PAYING IT FORWARD

He was very dear to me, and he was sick.

Nobody knew what it was. Even the doctors at the U.P. Infirmary were baffled.

He thought it might've been an insect bite. Whatever it was, the skin on his leg was getting worse. The doctors suggested it might be cellulitis, and sent him to St. Luke's Medical Center for further tests.

He ended up staying for about a week. I visited him as often as I could.

His wife was at his side for the duration of his confinement, missing work at the U.P. Islamic Center. This didn't come as a surprise. She was particularly devoted to him.

I could see that she loved him very much. I honestly thought she was one of the best things that ever happened to him. She was kind and gentle and very patient. And she took very good care of him.

I visited him on his last day at the hospital. He was in good spirits, happy to be going home again. I could see the relief in his wife's face as well.

I secretly wondered how much this hospital stay was costing them. I knew it must have been a considerable sum. St. Luke's was one of the best and most modern hospitals in the Philippines, and it certainly didn't come cheap.

Yet they weren't rich. Both of them worked for a living because they had to.

I knew they must be scrambling for any means to help pay the bill, but they never once brought up the subject of money to me. I also knew that of all the people in their inner circle, I was in a better position than most to be of any help.

I gently asked how much money was owed. She gave me a nervous smile, almost reluctantly admitting they were fifty thousand short.

I went out of the room to make a phone call. And then I wrote St. Luke's Medical Center a check for fifty thousand pesos. It wasn't a debt, it was a gift.

She smiled her shy smile and held me close, her voice breaking as she thanked me.

I could see he was touched too, and that was enough for me.



Six years later, I was the one in dire straits.

My husband had just lost his job. We were relying on our savings to tide us over, and they were dangerously getting depleted.

But despite our financial worries, we were still rich in love and blessings. Indeed, during our darkest moments, The Lord would always help us clear the hurdles somehow.

And then two people very dear to us came to visit. We sorely missed the presence of another to make us complete, but she was unable to make it from the Philippines.

Nevertheless, she sent some money over, not just to my kids (who were her godchildren), but to me as well.

And when the others told her of my financial situation, she went ahead and sent me a thousand dollars more. Just like that. I was touched at her kindness.



I never asked her for money. I don't even remember mentioning any of my problems to her when we spoke on the phone.

The irony of it all didn't escape me. While most of my kababayans sent money back to their families in the Philippines, here I was, one of the few exceptions where the opposite was true.

I could only see it as a gift from The Lord. And she was the vessel He used to deliver it.

Just like He chose to use me on that day, more than six years back.


(To YOU...you know who you are...thank you so much for your kind and selfless gesture, which meant so much to me and my family. And to YOU, who helped, using your own money to send it via Western Union, our sincerest thanks as well.

I love you guys so much. R.)