Babied

 

The salon is full. The night's atmosphere for the Grand Hotel's guests gives an invitation to dance the night away. Why not? The drinks and food are free to all VIPs like him, sent by his company to attend a Symposium on How to Prevent A Divorce. He is a marriage counselor like the rest of about a hundred people in the room, men and women.

In his 50's, he deceives people, especially women, with his neat look, pleasing and charming personality. He loves to maintain his physical appearance through good habits when it  comes to food and exercises. 

Almost a narcissist before the eyes of his loving wife of the same age, who to his own set of standards for an excellent body for a woman has never met, unfortunately. He laughs to himself at that. But, he loves her. Besides, he will rather stand that, live with it, than to damage his reputation for the sake of his job. What is good that night, she is not with him. Otherwise, she will have to stop him from having his fifth glass of martini. He smiles to himself at the thought of her.

People around him, younger and older than him, have been having fun dancing, drinking and whispering to each other. Some are obviously flirting with each other. He shakes his head and smiles.

"Of course, we are exempted to the rule."

He talks to himself to find an excuse.

Though the night is so inviting, he decides to leave the salon when his thoughts reminds him of his wife. With her taking care of their three grandchildren back home. His faithful wife has been an excellent wife and mother to his four children. She has been taking care of him, not just as a wife, but almost like a mother! He has been so babied by her. 

"I think I have enough, even more than I usually drink."

He wants more, but convincing himself to stop.

"Well, pretty boy, you have to go to bed now or you can be led astray somewhere."

He gives a little laugh at the thought. Then drink the last drop from his glass. He leaves the glass on top of a hallway table leading to the Main Lobby, where he has to cross to the other side to take the elevator to his room.

Passing by the big lobby, there just came a young couple with a baby crying loud while being swung by a mother in her arms. Her singing a lullaby. He gives no importance, but before reaching the front of the elevator, he glimpses the mother preparing herself to feed the baby by lifting her blouse.

The elevator's door is already opened. It is empty. He is alone. He stands there for a moment. His mind shouting something to him.

"Take a look! Take a look!"

He answers himself with a shake of his head.

"Nee, what for?"

At least he is trying to resist. But he turns around walking backward into the elevator while his eyes are purposely searching for that mother. He finds her. The baby is already sucking the mother's breast. Though the mother has a nice wrap on top of her feeding baby, the whiteness and fullness of her breast is exposed. He looks at her. She is lovingly looking at her husband besides her. Both have fixed eyes on each other. 

"What a beautiful, attractive woman she is!"

His eyes reveal to him admiringly.

"Oh! it is too late, man!"

He feels some sort of disappointment. He is already inside the elevator. No chance but to press the elevator's button before he can be tempted to something else.

"Just like that?"

That is his mind asking him.

"Stay in the lobby and watch the mother at least."

His mind keeps tempting.

He shakes his head as if to speed away the evil thoughts out.

"God, send that evil out of me, please!"

He closes his eyes pleading those words. The elevator moves up. He feels relief upon reaching the floor to his room. He is almost running even if his room is just a few steps from the elevators. As soon as he enters his room, he takes off his clothes and straight to the shower. Hot shower. 

The writer stops for a while. Trying to figure out what happens to his character. Smiling about it, The Pen suddenly falls to the floor. It is in the hand with the arm hanging on the chairs armrest. 

"Finish my story!"

The Pen claims. So the writer obeys.

Right after drying himself, he struggles to put on his pajama and drop his body to bed. The drinks in combination with the hot shower seem to knock him out to sleep.

"There it is your ending The Pen!"

The writer drops his pen, looks at the table clock then rubs both eyes. Finishing the fifth beer in hand, lying back to the rolling chair with full backrest, without realizing it, sleep creeps in. 

 Check for more: Tap below

Babied 2

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

The Voice of the Cross

        

 

  

The Voice of the Cross

Jesus is the Good Shepherd (Psalm 23). He calls those He owns. Those who listens to His calls then, are His own.

 So in a flack of families, a son separates from his father or mother or family. Just like a daughter or a mother's separation from the rest. Any member of such family who recognizes His call will be separated from the rest since they recognize His voice. (Matthew 10:34-38)

These happens when God sent people who can be preachers, siblings or known to one or even strangers come to any one who God believes need or searching to know about His Beloved Son.  

A person with an open heart willing his soul to be saved by someone he believes has the power, the true heavenly power, to do so will listen. WILL LISTEN. Otherwise, a person busy with all his heart about earthly things will ignore. NO DOUBT.

So, wake up!

                               

The Two Sides of the Coin 

There are only two sides of the coin, La Cara y Cruz. In English, the Face and the Cross. The point here is understanding the meaning of these two sides in application to life.

The Face? Whose face do you believe you see? The Cross? How do you see the cross? Is it UpRight or UpsideDown? How do you carry it?

"...and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me." (Matthew 10:38)

Each human being has a cross to carry. The question is how is it being carried? However it is, it identifies which side the carrier belongs to. If it isn't carried how Jesus did it, whoever is not with Him then is against Him.

The UpRight cross as how it was carried by Jesus has its full weight on His shoulder. Going down the cross becomes lighter. (Learn the Bible which is The Word of God, learn why.)

Turning the cross UpsideDown, the weight is reversed. The full weight is all the way down being dragged. 

Tip to thinkings: To go UP, you need the full force on the peak, not on the tail. To go DOWN, the reverse of it, you need the full force on the tail. Now, it must depend on which sides between Good and Bad you are in to reason out, understand and stay in. (May God bless you. We all need it.)

There is no further explanation neither arguments nor debates is necessary for those who believes. True brothers and sisters in the same "belief mode" or "sheep pen" provokes, irritates nor fights each other. Simply because, PEACE is founded in their hearts.

What really MATTERS? PEACE.

Who can give the Peace that really matters?

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."

That's the message of Jesus. The Good Shepherd to those who believes in Him and God who sent Him, the Father Almighty and Only God.

"May God forgives us all our sins and bless us all with Peace.", a message from Simple-Me and The Pen.  

Check for more: Tap below

The latest Series: The Writer Series

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

 

 

                            

 

 

Message from Jesus (Intermission 2)

 

 THE GOOD BOOK SAYS 

 Check for more: Tap more below 

The Good Book Says

Spirited

 

 

 

 

"Daddy, come!"

 A little boy of three years old called his daddy who was walking a few steps behind him.

They were walking on a street sidewalk high above the rocks from the beach.  They stand right in front of Alfonsina Beach of Mar del Plata, a vacation province of Buenos Aires.  

On the other side of the street stands the statue of Alfonsina, a famous protagonist of Argentina's love story.

His daddy heard his call, but did not look.  His father's head unconsciously made a turn around above him, his eyes looking up as if following something in the air.  Then stopped. His curiosity led him to the seashore where his son was also looking at, as if seeing something mysterious in there.

The curious smile his father had for him a while ago turned into something serious, but calm. They were both in the same condition for maybe three minutes until his mother came behind them with his older sister. They followed the eyes of his father and his to the aligned rocks formed like a way to a certain point on the water.

"What's up hubby?"

His mother asked his father. She was frowning and puzzled. 

Still looking straight ahead, her husband did not say anything. After a few seconds, her husband grabbed their son's hand and without looking at his wife turned around with his head down.

"I don't know, wifey. I guess nothing."

Then he set himself with his son to continue walking. The mother kept standing where she was, wondering.

"What is in there?"

She turned her look across the street. She read something about the statue built in the place in honor of Alfonsina.

 "Mommy, let's go! They are leaving us behind."

Her daughter woke her up from the mysterious spell she felt around her. So they moved on.

"Yes. We have to move on."

That incident was two years ago.

In her present, the mother became a widow. She was remembering that incident by the beach upon her arrival to their home with son and daughter. They just came from the funeral. Heart and soul heavy  for the three of them. The love of her life, her husband, father of her two children died due to cancer. 

The writer wanted to continue writing, but the pen stopped. He checked if there wasn't any ink left in it. There was enough. It was half way. Shaking the pen did not help. He tried to continue, but nothing. So the writer stopped. 

"For the moment"

He said to himself and The Pen.

"Buddy, I am ready." 

It was The Pen. The writer agreed.

That incident the widow remembered happened two years ago. Few more years before that, she had a talk with the husband's surgeon.

"We have to do the microsurgery. It is a brain tumor that has to be taken out."

It was done. The operation was successful. What followed gave her husband a second life. By then, their daughter was three years old.

A year passed, her husband insisted to have another child. He wanted a son. 

"What if it turns out to be another girl?"

She asked while happily smooched herself in his arms under the bed sheets.

"I'll make sure it's a boy."

That was all he answered. 

Bingo! Ten months later, they have another child. A boy!

She giggled despite her sorrow at the memory. She inhaled deeply and exhaled air, long enough to relax herself. She felt a little alleviated from her pain.

As soon as they were back to their house from the cemetery, she seated herself in her husband's swing chair. There lies his manta, a blue and white colored wool blanket. She covered herself with it.

All the people in the room were busy. They have invited the funeral attendees to come and have a snack before going home. She meant "they" referring to her own family and in-laws who themselves served the close friends and relatives. 

"Mommy, someone would like to give this to you."

It was her daughter. She didn't realize she had come beside her with a little card in her hand.

"Thank you darling. Who gave this?"

Her daughter looked around in search of the person.

"Oh no! I can't find her. It was a small woman in white dress."

Then her daughter continued describing the woman and her conversation with her.

As she described the woman, the first person that came to mind was her mother. But she died already long before her daughter was born.

"Thank you very much sweetie. I can guess who she is."

"Who is she, mommy? She told me before she left to remind you that daddy wanted his ashes to be thrown at the seashore, the beach where we love to spend vacation." 

She smiled at the daughter.

"Maybe an angel, dear. Thank you."

Her daughter smiled at her response with bright eyes.

"Yes, mommy. I felt great talking to her. I just forgot to ask her name."

She gave her mother a strong hug.

"If ever I'll see her again, I will remember to ask her name so I can tell you."

"Okay."

Then she turned around as she was fetched by some friends to play in the backyard.

The widow looked at the card and read...

Someone knocked at the door. The writer has to go and attend. Then continue working with The Pen.

After reading the card, the sad widow closed her teary eyes,and half smiling she murmured to herself some lines to relieve pain in her soul.

"I believe in God, the Almighty God."

The writer then turned to read what's in the card. He smiled. He was pleased.

Message From Jesus:

(Excerpt from Gift Book)

Closer than before I do not separate loved ones through death.

I have given you a spiritual link with your loved one.

Even though he is no longer with you in body, you can still feel his presence and know that he is always with you in spirit.

I will not leave you comfortless and neither will he. He is even closer than before.

Through the years, you learned to almost read each other's mind. You knew what he was going to say or how he was going to react almost before he did, or vice versa. 

Now he can actually read your mind, and just as wonderful, you can hear his voice inside as he guides your thoughts and gives you reassurances of his forever love. This is My way of allowing you to continue to be together in spirit.

But that's not all. Your loved one also wants to help you learn to be more heavenly minded. He has already entered into the joys and rewards of Heaven, and he wants to share a little foretaste of that with you now.

I will wipe the tears from your eyes on that day when we meet face to face, and you will be united again with those you love who have gone on ahead of you.

Before long, you and your loved one will be together again on this side of the veil -- the veil that now separates your world from this heavenly one -- and you will live forever in the beautiful home I have prepared for you.  

 Check for more: Tap below

Spirited 2

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

 

 

 

Watched

                              

It's been a long, hot day, and late in the evening.

The taxi driver, an old gray haired man in his 60's has been on the street trying his best to earn money for his employer's day fee, boundary they call it, for the taxi rent.  The rest shall be his personal earnings.

He parked the car on a street side. Looking around first if it would be safe for him to park on such a corner of the street.  It's already eleven thirty in the evening.  He would not work anymore.  He has to return the car before midnight.

There wasn't anybody around. The night was so quiet and the street empty. If ever someone would come walking, he surely would notice.

He started to count his money.  Two hundred, three hundred, he counted till he reached five hundred of the local money.  He said to himself, "Fine. I have the money for the taxi's rent."  Then, he started to count the remaining money.  But before that, he closed his eyes to pray.

"May the Lord's will be mine to have the money sufficient enough for my daughter's college tuition fee."

Suddenly, his prayer was cut.

"Do not shout. Do not be stupid.  Just do what I tell you."

He heard a commanding, scary voice whisper to his right ear. He opened his eyes and felt a gun pointed on the right side of his forehead.  Two thieves had entered his car without his knowledge.

"Oh, my God! I have forgotten to lock the doors! Lord, help me!"

The man at the back added more warnings.

"It is better for you old man to listen to my father's will.  Otherwise, you can be dead."

It was a younger man's voice he heard.  He looked at the little mirror of his car and saw him.

"He is just a baby!"

The taxi driver heard himself saying those and felt sorrow in his heart.

"How old are you, young man?"

He dared to ask.

The man beside him frowned and pushed the gun more unto him.  He's a man around his fifties.  A deceiving, decent looking man, well-dressed in a polo shirt and fairly brown skin.  He seemed to be a tall man complemented by his good body structure.

"They don't look like thieves at all! But why this and with the gun?"

Question that he could not dare to ask.

"It is none of your business, old man."

It was the response to his inquiry for the younger man's age.

"Just give me that money you are counting and we will leave you alone."

He looked at his money and without delay, tears started to fall from his eyes.

"I did not stop working the whole day to earn my daughter's tuition fee."

The man seemed to be moved. The gun was distanced a little away from him.  While the son at the back just bowed his head. Sadness in his face.

"Well, old man, we all work hard on what we can."

He grabbed the money away. But then saw the driver's blue Casio watch.  The old man followed his look to his watch and noted that it was already quarter to midnight.

The man tried to grab the watch from his arm, but he refused and pleaded.

"No! Please don't! This is my daughter's gift for my birthday out of her one year's savings. Please don't! Have mercy!"

The young man at the back told his father not to do so. Obviously touched by the old man's words.

"Leave it father!"

The young thief was about to say more when they suddenly heard a police siren somewhere.

The two men panicked and went out running to their car behind the taxi.

"So they have parked behind me and I did not realize it!"

He looked at the back through his taxi's side mirror and saw them gone.  He locked his car's doors and with crossed arms on the wheels he cried hard.

It took him some minutes before he lifted his face and lay his head against his chair's backrest.  His mind was blank.  His heart felt pain.  His body tired. Then he looked at his watch. It gave him a smile. He inhaled deeply and exhaled the pain from inside.

"Thanks God. I am saved and my watch, my baby's watch."

He thought it better to start the car and to leave.

After twenty minutes, he arrived at the Taxi Station's Office.  He entered the main gate of the parking station, turned to his designated lot.

"Now, how would I convince the Manager that I am telling the truth after having this second robbery I suffered just this week."

He closed his eyes to think.  He was so tired he fell asleep easily.

"Hey Thomas! Wake up!"

The door on the passenger seat side was being knocked by a coworker who just parked his taxi beside his car.

He woke up on a jerk and opened the door.  The man did not enter but just bent down to talk to him.

"What happened? So sleepy? Working hard again?"

He gave him a very sad face.

"I was robbed again."

The man was shocked and cursed.

"Really? What kinds of bastards we have these days!"

He looked at the old man with pity on his face.

"Bad luck for me. It is the second one in the week."

"It can happen to anyone, what do you think?"

The man saw something on the passenger's side floor and told him about it before closing the door.

"Let us talk inside the office. Don't forget to pick up your wallet from the floor."

The man left and went straight to the office.

The taxi driver was puzzled.

"What wallet?"

He looked at the floor and saw a wallet.

"This isn't mine."

He opened his little car's drawer in front of the passenger seat where he kept his driver's license and empty wallet left there after he took the money to count them.

He looked down and picked up the wallet from the floor. It was the man's leather wallet. It should be.

It was a good one. There were not  any identification cards, nothing but three hundred USA dollars!

His eyes went round like the moon!

"Ha! Ha! Ha!"

He was so glad he could not decide if he would rather jump with joy or start shouting he found a wallet with dollars!

"This must really be the thieves' wallet that fell without realizing it. I wonder where these come from, but this money is even more than I can earn for months!"

He closed his eyes, this time with a big smile and a happy heart.

"Thank you God! Thank you! Forgive but I will, of course, keep these for me. I am so grateful I don't know what to say more, but thank you!"

The writer parked his pen as well, feeling happy for his ending. 

 Check for more: Tap below

Watched 2

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)