
My father was a chained smoker and drunkard; he usually went home drunk and had his hand a stick of cigarette. But He is a good father of nine. One night he went home drunk and slept at the balcony of our house. Early morning around 2 am my mother called him to transfer to their room. He called my father several times and found out that my father was attacked by stupor. His body was frozen and my mother shouted for help. She ran to call our neighbors for help and we’re all awake, other called the ambulance and some tried to recover him from the attack. My siblings were crying and they’re all worried what might happen. With all despair and belief I knelt down at the altar and cried. I uttered a prayer OUR FATHER because that’s all I know at my young age of seven. After my sincere prayers with tears rolling down my face my heart felt relaxed and comfort. I saw the image of Mama Mary carrying the baby Jesus at the altar. I smiled and said “thank you Lord and Mama Mary”. I came down after praying and saw my father very much ok and seemed like nothing happens. My father said don’t bring me to the hospital were in fact everything was ready. My mama said he was given a second chance to live because of my prayers. Then he was changed. Many months have passed he began smoking again but he quits drinking, we were growing old and I was 21 years old. My father keeps on encouraging us to work hard so that we will never experienced the life that we had if we had our own family.
One day while I was attending the Sunday Mass there’s something enveloping in my heart. Right after the mass was ended I received a call that my father was rushed to the hospital. I was afraid; I hurriedly went to visit my father, I asked him what happened? He said I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe. If only I could sleep then it will be fine. There’s nothing to worry. Hours have passed the doctor came and told my mom that he needs to be transferred to the ICU. Then he told my mom that my fathers’ lungs were totally damaged with nicotine. It was a horror for me to see those things inserted in my fathers’ mouth, I almost cried when I saw that there were blood running on the tube while they tried to put in it on his mouth. He suffered too much pain I can feel it. My mother was shaking what she saw. I tried to keep her away but she preferred to stay and watched my dad till his last time. She’s going crazy, she laughs, she cries, shes talking about their past everything and it hurts me looking at her. She keeps on calling his name. I almost cried but I keep on fighting from showing my emotion because of my mom. I pretend to be strong. I knew this is worst so I called a priest. His heartbeats getting slower, when the priest arrived we started to pray over him. Then after the priest put a sign of the cross on his forehead He gave up. I said to myself, “Papa” your journey on earth ends here don’t worry about Mama, then I cried I can’t help it anymore. I hugged my mother tightly. I prayed “Papa” be safe Jesus loves you.




















