whether we are six or sixty-four.

Nanay at Work

"When will you go to work, Nanay?" asked B as I cut his fingernails before school this morning. "When will you have some work to do?"

Too early, Lord, I said to myself as I tried to come up with an appropriate reply. Too early in the morning and too early in his life to start asking me these questions!

I found I had nothing to say, so I remained silent. Luckily, Tatay O was there to catch the ball in the air.

"Nanay already has work, B. She works very hard in the house."

"On the computer?" B persisted.

"Not just that. She takes care of all of us. She teaches your brother, she cooks us delicious food, she washes your clothes, cleans up your mess, helps you with homework, takes care of our money, collects you from school... Nanay is very good at her work. We should thank her for what she does for us."

That seemed to do the trick. B seemed to digest that for a few minutes before launching into another of his early-morning topics.

Relieved, I smiled at O gratefully for saving me from having to come up with a convincing reply to B's question.

Because it's one that has been weighing on my mind for a while now, that question. In fact, it sort of stung a bit to hear it said out loud, but since it came from B, I knew his motives were pure.

And the answer to that question is--- well, B, I wish I knew.

I wish I knew.