The Six Candles - Last Chapter

 

Last Chapter

The birthday cake in front of me was a beautifully prepared chocolate cake. Unfortunately I did not have a camera on hand to take a picture of it, but just could describe it.

It was a rectangular shaped, medium size cake, purely made of chocolate, covered with dark brown chocolate as well. Simple. It was prepared by my daughter and granddaughter. A homemade cake. On it's corners all around were chips of MM's, most probably placed there by my lovely grandchild.

"Grandma!"

I turned around to the call of a beautiful five year old girl, still in her pyjamas. She has long black hair, big brown eyes and pinkish lips.

"Hello there my sweetie pie!"

I grabbed her to lift her up in my arms, kissing and hugging her. She kissed me several times too. Then put her eyes on the cake then at me.

"We prepared that cake last night for your birthday today!"

She proudly told me while still having her arms on my neck and talking to me at short length between our faces.

"You did?"

I asked and she nodded.

I placed her down and she climbed herself up on a chair in front of her the birthday cake.

"How old are you today grandma?"

She turned around to ask me. I smiled at her before seating myself beside her and caressed her hair.

"I am 60!"

She smiled with her eyes grown big.

"You are?"

I gladly nodded.

"That's too many candles to put on the cake!"

She expressed her worries that made me laugh cheerfully.

"That's why we cut it into six."

That one who interrupted was my daughter, coming into the kitchen. She seated herself on the other side of my granddaughter.

My little girl looked at her mom then at me, afterwards to the cake itself. She noticed that the five candles were already placed except one, the pink. It was still on the table waiting for the chance to participate with the others.

"You haven't placed one yet, grandma."

I heartily laugh with enjoyment observing her eyes.

"It was meant for you to place it there, my dear."

She gave a happy, excited smile.

"Yes, I will! I will for you grandma!"

My daughter and I gave her a glorious laugh as she held the pink candle, fixed her look at the cake as if analyzing where should be the right place to put it.

As she was asking suggestions from her mother, I had the time to realize how lucky I had been in my sixty years on this earth.

Life has led just the three of us being together at this precious moment. The most beautiful moment of my life. 

The most tragic moments of our lives were over. All tragedies because of money. I would rather not account nor think about them anymore.

What is most important, we have each other. We have Love. We have Life.

The End.

Thank you for reading!

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

The Six Candles - Chapter 5

 Chapter 5

Before asking me a question, he made sure his walkie talkie was turned off.

"You know you are not supposed to go anywhere else but save yourself reporting to your station in an emergency."

I looked intently at him as if warning him not to dare look at my paper bag. He sensed it. He did not do anything. I was serious.

"Yes."

I answered him. That's all. Yet I kept looking straight to his eyes without smiling or laughing while deep inside me, my whole body was already cracking with laughter. I was able to hold my composure. Fortunately.

In normal circumstances, he would grab whatever I would be trying to hide or not to share with anyone. He knew I would not mind it especially if I looked open to jokes having smiles on my face. We were close friends.

The intrigue did not leave him. So he asked me politely what's inside the paper bag. I refused questioning him back.

"Why curious?"

Everyone's attention was with us. We knew as an officer he had the right to ask and do his role.

"We are on a drill. You know I have to make sure you're not a terrorist, hiding any weapon or firearms in that bag, much more a grenade."

He answered me without blinking while the others silently laughed. He was so serious looking. I was the same. Serious face like him. Though the corners of my mouth were starting to resist its tightness.

Without saying anything else, I put my hand inside the bag and showed him my chocolate bar.

Everyone in the line, and I was in the middle, suddenly cracked to laughter, except me. My friend  noticed it. He realized I was too serious for him to take my warning look.

"You put your life in danger in a case of emergency just to save a chocolate bar?"

He did burst into laughter. For a second, he looked again at my paper bag then at me. I was still serious, looking straight at him like saying, "Don't you ever dare!"

"It was the last one I could find. If I die in this tragedy, I would have died happy savouring it without anyone grabbing it from me."

I reasoned out those words to my friend. He nodded his head with obvious suspicions then slightly bent his head to murmur some words to my ear.

"That's what you think."

He said those words and kissed my ear. Then turned around to walk farther while talking to his walkie talkie.

"Dare me!"

I responded which he heard because he turned back and gave an amused expression on his face.

Remembering my best friend and best pal on the job gave unexplainable joy in my heart. It was those beautiful moments that had made my life worth living and full of colors.

I was holding green and blue. While I put the green candle beside the left side of red, I was remembering my BFF and her dollars. 

Then I placed beside it the blue candle, remembering those blue eyes of my best pal.

The birthday cake in front of me was a beautifully prepared chocolate cake. Unfortunately I did not have a camera on hand to take a picture of it, but just could describe it.

To be continued...

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The Six Candles - Last Chapter

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The Six Candles - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 Three candles have already found their places on the cake. So I have three more left to find theirs.

"Mom!"

It was my daughter again shouting from the living room after the phone rang. Somebody called.

"Yes!"

I responded shouting too since we were far from each other.

"It's your best friend. She confirms she's coming!"

The notice brought joy to my heart. My BFF, short for Best Friend Forever, just called to confirm her presence to the birthday event.

I admire that woman friend a lot. You can say she worked for the money because she works a lot, but not really. Money was just a paper to her, an instrument of reward for a job well done. 

Her connection with God and Jesus has always been intact. Thanks to her mother's good teachings. Money has never really won the first place battle in her mind and heart, in her life. She has never stopped to use money to help people she could help. 

Once she tried to convince me to accept a job that offers promotion, status and more money I refused. I told her I hate to hold money. That I hate money.

She was surprised, of course. Her irritated facial expression suddenly disappeared and her face looked beautiful to me again. She asked why.

I confessed to her about my money perception. It wasn't that I was afraid of handling money or the job itself. I would rather do the paperwork than be responsible directly about the possession of others' money on my hands.

As of my own money, they never last in my hand. I have always sent them away where they were meant for in my life. I send someone else to handle it for me.

My friend was able to understand my point of view, though she disagreed. She respected my decision and kept our conversation to ourselves.

By that time, we were both working onboard a love boat. Yes! It was a one-day entertainment cruise ship that travelled between a port of the United States of America to the Bahamas Islands.

One day, we had a ship's drill. It was called a Fire Drill, like a simulacro. In case of emergency, each crew working onboard must know what to do and each performing a role.

I was a receptionist and my friend was an officer. At that moment of the drill, I was working inside the Hotel Department's Office, typing something. The emergency bell rang and we, all crew and officers, must report to corresponding assigned stations immediately.

I understood it was a drill, but it seemed it was a real one. Something was really happening in the Engine Room while the ship was docked at the port, fortunately without passengers.

My friend quickly handed me her key to her safety deposit box. I have mine too. She told me to get what's inside her box and be quiet about it. Then rushed back to comply with her ship's obligations as an officer. 

I did not have the chance to ask a question. I quickly opened first my own safety box. I wasn't sure what I had there. I found out I had only a brown paper bag with my most favorite chocolate crunchy bar I bought in the Bahamas. It was the last chocolate bar I could find since it was so popular. It was the best!

"You've got to be saved!"

I smiled at myself, almost laughing while I took out the paper bag and before closing it, kissed my chocolate bar. Then closed my safety box.

I went next to my friend's box. My eyes got big! Hers was full of scattered dollar bills inside her box. She must have not deposited her salary yet. We just got paid two days ago. My pay was already deposited to the bank earlier that day. So I put all her dollars inside my paper bag. Then left to go to my own station.

On that drill, my role was to act as a passenger. I did not have to lead,but just to follow instructions like forming a line with the others.

There were about ten of us acting as a passenger, formed in a horizontal line outside the ship as we had reached the point of safety. 

As part of the ship's drill, each passenger on safety must be accounted for. Then a roll call of names had to be done.

The acting ship's representative as a group leader happened to be a coworker in the office of our department. He was a close friend of mine with whom I loved to work with as we had good vibes and a good time working happily joking with each other.

He stopped in front of me as he noticed my brown paper bag. He looked at me while reporting himself through his walkie talkie to the ship's captain that all passengers in command were safe.

Before asking me a question, he made sure his walkie talkie was off.

To be continued...

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The Six Candles - Chapter 5

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The Six Candles - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Thinking about spices as I placed the Second Candle, the yellow one, after relating the color to a mayonnaise's color, and office friendship but devilish boss, another moment has crossed my mind.

Maybe I was around twelve years old, I just came from school when I heard my mother talking to someone in her room office in the house. 

As it has been my mom's rule not to mess around in her office, I did not knock to greet her and tell her of my arrival.

I was the first one to come back home from school. The way to my room had to pass my mom's office. It was a little bit open. So the invitation to peep in was strong and so I did.

She was shouting to a woman almost her age of around fifties. The woman was dressed in a simple, cotton dress with her head bowed, and she was crying. Besides, the poor woman has her palms crossed as if praying or pleading something from my mother.  

Mother was seated in front of the woman on the opposite side of the office table, in her normal elegant dress, with a chin up attitude towards her.
"I promise to pay my debt. Just give me more time, I beg you."

I was so touched by the way the poor woman said those words. She touched my heart. I ran crying to my room discreetly, so my mom would not realize I was peeping into their conversation.

That event happened two years after I heard my parents shouting at each other. It came back again to my mind at that moment while I was crying in my room. 

As tears ran on my cheeks, I remembered myself saying, as if memorizing a line, the most unforgettable words I had pronounced.

"I hate money!"

I was at that moment of remembering the past when my daughter stepped into the kitchen where I am.

"Did you find the candles, mom?"

She found me pretty sad that she ran unto my side and hugged me.

"Are you okay?"

I looked at her without realizing I had a tear falling on my cheek.

"You are crying!"

My daughter's eyes got rounded and worried. Quickly, I ran my hand on my cheek to wipe the tear, and stood up from my chair, leaving her seated on the chair beside me.

"I am okay. Just a stupid memory crossed my mind."
The look in her eyes showed her disbelief. To ease the moment, I helped her stand from her chair and sent her away lovingly.

"I found the candles and I am trying to figure out how I would arrange them in accordance to their colors."

I answered my daughter's question and she laughed.
"It wasn't me who chose them but your granddaughter."

She told me happily. I laughed with her as I pictured my daughter's look a like child. My little Daphne. She's a beautiful, sweet five year old girl I considered my little doll alive.

"Okay, now I know. Get back to what you're doing and I'll finish finding places to these candles."

I said to my daughter while pushing her out from the kitchen. She hugged and kissed me first before getting out.

What a blessed mother and grandmother I am. Yes, that's me.

Well, I have four more candles  in my hand. Red and yellow were already placed in the cake. I still have blue, pink, green and violet left.

I looked at them and fixed my gaze on the violet. I stuck it besides the yellow candle in memory of the poor woman in her grief.

To be continued...

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The Six Candles - Chapter 4

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Why do you hide your face?

 

From The Pen: I understand that you want to repent but don't know how

                           to pray. Here's how. More of this you can find in the 

                           Word of God. So, get yourself a Holy Bible to learn

                           more. God bless you.

                          The Good Book Says

O Lord, the God who saves me, day and night I cry out before you. May my prayer come before you, turn your ear to my cry.

For my soul is full of trouble and my life draws near the grave. I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am like a man without strength. I am set apart  with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care.

You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths. Your wrath lies heavily upon me; you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.

You have taken from me my closest friends and have made repulsive to them. I am confined and cannot escape; my eyes are dim with grief.

I call to you, O Lord, every day; I spread out my hands to you. Do you show your wonders to the dead? Do those who are dead rise up and praise you?

Is your love declared in the grave, your faithfulness in Destruction? Are your wonders known in the place of darkness, or your righteousness deeds in the land of oblivion? But I cry to you for help, O Lord; in the morning my prayer comes before you. Why, O Lord, do you reject me and hide your face from me?

From my youth I have been afflicted and close to death; I have suffered your terrors and am in despair. Your wrath has swept over me; your terrors have destroyed me. All day long they surround me like a flood; they have completely engulfed me. You have taken my companions and loved ones from me; the darkness is my closest friend.

-  Psalm 88 

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The Good Book Says

The Six Candles - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I paused a while as I looked at the First Candle I placed in the middle of the cake in memory of the love of my parents. 

The red candle looked strong as strong as the love I felt for my mother and father.

As I moved on to the placement of the next candle, another past event came to mind.

At twenty years old, I was already working as an executive secretary to a president of a financing company. A difficult moment came to the company when debtors could not meet their obligations, besides other reasons for the failing business. 

I was instructed to head a group of secretaries to prepare a bunch of intimidating letters to be sent within a short day notice. I believed my boss got panicked or whatever. I had to convince, if not to beg, four secretaries more to help me type the letters on a Sunday. 

Fortunately, I was able to get help. The five of us worked on a non-working day. We were able to finish typing letters, have them ready for signing and disposal for the next day, Monday. 

Those were the days when offices were using electronic typewriters and correcting mistakes using paper correction tapes and liquids. The old days before the computers.

First office working day and my boss was already in a bad mood upon arriving at the office. Every time he came in such a mood, I never got afraid though he had always looked like a devil to me. Proving he was that day, he came straight to my table as he left the building elevator, to ask for the letters. I showed him the pile of two sets of letters totalling a hundred.

He picked up one and read it. I was sure he was checking keenly if the letter was perfect. It was. He was the kind of boss who would not accept a slight error nor correction in any of his letters. To some extent, I guessed it was my fault. I made him get used to my perfectionist way of working.

Then he checked one more and another. 

I was praying deep inside me that he would stop, because I could not guarantee that the other secretaries would have not made any mistakes and obvious corrections. I sorted the letters out. I had checked on them one by one and made sure whatever mistake or correction would not be noticeable, otherwise, I myself had to retype them.

The other secretaries just worked short hours since it was Sunday. They came to lend me a hand. I worked the whole day till normal office hours ended which was five o'clock. 

So, the following working day, Monday, I was a different person as I had worked seven days straight. I was not sure if I was a zombie, a freak or just a  drugged cold bear coming into the office.

Suddenly my boss picked up the whole bunch of papers and threw them up into the air. He found a mistake! I was sure it was not a mistake, but an obvious correction fluid on a corrected letter. Not obvious enough for me as it slipped my scrutiny.

"Repeat them all!"

He shouted as the papers flew into the air with him giving a blank, serious face, but to my eyes was the devil himself. He did it in front of everyone in the small office we were in. 

I was shocked, standing besides the table where the letters were placed. I felt as if he threw them to my face. Then he left as if nothing happened.

I could not move. It took others to shake me strong to wake me up from my worst dream. One even has to give me a slight slap on the face as I did not react.

"What happened?"

I asked everyone. Then I saw all the letters on the floor and splattered everywhere. I remembered then what had just happened.

Without a word to anyone, I went to grab my things and left the office, I did not come back again.

"Money. It was because of money that humans turned themselves into a devil."

I shook my head as I tried to whisk off that bad moment from my memory. I looked at the candles and settled my eyes to the yellow candle. 

"Yes. You, yellow. Just like a mayonnaise. You are a mixture of sweetness, like my officemates in those days, saltiness like how office work is sometimes, and spicy, just like those fiery devilish bosses one can unfortunately find."

I laughed at my thoughts and placed the yellow candle beside the red to lessen it's strong impact on my memories as it is beside red which is but love. 

To be continued...

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The Six Candles - Chapter 3

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The Six Candles - Chapter 1

 "Sweetheart, where are the candles?"

I shouted to my daughter who was busy preparing the decorations and the entire house for the birthday event.

"They are just right there in the secret drawer of the kitchen table where you are finishing the cake."

She responded loud enough for me to hear.

I searched for the candles and found them. Six different colored candles were inside the drawer. I smiled to myself with my daughter's sweet idea, though I did not understand why. 

There were yellow, blue, red, pink, green and violet. They were some of my most favorite colors. So I started to place them on the chocolate cake.

As the candles took their places on the cake, different moments have crossed my mind. I let them come in freely as they would not affect me anymore since they were of the past.

In my first ten years of life, I had come to know about money. I was given play money as a birthday gift from my parents.

Playing with those fake paper money was really fun in my childhood. With my brothers and sisters, we were given a lot of them to play with. 

The use and purpose of them were explained to us, without emphasizing they were fake. We were told that with money you could have everything that you want.

"That is great!"

Those were my words when my babysitter explained them for the first time.

I was six years old then and believe everything I was told, most of them coming from my own designated babysitter as my parents were just always busy, "looking for money" as my sweet old lady nanny used to say.

Then one day, I heard my parents shouting so loud at each other. It was already midnight. They woke me up. 

I went out of my room and walked some steps to theirs. Their bedroom door was a little bit opened and they did not realize I was there outside standing in my pyjamas, scrubbing my eyes.

"You should not have given them the money, because they don't know how to pay."

My mother was shouting to my father. 

"What are you talking about? They are relatives and they need money!"

The voice of my father was even louder when he responded. And the more it woke me up.

"Money! They need money!"

I said those words to myself.

My mind revealed to me the reason for their rare fighting. I have never heard them shouting out loud to each other. In front of me and my other two sisters and two brothers, they have always been civilized.

I ran back to my room and looked for the box of fake paper money I have collected. I have never ever seen what true money was. Whatever I needed, I had them and it had been my nanny who took care of everything. I just have to ask.

I bursted straight into my parent's room and handed them my box of money. They were so surprised and open-mouthed.

"Here Mom! Here Dad! You don't have to fight! I have saved these money. You can use them. Have them back!"

With rounded eyes and big smiles, I was offering them my help.

They stopped, looked at each other and at the same time, their stressed shoulders suddenly fell. 

My father looked the other way, through a window and my mother looked at me with a sad look but with sweet smiles. She came to hug me while nodding a bit and taking the money box from my hands.

"Thank you sweetheart. I am sorry we woke you up."

Without more words, she looked at my father who was then standing behind me as he walked away from near the window. 

He lifted me up in his arms. I felt happy, believing I have helped them to solve their problems. He carried me back to my bedroom.

As Dad tucked me under the bed sheets, he kissed my forehead and smiled.

"Good night sweetheart. I am sorry we woke you up."

Then he left turning off the light and closing the door.

That was all. The very first moment I understand the effect of money on people's lives.

To that memory, I put the color red for the love of my parents.

To be continued...

The Six Candles - Chapter 2

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

The End of the World? When?

Experts make their own calculations, studies and predictions or call it prophecies, whatever, of the end of the world. 

You, by reading the Bible, just like me, can also make your calculations. I did. Why not? So here, I will share with you.

My calculations? Well, call it my "guesses". 😎

Well, one convenient calculation is the year 2520. How? Read the Bible and study the numbers it contains. Another but less convenient year is 2150. Hmm. 😏 The most convenient year is 3360. Way too long from 2021!

But put in mind what the Lord Jesus has said:

And don't rejoice!

Remember, we, humans are guilty of destroying the creations of God! We can't just close our eyes, senses and reasoning to what we have done to this wonderful world and universe that God has given us.

Whatever is happening to us, all sufferings and more, I am sure is hurting God's heart as well. But we must remember what His Son has relayed to us. 

To us, humans, the end of the world is when we die. It can be at any moment, even before that asteroid announced by NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) agency of the United States that could impact the earth next year 2021, date and time included plus its equivalence to 150 bombs of Hiroshima. Technology is good, but sometimes terrorific as well, don't you think so?

Meantime, what are we supposed to do? How do we prepare? Do we have to? Of course.

I believe we have to prepare our soul. Our inner self. Our body would have to stay and be back into dust anyway. 

Preparing too includes knowing and learning about God. The Father Almighty, creator of Everything! How can we tell Him, "Recognize me" or "Remember me", if we don't even know who He is?

When it comes to committing sins, we keep sinning anyway. So we keep asking God's forgiveness. But, of course, we cannot fool God. Repentance must be sincere.

It seems we only have seven times a day permission to sin. Only? How many times are we supposed to sin in a day? 

Reading the Bible, here is what I come up with. I urge you to read and learn the Bible, so maybe you can figure it out better than I. 

What I try to show below is the process. The journey to reach God. To be qualified, maybe, to go to Heaven. 😊I call it my 7x7 Design. How about that? 😍

Now, the question is, our question to ourselves: In what part am I now? Am I ready for The End of The World?

Read The Bible (tap it to read the post)

"It is a mine of wealth, a paradise of glory, and a river of pleasure."

 

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

The Pen 3

 

Writing is like a moment's attack of ideas, thoughts and words on my brain that flows directly to my pen. Yes. I am an old-fashioned type. I use my precious Pen to write my drafts. That is why I honor it here, my best pen. 

This blog is my medium of sharing some creative short stories I have written.  I make it clear, creative. Creation from my own imaginative mind of stories that may seem ordinary, similar or whatever it can be for a reader. Some of them have already been shared in my Facebook page named Simple-Me. They are in video forms under the collection of The Writer Series. Here you'll find the complete series plus other intermission posts, and more,  if you are interested enough to follow.

I am The Pen😊

The same writer, author and creator as introduced in the following previous round of series.

 The Pen  

created  August 2, 2020

The Pen 2  

continued  November 1, 2020

Year 2021, 16th of January, the Round Three started with the post "Who is my neighbor?"

Round 3 is going to continue, not exactly with the series of  The Writer Series, but more.  The series, of course, will continue.

The Round One series have already been written a  year before The Pen was even created.

The Round Two were written during the year 2020, with pending series for The Writer Series 11, 13 and 15.

Read more about more in my welcome back address post:

R3 Introduction

The Round Three does not promise anything but to keep sharing and posting whenever possible.

So stay tuned for more, if you're interested enough to go on with me.

Thank you!

The Writer Series Title Guide

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

 

R3 Introduction

Welcome 2021! The Pen is coming back!

A new year has just started. May God bless 2021 for us!

The year that just passed has been horrible to us. The pandemic has affected our lives one way or another. But hope is seen in this new year!

Hope is the last thing we should never lose. God have mercy!

Without losing our sight to the truth, let us keep clinging to our hope in God. In Him we trust.

The Pen will come back with its Round Three of The Writer Series slowly and gradually. To be honest with you, what I called "my writing attacks" as referred to the continuation of the series have never happened again to me during my pause break. Strange! (at least to me). 

Neither did I put myself into dedicated writing anyway. I was giving myself a break, remember? And still, I am on a break. Pause. 😎

Other ideas have occurred to me.

First is to experiment writing in First Person with regards to my short stories, maybe essays too, under the classification E and A. Let us see later on where else.

In classification E, you shall find individual stories like The Deep Blue Sea and Ika of My Heart. What's coming to it is The Six Candles, which has Hating Money but Loving Chocolates as the original title I thought of, but it's too long for a title. It is not for sale, so it does not need a marketing strategy. Well, I'll put it anyway or maybe I'll change my mind. Let us see.

Second, I might include previous years written materials in my posts. You see, I have been writing for years. They were saved in my other Google accounts and bbayonito20 is my latest one.

Third, the continuation of the series under The Writer Series will continue gradually. 

As a new idea to continue comes into mind,  I write then share it with you. They will not come out in order, just like how it happened in Round Two.

With Google statistics, I can see which series has the most readers. Hopefully ideas to them come to me first. But that's not always the case.

From Round Two, I still have to continue The Writer Series 11, 13 and 15. Up to now, Gabriel has not come to wake me up! 😂

Who is Gabriel? How come you don't know? He was part of a series, remember?

However, if ideas come to mind for the Round Three continuation of the other series, they will come out first than the pending previously mentioned series.

Actually, The Pen 3 has already started with "Who is my neighbor?" under The Good Book Says. 

So there we are, my Dear Readers! Welcome Back!

 Inviting you to:

Facebook Page - Simple - Me

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