A playful six year old boy came out of comfort room, jumped and landed his feet to the wet doormat, he slided and fell down. The back of his head hit the corner of the concrete stair. He instantly looked pale and burst into tears. He didn’t have wound but his mom brought him to a nearby doctor immediately, afraid for internal hemorrhage. The boy was under observation for 24 hours.
The same boy at four years old chew a blade incidentally, mistaken it for a toy. The good thing was, her mother was around and made him spit the pieces of blades. Thank God that there was no blood or cuts on his tongue, lip and other parts of his mouth.
His teachers were fond of him for his scent that almost like a baby compared to other boys his age during his elementary years.
Time flies too fast… the little boy had grown up… the “kuya” of my darlings. I often teased him by calling him “Nitoyo” (Nicolo) or “Tuya” (Kuya or big brother). Yep, he can’t talked straight during childhood or we call it “bulol” in the Philippines. I used to accompany him on his taekwondo and swimming lessons during elementary. Whew! Those were the days… This morning, we attended his baccalaureate mass… Tomorrow is his Graduation Day. I was teary eyed when he gave me a white rose with a letter. A letter of a young man for his mom.
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