Saturday, June 30, 2012

Save A Life, Save A Dream


Save a life, save a dream. This is one of the things I hope would come true for a dear friend and brother.

Charles Ansibey has been a part of my life in one way or the other and I want it still to be so. The times I met him as a Supreme Student Government President and as a student has never left my mind. Senior’s Day as a guest speaker for the batch and seeing him so well and healthy has never failed my memory. The time I’ve been brushing elbows and rubbing shoulders with him has never felt a bit tiring or even boring. Charles has this kind of countenance that brings out the best in him, the leader in him, the brotherly care in him, the strength in him. I’ve met Charles lots of times but the best part of it all was seeing him so full of energy and healthy. I haven’t seen him of late but from the stories I hear from his co-batchmates and some friends of mine, tears threatened to fall. I never was so shocked when I heard from Sir Caligtan. It never came to mind that a child that strong and healthy could suddenly be diagnosed of leukemia, cancer of the blood. That’s what’s most disconcerting. A healthy and strong child suddenly diagnosed of leukemia months after he graduated from high school. What hurts the most is that nothing or no one had ever suspected that he is sick. As the pathophysiology of cancer, particularly of the blood, is most concerned, I damn well could say ‘Cancer is really a bitch!’

In this regard, I have been fervently trying to track Charles to the point of sending messages to my friends who were already nurses at Saint Luke’s just so I could be updated with his health and everything; and thus relay the information to those concerned and ask for help. Though I failed to reach him as he already was discharged, I kept praying for him that he would keep his faith and keep believing, that he'd stay strong and that the Lord God give him more strength and make him heal and be well.

I therefore would ardently want to ask my dear readers to please help us in collecting any amount in order for us to help Charles with his 6 cycles of chemotherapy and hospital bills. I am asking everyone to please help Charles heal; and thus, save his dream of becoming a successful person one day. That dream, I’ve lifted off a page from their yearbook at Sagada National High School of which I’ll attach with this plea for help. I do hope that this post would move your hearts and open doors of helpfulness and mercy and lend us a hand in sourcing out funds for Charles’ chemotherapy sessions, hospital bills, and other medical expenses. So, what are you waiting for? Help us save a life and save a dream!































Please feel free to contact us through the numbers and e-mail address specified above. or you can visit our Facebook page. For more relevant information about Charles and donation drives or calls for help, please visit Christian Aligo's appeal to help Leukemia patient Charles.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Royale: The Anniversary Experience


There. I’ve dreamed it. I’ve seen it. I’ve experienced it. I’ve been in it. I’ve been a part of it. And now, I’ll be it.

Just last Sunday, I’ve had the opportunity to be a part of one of the most surreal experiences I’ve ever had in my life. A dream come true. One of the dreams that had turned into reality. Yes, I wasn’t on stage like Sir Yosie Saraniogon or my mentor Sir Junatz Estacio or our Supremo Sir Adrian Alebin but I felt as if it was I in the limelight. Once or twice, I gave my best pose as the cameras flashed and put on my best smile and brandished a beauty queen wave as the video cameras grazed the lower box seats to where I and some of the Dreamteam Jr. Spartans were perched. My heart thudded to the reverberating beat of the drums. A lot of times, I’ve screamed at the top of my lungs, drowned by the thundering yells and boisterous bawls of my seatmates and by the echoing ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Aaahs’ of our guests. A few other times, I rose to my feet and jumped (imagine that!) for joy as people around me clapped their hands and made a cacophony of noises that were caterwauling as well. Yes, I’m not one of the proclaimed winners, but being a Royalista, I for one am already a winner.

Having Sir Junatz and Ma’am Che behind me, cheering on, I’ve realized a lot of things. As I stepped into the portals of Royale Business Club-Baguio, I took a deep breath, sucked in the air, and closed my eyes. This is my new family. No regrets. This is my stepping-stone to better living, a better life for my family. I readily knew that I had more than my own fate in my hands. I’d have to be driven to lead, driven to excel, and driven to serve. These I learned just by being around Sir Junatz and Ma’am Che, and of course my fellow Royalistas. The challenge now lies in my hands. I’ll have fantastic tumbles across, I know, but then I’ll emerge victorious as I learn things along the way. That’s a promise I made to myself.

I’ve always thought joining Royale Business Club was going to be somewhat of a part-time job, something that would only cater to and purge the doubts people around me are eliciting in addition to my desires of having to socialize and communicate with others and my ultimate desire to improve my family’s socio-economic status. I never thought that it would make me feel this way – above the clouds. Watching all the testimonies of those who had made their dreams come true has heightened my desires of not just having a support system but also rather aiming to stand on stage and also testify that, “I made it. All my hopes and dreams have come true. You’re next.”  As one person after the other had their VTRs up on the screen and as they came up on stage in person to testify, I got more and more enlivened and exhilarated. Now I realize what Up Junatz really meant by dragging me to all the supposedly previous trainings I had to attend. Royale Business Club’s 6th Anniversary was the inception of all trainings and the foundation of many more activities and events for the year and the years to come.

Until this day, I couldn’t get that astounding and incredible feeling out of my system. The experience was phenomenal and mind-blowing. I’ve gone crazy. I’m out of my wits. I’m mental. I’m at the verge of falling into a realm which I haven’t encountered before – a mysterious and deeper realm posing challenges and escapades encumbered with unending dreams, everlasting hopes, undying beliefs, unyielding faith, and inviolable trust towards people around no other than my fellow Royalistas. Yes, this is just the beginning. The best is yet to come! Dahil dito sa Royale, payaman ka!

And for that, I thank the Lord God for guiding me through this unforgettable life journey and for getting us safely to SM Mall of Asia Arena for the event, my mentor Junatz for his perseverance and for giving me this great opportunity to be a part of Turbocharged Jr Spartans, my mentor Ate Che for patiently coordinating and being so understanding, Tito Boyet and Tita Loui as with Tito Noli for the positive response and for the ride, Pia, Ate Mai and Ate Annie for the camaraderie, and for every other Royalista who in one way or another has helped me in this venture. Mabuhay kayong lahat! God bless!

(To be continued…)


Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Remembering my Dad, Robert 'Bravo' Bacayan Capuyan: A Father's Day Special


I thought of you with love today but that is nothing new
Living up there in Heaven a handsome angel are you
Oh, Daddy if I only knew
Verily I would have told you that I’ll miss you too
Every hour every minute every moment every day
You are the perfect dad, the best in any way
Oh Daddy if I only knew the day you passed away
Unshed tears, untold words I should have fired away
Daddy, I love you, I know that much is true
And now in His keeping, God has embraced you
Daddy, I miss you, the days are so blue
Daddy, all I have is memories of you and your picture in a frame
You may be gone from this world but I love you all the same.

Robert ‘Bravo’ B. Capuyan – a name that stridently screams ‘DAD’. I was a wee bit of a bundle of diapers and I knew Dad had always been there for me. I’ve glanced at pictures of me evidently cuddled in his arms, of him blatantly rocking me to sleep, of him palpably feeding me. Dad had been to me a mother and father rolled into one just as Mom is these days. Stories I heard from my mother made alligator tears inch down my cheeks as I imagine how Dad had single-handedly taken care of us every single day as Ma was teaching in school, also painstakingly working hard for our future – the now. It is impossible to speak of my father without also speaking of my mother, because they were one. Together, they showed me what true love was like, taught me what a marriage should be. And Dad loved us all more than he loved himself. When it became too hard for him to live on, the pain that was the greatest for him was never his own, but rather the pain that he saw in us.


With Dad, Lynette and Lyan

My father was one of those curious, intuitive and logical fathers who are always fiddling with even the smallest of things. He was the most tenacious person I knew. Ferocious, focused, and fueled by a need to be his own man, which he accomplished in countless ways until the very end. He was not a carpenter but he could restore a dilapidated doghouse or build a chicken coop from scratch and other things that needed revamping. He was not an architect or an engineer but he helped plan and oversee the construction of Grandma Basali’s house in Dao-angan. He was not a mechanical engineer but he was so adept at fixing car troubles. He was not a chef but he could cook a scrumptious meal that would have your growling stomach shut up with elated satisfaction and a surreal experience. He was not a blacksmith but he could get anything metal and iron, shining and razor sharp. He was not a dressmaker or a tailor but he could stitch the worn out clothes of my dolls and stuffed toys. He was not a teacher but he taught us how to spell, read and write among other things like what is right and what is wrong. He was not a dictionary but he had lots of words up his sleeve. He was not a doctor but he could kiss away the pain from having my knees and elbows scathed. He was not a nurse but he gave us his tender, loving care. He was not Superman or Batman or Spiderman but he was and still is my hero. A lot of things he was not; but more than anything else, he was my Dad.

So much goes into that simple statement. He was the example I looked up to. He was my friend and was sometimes my enemy. He was my mentor and protector. He showed me what life was all about, and he showed me at a very young age. I used to fear him for being austere but I never thought he was already teaching me one of the most valuable lessons in life – standing up for what you believe in. I learned and understood a lot of things as I grew up in his care. I learned that the most important thing he had was us, his family. Though he may never had said it out loud, I know that he was really proud of what we have become. We are who we are now because we had a father like him. My father never showed his feelings. You would only see that look that told you that you did something great, and seeing him like that made you feel like you owned the world. That’s the way Dad was. He was intuitive. He somehow knew what to say and what to do, even in those times when you had not spoken. And though he knew what to say, in so many ways, he was a man of few words. You could always count on one important thing, though. Whatever he said, though the words were not expansive, they were the right words.
One big happy family... Luke was still under construction... hehehe... :D
Daddy was an angel long before he died. He was very strict as a father but that’s only because he cared for us and loved us. He was a very kind person and was always ready to help. He always had a solution to every problem and had his ways of making things simple. He never asked anybody for help but he was a very generous man, and he never wanted to be acknowledged for anything he did. When he helped, he simply helped. Dad was a strong and proud man. Quiet and reserved as well. You’d probably be surprised to know that his artistic ability was marvelous. I used to ask him to draw my art projects for me when I was a kid. He’d usually do these for me but then he would tell me to try drawing them on my own or otherwise he’d show me how it’s done. This artistic ability was not necessarily a trait that he displayed to his friends – he came from a time where art was not always the way to survive.

Happy and contented children
forebodes a happy and content family.
Thanks Mom! Thanks, Dad!
Love. That’s what always prevailed and the only way to survive. I never doubted that he loved me. Even at times when he came home late drowned in alcohol, seething and smoldering in cigarette smoke, I never doubted his love for us. No, my father was not perfect, but who in this world is? He was, however, a warrior... a jack-of-all-trades... a hero… a man of integrity and dignity... and for that, I am forever grateful. And I never doubted my father’s love.

With each spoon he fed us, with each shoelace he tied, with each bathwater he heated, with each shampoo and soap he lathered us with, with each caress he gave us, with each tear he shed for us, with each fishing pole he'd taught us how to cast, with each picnic in Danum Lake he'd prepared for us, with each smile, camera in hand, as we opened our Christmas gifts with much anticipation, with each ribbon he pinned and each medal he hung on our necks, with each and every little thing he did for us, he showed us how much he loved us. The tender and loving care he showed us was for me, more than enough to cover up and make up for all his imperfections. He may be an alcoholic and a smoker but he never ever failed to be a loving father and faithful husband. It may have been too hard for him to change his ways but he managed to do away from alcohol and cigarettes. I’ve seen how difficult it was for him but because of his love for Mom and us, his three daughters and a son, he’d succeeded. That is the greatest gift that a father can give to his family – love.

I miss you so much, Daddy. This world may forget that you ever lived but I will forever cherish your memories and would always remember that you have lived a fulfilling and dignified life. Daddy, to me, you are not dead. You will never die. Because I know that in my heart, you still live. I know that every hand you shook, every cheek you’ve pecked, every tear you’ve wiped away, every shoulder you’ve cried on, every arm you’ve brushed gave life to your own memories; that you still live in everyone who ever knew you. This I’m sure of, Dad – you will be dearly missed and your memories treasured, safely kept and locked in our hearts. I love you, Daddy! Happy Father's Day!


Friday, February 24, 2012

Remembering Grandma Basali


Gone forever yet her memories linger
Right in my heart she dwells; I’ll always remember
All the days she’d lived, her love and care so tender
No matter who, no matter what, no matter wherever
Discerned the good in everyone she’d encounter
My heart falters to get the drift she’s not here
A star from the sky, she’s watching, however.

Basali, a name I ne’er would ever forget
All times with her so worthwhile spent
Sitting by the fireplace up in heaven she’d be
A beautiful angel watching over you and me
Lola’s hug, a mother’s love, or a sister’s kiss
I wish she was here ‘coz we all these miss.

It’s been a year since Grandma Basali passed away but she was always in my mind every single moment from the day she did. I’ve come to know what it really meant when people say ‘you never know how important that person is until he or she’s gone’. That’s how it feels when you love someone so much but then in an instant, they would be gone forever.

There haven’t been much time spent between my grandmother and I when I was a child, for as long as I could remember, but I do believe that my grandmother was and will always be a woman of the world — a caring and protective mother, an industrious and responsible daughter, a generous and loving grandmother, a no-holds-barred and compassionate aunt, a giving and forgiving sister, a motivating and understanding relative, a dependable and respectful in-law, a trusted and trusting friend.

Yes, that’s what the name Rosaria ‘Basali’ Naoy Capuyan holds. She may be petite but to me, she held the world at her hands. That said, I know of one thing (which my mother and father relayed to us when we were young). Grandma Basali was never one to shy away from ominous rumblings of danger or crumble down when storms of challenges rush past her. She was never one to back down. She was never a person to think of herself first before others. Never selfish. Never one to cower when bolts of obstacles strike from the heavens. Instead, she braved every raging storm, every bullet of trouble, every downpour which brought danger to her loved ones. My grandmother was that strong – a superhero in my own squinty inscrutable eyes.

I know how hard it can be saying goodbye. I’ve been through that a dozen times before. My dad, my manung Caryl, my manung Doclan, my friend Darwin, my Uncle Greg, my Uncle Rudy, my uncle Jesus, my uncle Steve, half a dozen other people I’ve come to love, and now Grandma. But I’ve never thought of them dead. Because I know that in my heart, they all still live. They’re not dead because I know that every hand they touched, every cheek they’ve pecked, every tear they’ve wiped away, every shoulder they’ve cried on, every arm they’ve brushed gave life to their memories; that they all still live in everyone who knows them.

But never again will I hear my grandma’s voice. Never again will I see those beautiful 'bolinawan' eyes. Never again will I see her get out of her seat and brave to crawl the downward path to the pigpen to feed the pigs and crawl right back up to the house while weeding. Never again will I see her hunched down uprooting my Uncle Tim's freshly planted flowers. Never again will I see her talking to the ‘seemingly moving’ images on a magazine. Lots of things I will never ever see again except when I reel back to back when. I know that she will be dearly missed and her memories never forgotten.

Grandma, the greatest reward in my life is knowing you. Nothing in the world could ever replace one second of the time I was lucky enough to spend with you. God had a special plan for you, Grandma. I think He knew that Heaven couldn't ever really be Heaven without you. I love you and cherish you with all my heart. I see you in the sunshine and I feel your presence in every warm breeze. As you sit now upon puffy clouds set against blue summer skies, keep watching over us. You are still with us all.

I hope that someday when I am able to pay the debt that all men pay, Grandma would be there standing beside St. Peter, my father, Uncle Rudy, Uncle Greg, Uncle Steve and Uncle Jesus, smiling, reaching out her hand to me and welcoming me to enter those ever-famous Pearly Gates. 

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Feb 14: Just Another Day of Love


It’s once again the middle of February and a gust of romantic breeze brushes past every nook and cranny. Candle-lit dinners, bouquets of red roses cradled in the arms of ladies, kisses splattered on every gentleman’s cheek, great big hugs and a kiss from friend to friend, melted chocolates mustached on sweet-toothed couples, families praying together and staying together, romantic dates among lovers – love is definitely in the air!

February 14, just like any other day, is a special day. Some may think that it’s a special day for single people to go out and meet other single people. Some think of Valentine’s Day as a day to ‘mourn’ their single life. Some are reminded during Valentine’s day that they don’t have anyone beside them to honor love. But isn’t love supposed to be in the air every single day as well? A lot of people think that Valentine’s day is just for couples, for lovers, for married people. Well, I beg to disagree. It doesn’t mean that if you don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend, a husband or wife, that you are not able to celebrate Valentine’s day. Every single one of us have our own little ways of celebrating Valentine’s day regardless of our civil status. Lovers and couples may most benefit from Valentine’s day but it is also a special day for single and unmarried people. I’m single but am contented enough with how I spend my Valentine’s Day.

Valentine’s Day is just like Christmas Day – giving gifts and exchanging cards. It’s like birthdays as well. It’s just like any other day in the lunar or roman calendar or Chinese calendar or whatever calendar you may think of. You may think I’m bitter but I’m just stating a fact – that February 14 is just like any other day. But what’s really special about Valentine’s day is that this is the chance, the opportunity, to remind your loved ones that they are loved, that they are cared for, that they are kept your hearts 365 or 366 days a year. This is the chance to make up for all your wrongdoings and shortcomings. This is an opportunity to truly, madly, deeply tell your loved ones how you feel about them. Of course, one could do just that any other day but Feb 14 is a big day where you could kind of tell the whole world ‘officially’ of the love you share with others.

I’m not an expert when it comes to love but I could tell you much when it comes to sharing the love and caring for other people. I’m not much of a city girl but I’ve come to love the urban life during my university schooling. I admit I’m a country girl – far away from the huzzle-buzzle of the city life, the smoke-belching jeepneys, the highway traffic, the irritating hammering and grinding from nearby construction sites. I’ve come to love the city because I realized that although my hometown Sagada is far from economic progress and development than that of Baguio City, I saw that Sagada had no problems such as peddlers, beggars and stow-away children with their ragged and tattered clothes running about. My hometown had not much problems as drugs, murders, homicides, car crashes and other gruesome events that I’ve witnessed in the city. It was the tranquility of my hometown which led me to a realization that I could do more in the city than that of my hometown. For every Valentine’s day for my five long years in the city, I’ve come to spend some time not with a boyfriend (as I didn’t even have one for that matter J) but with strangers I meet on my way home or any where I go. I still remember that I’ve spent my first Valentine’s Day in the city by walking around the city with friends (also single) and dropping coins in the palms of arm-stretched beggars along overpasses and along Session Road.

I could never forget February 14, 2006 because I’ve accomplished something that was to me, a great thing. This was my first Valentine’s Day during my college life. I’m never one to just give money away since my family is having financial difficulties as any other Filipino family in the country and I’ve come to experience how hard it is to earn money on my own. But right when I looked at the state of one of the beggars along the Magsaysay overpass, a woman with ragged and greasy clothes and mouth watering upon seeing my half-eaten Dunkin’ Donut Strawberry-filled Bavarian donut, I felt something tug at my heart. I did not eat the whole day since it was our practicum in Anatomy and Physiology and I’m never one to eat when I’m nervous or else I’d keep visiting the comfort room. So my stomach was wrenching in hunger but I stopped in front of her, smiled, and handed the donut over to the poor woman. She eagerly took that half-eaten donut, hung her head and cried. That day, I’ve promised myself I’d be more gracious and giving for there are much more unfortunate people than I am. I’ve done that through dropping every spare change I could to beggars I meet along the way. From that day on, I never complained I have not enough allowance and never wasted even a rotting piece of tomato. I just had to chop off the rotting portion and make do with the good one. That’s love.

February 14, 2007 was also memorable to me. With our nursing concepts and theories easier and understandable as we go through every lesson, I’ve come to realize from one point in our lesson that it’s good for the body to also donate blood. That’s what I did when we had the opportunity to volunteer for a blood donation at the Red Cross. For the first time in my life, I’ve been punctured with a large-bore needle since I’ve never been hooked to dextroses and the like in my childhood and during my secondary schooling. I wanted to back out the moment one of the medical technologists held up a 2-inch needle approximately 2mm in diameter. I was profusely sweating by the time he came at me. But his calm and soothing voice misled my fear into something much more satisfying – the realization that I was helping someone else out there who needed a blood transfusion. Type O+ may be the most abundant blood type among people and also may be the universal donor but you may never know. Someone out there needs that 500ml of blood. That may just be 500ml of my 5.6 liters of blood but that feeling of relief, satisfaction, happiness and accomplishment never went away. That’s love.

The next Valentine’s Day, it was year 2008, my groupmates and I (K4) with our clinical instructor were in Cadtay, Kapangan for our regular duty for community work. It may be a hassle for some of my group mates since they had set appointments for their Valentine’s Day dates but I was happy to have spent that special day with the people of Cadtay, Kapangan. For that day, we’ve set up something that the community people would enjoy. We chucked in some of our allowance for the game prizes and for the preparation of our cause. We arranged for a dance-for-all at night, invited some of the neighboring barangays, and had fun that day. At least for a day during that week, the people had rested their weary bodies and limp limbs from going to the farm or fields which you’d not believe how far it is from their houses. My gosh! Just remembering those times we’ve visited the residents in their homes and the fields make my legs cramp, shake and ache so much. But at least just for that day, we’ve been there to help them relax and experience something they enjoy with us, strangers but to them a new-found family. That’s love.

February 14, 2009 was a really special day for me. My friends and I, single or otherwise had fun during our group date. That was the very first date I’ve had again in about 5 years – with friends whom I’ve come to love so much. We went bar hopping, drinking, singing, and even dancing. I’ve not had so much fun like this for a long time since we graduated from high school. A mother of one of my friends even gave each of us Goldilocks polvoron packages. Yum, yum, yum! My friend and her mom is really, really thoughtful and sweet. Taking time to spend a special day with the people you care about, that’s love.

February 14 was one of the special days during the year 2010 which I always could recall. That was the day I first worked as a freelance writer online. All thanks to my boss, Seif, I had a part-time job submitting news articles in his own website. I got paid 50 dollars that same week. I’ve worked, got paid and now I had something to spend for the upcoming Panagbenga street dancing and float parade with my friends. That was one Valentine’s Day where I accomplished something not for anyone else but for myself. That’s love.

It was then February 14, 2011. I’ve started working on my high school alma mater’s weblog page as a gesture of gratitude for all the things I’ve learned from the teachers and students, and for taking great good care of the students’ priorities and education. Sagada National High School had been to me a home I’d always treasure and love. My experience during my four years of stay in this school inspired me to become even more successful in college. All the hardships the school had gone through while I was in its midst, all the challenges we’ve had as students, all the laughter and tears – all these things inspired me much and made me into who I am today. I’ve created the website as a tribute and thank you to the school for all its accomplishments and developments. That’s love.

It’s now the year of our Lord 2012 and again February 14. It’s time to share some love once again so here I am sharing all of you my love and greetings through this manuscript. I’ve shared my experiences and all the things I’ve thought was trivial but then to the persons I’ve helped and been with those past Valentine’s Days accordingly had been great no matter how trivial they had been. I’ve never even thought much about all those small things I did until a stranger approached me as I was giving my left-over KFC chicken drumstick to one of the street children who was tossing and holding her stomach in pain. He gave me a pat on the back and told me that what I did to the child was award-winning if ever he’d had the chance to present me with a plaque. He further told me that there was one less hungry child in the world. That phrase kept playing like a broken record in my mind – one less hungry child in the world. I thought to myself that what I’ve done was nothing at all. I couldn’t even help the others. I hadn’t realized much what Mr. Stranger meant until I got home, sat down, and sighed as the phrase kept playing in my mind. That was when it hit me. I did a great thing. With that one piece of chicken from KFC Session, I’ve fed one of the billions of hungry and homeless children in the world. I cried that night. That’s love.

And with me sharing all of you a piece of my life where all the people of the Philippines are protagonists, that’s how I show my love to you all. I hope that with this, you’d also realize that no matter how trivial, no matter how small, no matter how unimportant things are to you, to some people those things you deem unimportant and trivial are great big things to have and share. So, man up! Share some love this Valentine’s Day. Send someone a post card or a greeting card or anything you’d think of to show some love. Remember that it’s always the thought that counts, and not the amount or value of the things you give.

But wait, there’s more… The biggest realization I had as I was writing this manuscript was that for all those years I’ve spent on every Valentine’s Day, I never had someone I’m supposed to call my ‘The One’ to spend it with. Haaaaaayyyzzzzzzzz! Might as well spend it next Valentine’s Day watching movies of Jet Li. He might be the one. :D Hehehe….

Monday, February 13, 2012

Valentine’s Day: How It All Began


Through the years, this day of Valentine has seen a lot. From ancient martyrs to modern-day romantics, Valentine's Day has always been an eventful day for most. As we passionately give gifts, or wait for them, let us delve a little deeper and find out the history behind this day of love.

Flowers, chocolates, heart-shaped outlines, greeting cards, doves, and the figure of the winged Cupid – this is just part of a bigger picture. We do know that February has long been celebrated as a month of romance, and that St. Valentine's Day, as we know it today, contains vestiges of both Western and Eastern traditions. Families dining out, friends roaming streets, couples holding hands, lovers locked in a kiss, people blind-dating, strangers getting together, children playing and laughing about – loving, caring, hoping.

But behind these romantic scenes are images of a gruesome past – lots of blood, so red, so bloody red. Valentine’s Day is said to be commemorated all in the name of atleast three different martyred saints named Valentine – Valentine of Rome, Valentine of Terni and the Catholic Encyclopedia also speaks of a third saint named Valentine of Alexandria who was mentioned in early martyrologies under date of February 14. There has always been a big confusion as to who exactly was St. Valentine. History talks about three people, the Roman saint Valentine who was a bishop, Valentine of Terni and Valentine of Alexandria who is better known as Valentinus, who were martyred on the very day (i.e., 14th February) for committing the sin of 'spreading love'.

All three have died in the name of love. Valentine of Rome was a priest who defied Emperor Claudius II and continued to perform marriages in secret. Claudius decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine of Rome was thrown in prison and later on put to death when his actions were discovered. During his stay in jail, the young people of Rome, who threw flowers and notes through his prison window, visited him. These people wanted him to know that they, too, believed in love. One of them was the daughter of the prison guard. Her father allowed her to visit Valentine of Rome in his cell and they sat and talked for hours. She kept his spirits up and agreed that Valentine had done the right thing by ignoring Emperor Claudius and pushing through with the secret marriages. On the day of his death, Valentine left her a note signed, ‘Love from your Valentine’.

A similar story revolves around Valentine of Terni. Noted evangelist, miracle worker and healer, he was much loved by his flock. It is said that he was devoted to the cause of spreading the message of love and forgiveness among people and is known to have mystical powers. He could heal wounds and cure incurable diseases miraculously. He was considered the messenger of God. However, at that time Christianity was not the accepted religion and Christians were prosecuted. Hence, this saintly man was beheaded for his faith and beliefs. He was imprisoned, tortured, and beheaded by order of the prefect Placid Furius during the persecution of Aurelius. He was murdered in secret and at night to avoid riots and revenge by the people of Terni.

Valentine of Alexandria on the other hand, believed in spiritual love. He said that there are three kinds of people, spiritual, psychical and material, and those who were of the first kind (i.e., spiritual) were blessed with the knowledge (or gnosis). Therefore, spirituality can alone lead a man to his salvation. He also preached the importance of marriage, however, it clashed with the growing asceticism of Christian thought. There have been churches dedicated to Valentine of Alexandria and his disciples spread his message of love to date.

While some believed that Valentine’s Day is celebrated in the middle of February to commemorate Saint Valentine’s death, others claim that the Christian church may have decided to place St. Valentine's feast day in the middle of February in an effort to "Christianize" the pagan celebration of Lupercalia. Celebrated at the ides of February, or February 15, Lupercalia was a fertility festival dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as to the Roman founders Romulus and Remus.

To begin the festival, members of the Luperci, an order of Roman priests, would gather at a sacred cave where the infants Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were believed to have been cared for by a she-wolf or lupa. The priests would sacrifice a goat, for fertility, and a dog, for purification. They would then strip the goat's hide into strips, dip them into the sacrificial blood and take to the streets, gently slapping both women and crop fields with the goat hide. Far from being fearful, Roman women welcomed the touch of the hides because it was believed to make them more fertile in the coming year. Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big urn. The city's bachelors would each choose a name and become paired for the year with his chosen woman. These matches often ended in marriage.

While sending cards, flowers, chocolates, and other gifts is traditional in the Philippines and other countries around the world, Valentine’s Day has various local customs. We all have heard the phrase ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve, but the phrase has actually come from Middle ages, when according to a popular tradition, young men and women would draw chits from a bowl, to know the names of their valentines and then, would wear that name on their sleeve for the entire week.

Hundreds of years ago in England, many children dressed up as adults on Valentine's Day. They went singing from home to home. One verse they sang was:
Good morning to you, valentine;
Curl your locks as I do mine ---
Two before and three behind.
Good morning to you, valentine

In Wales wooden love spoons were carved and given as gifts on February 14th. Hearts, keys and keyholes were favourite decorations on the spoons. The decoration meant, "You unlock my heart!"

In some countries, a young woman may receive a gift of clothing from a young man. If she keeps the gift, it means she will marry him.

Some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. If she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire.

Think of five or six names of boys or girls you might marry, As you twist the stem of an apple, recite the names until the stem comes off. You will marry the person whose name you were saying when the stem fell off.

A day for the celebration of love is what Valentine is. In the hustle-bustle, we must not forget this small, yet, important fact. A relationship survives on the pillars of love and trust. We celebrate this day to remind ourselves how much we need the people we love and what role they play in our lives. Therefore, let us celebrate this day for those who stood by us through thick and thin, for those who willingly accept us for what we are and for those, who have faith in us.

This entire aspect of defiance for love of which the three Valentines showed connects the history of the modern Valentine’s day to bravery or "valor". The color red is associated to the bloodshed which occurred all in the name of love. Now, every year on this day, people remember. But most importantly, they think about love and friendship. And when they think of Emperor Claudius, Order of Prefect Placid Furius, and all those who persecuted the three saints, people remember how these persecutors tried to stand in the way of love, and the people laugh – because they know that love can't be beaten!

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