There are events and people that – like lightning and thunder cracking through a still and cloudless day – leave us with the realization that we do not own all the troubles in the world. No matter how much we exaggerate and over-amplify all of our sorrows, somebody else’s woes would simply render our anguish a needle prick in the arm compared to a real hard blow dealt on the other person. We make mountains out of molehills, so to speak, when another person has a volcano to grapple with.

When such realization dawns upon us, we suddenly realize that, indeed, life is still worth-living. Especially so when the people – on whom a great deal of difficulty was poured – turn out to be living testimonies of such insight. They leave a harrowing experience and evolve to be stronger persons than they originally were. They move on and never look back with anger at the chapter that they have just closed. They do look back, but they do so with pride, for the wisdom that they were able to hoard from such bitter experiences.

We all have met people who fit into the descriptions I have outlined above. We do, from time to time. And I have – again, recently, when I attended the Annaguey-Artizuela Clan Reunion in Labayug, Sison, Pangasinan; that eastern part of Pangasinan which the Bago tribe has cornered – at least for those who chose not to settle in Casigayan, Tabuk.

Manang Elsie Artizuela Sambaoa Pal-iwen, a cousin, touched a nerve in all of us as we listened to what she had to endure when she was diagnosed with breast cancer – at the very crucial Stage 4. She gave a run-through of the days that she spent knowing she had entrusted everything in the Lord. But even so, she prayed real hard for God to bless the powers of medical science on which her physical being began to depend. She underwent chemotherapy and every sting attached to it. She lived from one day to the next wondering what God has in store for her and her own home which is still on its build-up period. She braved it all – along with her mother Cresencia, her brother Melvin, her husband Alejandro, and children Aldrin, Keni Eloisa and Andrei (her father, Bonifacio Sambaoa, had long ago left this earthly existence).

As she went on with her story, one can see through her words and perceive a strong person who was not only prepared to meet her Maker but also hopeful that God will turn things around and change the course of her fate. Her strength – especially its spiritual aspect – made her progress day-to-day, yet aware that any moment God shall call her in for judgment.

But so far He has not. And what a blessing that is – for her, her family, her clan, and the people who knew what she was going through.

Her doctors have concurred that should a relapse fail to be diagnosed within five years, then the cancer cells may have continuously went on remission. A miracle, considering the stage in which the malady was spotted.

As her recollection misted every eye in the hall, I had another glimpse of our Creator who would afflict us so that people may sit up, take notice, listen and acknowledge His presence. Manang Elsie, of course, has always lived her life devoted to Christian teachings. She has always been a dutiful follower. Given her training in the Bible School of the Wesleyan Church in Rosales, Pangasinan, she has taken a path that can only be described to be exemplary. With a husband schooled in Vet Med (Dr. Pal-iwen is actually a fellow of Dr. Juanito Eyadan of my school, KASC), Manang Elsie should sail through life smiling, laughing, singing, expressing prayers of thankfulness for all such bliss. Everyday. But she would not. She is instead used by God as an instrument so that others may look at their own frailties and come to terms with Him. When God sends a message, He does not choose a messenger who shall be rendered weak by the package in which the message was wrapped – in Manang Elsie’s case, the cancer cells.

Well – since no one can peek into even an infinitesimal dot of God’s wisdom – perhaps, God may choose a person who is not as strong as the likes of Manang Elsie. But then God is a loving God. Perhaps He afflicts us, then leaves matters to us: to give-in or to grow from the experience; to succumb or to be strong; to collapse or to climb; to abandon or to ascend. to fall or to fight, with faith.

Looking at how healthy Manang Elsie is now, one concludes that she picked the right option.

*****

In my literature class, there is this classic short story written by the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy, God Sees the Truth, But Waits. The story tells of Ivam Aksenov who was wrongly convicted for a crime which he did not commit. He was incarcerated. Near the end of his term, a newcomer, Makar Semonovich, who was caught for another crime – but who was also the original culprit of the crime for which Ivan was jailed – saw the life he had somehow ruined in Ivan. He confessed to the crime as well and asked the prison to release Ivan. But by then, Ivan was already too old, and all his years in prison has somehow made him an even better person, ministering to the people inside, thus endearing himself to everyone in there – guard or criminal. Instead of becoming vindictive, Ivan forgave the real criminal.

In today’s standards, such thing may not happen. One may like to rewrite the ending so that when the real criminal confesses, Ivan would simply burst out, lunge for the nearest guard’s gun and aim it at the goal of his anger.

It is surprising to note that a relative underwent almost the same experience. When insan Freddie (Artizuela) shared his testimony about finding God in prison from which he was released for a crime that was wrongly blamed on him, I felt that God really works in strange places. Well, considering that there is not much to do in prison, one has no choice but face the visiting folks from all sorts of denominations. So that when one goes out, life gets back to normal. Back to the old ways.

But not so for insan Freddie. He lived up to the vows he has made in prison, and is now seeking training to be a full fledged instrument in the delivery of God’s Word – with a current training at evangelical Bible School in Baguio City.

Freddie is from Magaogao, Pinukpuk and I have a strong feeling that he might be able to minister to the rural folks there – should he choose to practice his brand-new calling there.

*****

Pastor Rey Annaguey (a cousin at the reunion) of the Assembly of God Chruch in Galimuyod, Ilocos Sur, wove all these testimonies into one and made us look at the intent behind each event in our lives – thus making it easier for us to comprehend the ways of God.

*****

When I parted ways with the Tabuk party at the National Highway (they would be taking the opposite direction while I would be taking a bus headed further north in Batac), I mulled over the thoughts that stirred me at the reunion, as I sat at the waiting shed. I purposefully did not flag down any incoming bus yet as I collected my thoughts and decided I should write about the affair.

After awhile, I noticed that the only other person who was also occupying the shed – a lady vendor of late-night street offerings like ballot, peanuts, cigarettes, etc. – was joined by someone who obviously was partner, as he had his head on her lap, resting. I then positioned myself closer to the highway and set about getting a bus ride. As it turned out, all the buses were wheezing past by me – flying, actually. I realized I was at that part of the route where drivers never bother to check road sides for prospective passengers. Their speed was constant – no shifting to a decelerated velocity. Still, I tried my luck. RCJ Liner, Partas, Florida – the three biggest companies servicing the Laoag-Manila route – flew past by me, one after the other.

One hour later, I gave up and resigned to the fact that my fortune would only change if a passenger got off the bus at the very portion of the earth on which I stood. Noticing my agitation (who wouldn’t be? It was close to midnight and my class at MMSU-Batac would be at 8 AM the following morning), the male partner of the lady vendor got up and put into words what I have already grasped minutes before: “Narigat ti agpara ti lugan ditoy ading ti kastoy nga oras, ta bumanesbes amin nga bus,” he said.

I then faced the couple and made conversation. Upon learning that I was heading to Batac, the man said “Aguray ta agbike nak nga mapan mangkita dita Balao nu adda agsarsardeng dita nga bus mapan Laoag.”

I countered, saying I was sure that all buses making a stopover in Balao are headed to Baguio City – to save him the trouble of really going over there. Still, he said he will try, and that if his query would get a negative response, he said I should hire a tricycle that would bring me to the Partas terminal, “Ngem adayu bassit adding. Arkila nu kua ti ibaga ti driver.”

Of course, all the buses parked at Balao at that time were headed to Baguio. So I did hire a tricycle going to the Partas terminal. For seventy pesos. Dagupan to Appas siguro ti distansya na.

As I expressed my gratitude to the man for all the trouble he went to (just so he could get rid of me from that waiting shed, perhaps?), I was again struck by the thought that not everything in the world is as bad as we all surmise it to be. There is always something good in everybody. The man did not know who I was, yet he made the first move to reach out and see what he could do – he actually accompanied me for awhile in desperately flagging down a bus ride (it was always dark inside whatever bus that passed, that I nervously hoped only the passengers were sleeping).

I said my “thank you” in the most sincere manner I could. He just waved me off, as if it was a normal occurrence in his nightly job of heating the corn and packing the quail eggs by five. As the tricycle driver carefully took the un-cemented shoulder off the highway, I wondered what the vendor’s reaction may be if he had asked what province I happened to hail from (considering the issues between Kalinga and Pangasinan). Maybe the exchange would have run this way:

VENDOR: Apay taga ano ka kadi ading?

ME: Tabuk manong.

VENDOR: Tabuk, Kalinga?

ME: Wen.

VENDOR (suddenly turning vicious): Idtam! Agpara ka ti lugan mo! Agalibtak ka, nu haan mu kayat ti ma-obor.

Me: Ay… Tuguegarao gayam manong.

*****

Really, may God watch over the man – and continue to be as accommodating as he was.

(NOTE: as for the continuation of the story contained in this column last issue, the plan to retaliate against our 4^th Grade classmate simply died down as the day wore on. That squealer is now working at a Cooperative here in Tabuk, and we are still friends.)