LOVING TOUCHES – MORE THAN SOLAR ENERGY
“Yet it is you who brought me out of the womb and kept me safe at my mother’s breast. I have been yours since I was born; you are my God from my mother’s womb.”
(Psalm 22:10-11)
I inherited father’s poor health. My sisters used to tease me that I was almost undependable in household chores. If I washed even just a handkerchief, I would surely get sick the next day. Oh no, I am not exaggerating! One time this really happened. And I also did suffer from monthly fevers. The fever came in time with my monthly visits. During these sick days, I felt the most loving touches of my family. Well, I couldn’t expect much when I had no fever. I have four more brothers and four more sisters that have to be looked after also! But yes, I felt special during sick days. And maybe God allowed me to be sick often because He wanted me to feel the love of my family in many ways.
Father was almost a nervous wreck when one of us got sick. He would separate the plates, spoon and fork of the sick person. Later I would understand why. He was very prudent that no one gets contaminated because there was no money to pay for the doctor’s fee and the medicines. Sometimes my father would take the role of a ‘diagnostic physician’ and would prescribe medicines. He also read medical books! I used to wonder how he does this trade. He gets my pulse rate and suddenly smilingly utters, “You have no more fever”. Or at times, his face turned anxious when the fever would not leave. We were usual clients of the free health center. When we were not strong enough to be brought to the center, a doctor came in to diagnose and would not charge anything. Mother literally begged from benefactors during these times. Medicines were not affordable. My parents regarded all these human provisions as Divine Providence at work. Later, I came to realize that faith and love had so much to do with healing.
Being sick gave me much advantage. Mother tenderly gave me a sponge bath. Father’s mother was usually around to take turns with mother. I couldn’t forget her loving touches. She would pat my face and say, “Oh my granddaughter”, with tears welling from her eyes. I guess those were the times that my fever soared high. And I imagined how my loving grandmother took care of my father in his younger days when he was also sickly like me.
I was usually fed soft rice and a simple viand that was especially cooked for me. I would be happy with ‘tinolang tugak’ or frogs cooked with papaya and lots of green leaves. We had a backyard where papaya and vegetables grew. Father saw to it that we feasted on vegetables and soup.
A few days after the fever had left me, father and mother would do the ritual preparations for my bathing. Father would prepare water in a large basin and put it under the sun for warming. At 10 in the morning, the water should be ready and mixed with sap of boiled herbs. Mother gave me a hurried bath. Father always got ready with my hot soup, which I sipped as soon as I had my bath.
My Realization:
Why did my parents have to put the water under the sun? Maybe, they believed in the healing power of solar energy. But to me, the healing is more than the solar energy. It is the loving touches of people that hastened my recovery. It is the sacrifice of my parents and their faith in God that healed me.
“Yet it is you who brought me out of the womb and kept me safe at my mother’s breast. I have been yours since I was born; you are my God from my mother’s womb.”
(Psalm 22:10-11)
I inherited father’s poor health. My sisters used to tease me that I was almost undependable in household chores. If I washed even just a handkerchief, I would surely get sick the next day. Oh no, I am not exaggerating! One time this really happened. And I also did suffer from monthly fevers. The fever came in time with my monthly visits. During these sick days, I felt the most loving touches of my family. Well, I couldn’t expect much when I had no fever. I have four more brothers and four more sisters that have to be looked after also! But yes, I felt special during sick days. And maybe God allowed me to be sick often because He wanted me to feel the love of my family in many ways.
Father was almost a nervous wreck when one of us got sick. He would separate the plates, spoon and fork of the sick person. Later I would understand why. He was very prudent that no one gets contaminated because there was no money to pay for the doctor’s fee and the medicines. Sometimes my father would take the role of a ‘diagnostic physician’ and would prescribe medicines. He also read medical books! I used to wonder how he does this trade. He gets my pulse rate and suddenly smilingly utters, “You have no more fever”. Or at times, his face turned anxious when the fever would not leave. We were usual clients of the free health center. When we were not strong enough to be brought to the center, a doctor came in to diagnose and would not charge anything. Mother literally begged from benefactors during these times. Medicines were not affordable. My parents regarded all these human provisions as Divine Providence at work. Later, I came to realize that faith and love had so much to do with healing.
Being sick gave me much advantage. Mother tenderly gave me a sponge bath. Father’s mother was usually around to take turns with mother. I couldn’t forget her loving touches. She would pat my face and say, “Oh my granddaughter”, with tears welling from her eyes. I guess those were the times that my fever soared high. And I imagined how my loving grandmother took care of my father in his younger days when he was also sickly like me.
I was usually fed soft rice and a simple viand that was especially cooked for me. I would be happy with ‘tinolang tugak’ or frogs cooked with papaya and lots of green leaves. We had a backyard where papaya and vegetables grew. Father saw to it that we feasted on vegetables and soup.
A few days after the fever had left me, father and mother would do the ritual preparations for my bathing. Father would prepare water in a large basin and put it under the sun for warming. At 10 in the morning, the water should be ready and mixed with sap of boiled herbs. Mother gave me a hurried bath. Father always got ready with my hot soup, which I sipped as soon as I had my bath.
My Realization:
Why did my parents have to put the water under the sun? Maybe, they believed in the healing power of solar energy. But to me, the healing is more than the solar energy. It is the loving touches of people that hastened my recovery. It is the sacrifice of my parents and their faith in God that healed me.
