So True it’s Creepy

While checking/grading the final papers of my students in Critical Writing, I moaned. Many of them had over 70% AI detection score. Is AI so accurate that people are making it their go-to source?” 

To test its accuracy, I typed “What is leavesofgrace.blogspot.com all about?” I am cutting and pasting what AI coughed up, word-for-word. 

leavesofgrace.blogspot.com is a personal blog by a Filipino author, focusing on reflections on faith, grace, writing, books, and life experiences, often connecting everyday moments to spiritual themes and encouraging gratitude, with posts sharing stories, devotionals, writing processes, and highlights from writing projects and life events. The name itself signifies finding God's continuous blessings in small things, much like leaves in nature. 

Key Themes & Content:

Faith & Spirituality: Posts often explore spiritual insights, God's grace, and personal faith journeys, drawing from scripture and experiences.

Writing & Literature: The author shares their passion for writing, book projects (including devotional books and contest entries), and the creative process, turning words into published "leaves".

Life & Gratitude: Content includes reflections on nature, family, friends, and ordinary occurrences, emphasizing finding blessings and practicing gratitude.

Filipino Context: Posts sometimes reference Filipino culture, local events (like the Matatag Curriculum), and personal connections within the Philippines. 

In essence, it's a digital journal of faith, writing, and life, celebrating the "leaves" (moments, words, blessings) that reveal unending grace. 

Dive Deeper in AI Mode

Leaves of Grace is the personal blog of Grace D. Chong, a multi-award-winning Filipino author of children's books and devotionals. 

Active since November 2006, the blog serves as a digital journal focused on finding spiritual significance in "seemingly small, ordinary things". Key themes include: 

Faith and Devotion: Many posts are reflections on the Christian faith, documenting how God's grace manifests in daily life, family milestones, and personal "storms".

Literary Life: Chong provides behind-the-scenes looks at her writing process, book launches, and participation in events like the Manila International Book Fair (MIBF).

Children's Literature: As the author of the popular Oh, Mateo! series and several devotionals for kids, she often discusses the importance of reading and her work with organizations like CSM Publishing and OMF Literature.

Personal Essays: The blog features stories about her family, travels, and reflections on aging, which she describes as the golden years. 

Would you like to find specific book titles by Grace D. Chong or information on where to purchase her devotionals?

Mouth agape, I turned on all the house lights to shake off the creeps. 

But that's the creepy world we live in today. 

   

My first header: November 23, 2006

My current header: January 2026

The Grave, Grace, and Gratitude

On this day last year, just before midnight, Tony bade us goodbye, never to return. And as I remember that day, three words burst in my head unbidden. I'd like to reflect on them as my family and I commemorate his first death anniveresary,    

Grave: Visiting Tony’s grave is not meant to be a ritual or to dwell on the past. We were not there on All Saints’ Day or All Souls’ Day. But when time allows (same home, different schedules), we visit—more to process our grief and to honor his memory. 

I know too well that the grave represents our mortality, an end to our earthly life. It serves as a reminder of the brevity of life, and the fact that “All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return." (Ecclesiastes 3:20) 

Grace: To believers like me, it is the free, unmerited gift of God; the force that keeps us alive and well, despite our unworthiness.  It emphasizes a kindness bestowed upon us that we have not earned and will never deserve. It allows our grief to be near but not close enough to make us despondent or depressed. 

Gratitude: This is our natural response to the grace we receive.  Awareness of grace leads to a deep sense of gratitude, quietly transforming our outlook from the pangs of grief to the pomp of glory. 

Even amidst the raw pain of grief, the beauty of a loved one's memory and our belief in God’s faithfulness encourage us to give heartfelt thanksgiving.  

The Latin root word for both "grace" and "gratitude" is gratis. When gratis is given by God, it's grace; when we receive it, it becomes gratitude. This connection suggests a circle. Receiving grace leads to gratitude, which in turn enables us who are grateful to channel that grace to others. 

Together, all three words (grave, grace, and gratitude) describe accurately what I feel when I am by Tony’s grave. And I pray it is the same with my sons, my sister, and all kith and kin who visit.  

What Will You Do Now?

My close friends were appalled when I told them I had decided to quit classroom teaching, a part-time job I relished for over 20 years.  

“Why would you leave a job you love?!”

“What will you do now?!”  

I replied to the first question with a blog. 

To the second question . . . “Reading, writing, and crossword  puzzles [not necessarily in that order] will keep me more than busy. They now have my total, unequivocal attention.” 

Last Christmas, I received my new Bible from son #1. He gives me a new translation/version of the good Book every year. This time, it’s another Chronological Bible with a Recap! How cool is that? January is Bible Month in the Philippines, so I am feasting on this. 

I squealed with excitement when I got his second gift—Philip Yancey’s latest book, his autobiography—but after a recent news, cold water poured on the euphoria . . . that, I will blog about when the ache dulls. 

My sister Aie gave me my favorite crossword puzzles by Will Shortz, my favorite cruciverbalist, of New York Times (all 365 for the whole year). It was a gift to her from my late BCF Minna, but which she selflessly passed on to me.

“What will you do now?” 

Well, aside from those, my mind is now climbing mountains and skyscrapers, rappelling down cliffs and gorges searching for fresh ideas for my next book/s. 

There is more than enough grace to keep me up and running.   

Does Life Have Chapters?

Looking back, it seems that my life has been a series of chapters. 

Looking deeper, however, these “chapters” are really an overarching, meaningful narrative authored by our Maker, focused on relationship with Him, redemption, and a purposeful walk toward forever. 

It is a progression, a journey of spiritual transformation and growth.  

My last six years have exactly been this joyful journey (in 2025, the Lord made it my panacea for grief). I facilitated the women’s Sunday school in our church—not because I asked for it, but because son #3, the chairman of our church board, voluntold me.  

At that time (pandemic), we had no pastor and to keep the Lord's work seamless was to assign someone who was available and could not say no: Mom. 

It has been a learning (not teaching) voyage for me: mining the scriptures, discerning God’s truth, consulting pastors I know online, and sharing these with the women who added dimensions to the lessons through their own faith journey. I pray we have moved from a small seed to a strong tree. 

In October last year, we have been blessed with a new, young pastor, whose wife has the energy, enthusiasm, and the expertise to take over. 

In sync with the times, the last lesson for 2025, which I facilitated, was “Faith in Troubled Times."  

We demonstrated this by burning whatever had been stunting our faith’s growth: problems, struggles, anger, bitterness, biases, etc. 

When all turned to ashes, we celebrated the birth of Grace by sharing Christmas gifts.  

Life on earth is just one continuing chapter. It closes when He calls. But it opens to an entirely new and eternal one when Jesus comes again. 

We say one last "cheese" for 2025, but the journey under a new aegis continues.  

Smiles, Stories, and Sparkles

Museo ng Muntinlupa* said it better than I ever could: 

“Yesterday was nothing but smiles, stories, and sparkles for our Grade 5 and Grade 6 learners! Students joined Kwentuhan Sa Museo’s 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚!,  an interactive storytelling activity designed to spark creativity and build a joyful learning community among young readers.

“We were honored to have 𝗠𝘀. 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗗. 𝗖𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗴, a Palanca Awardee, who brought her story “𝘖𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘰! #06 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳” to life, leaving our audience inspired with meaningful lessons and big imaginations.

 

“A heartfelt thank you to our partners, OMF Literature Inc. and the Schools Division Office of Muntinlupa, for making this event possible.

“Reading isn’t just a skill, it is a doorway to imagination, learning, and lifelong success. And yesterday, our young readers walked right through it.” 

Those words lit up my world and affirmed my craft--writing about His grace--before the Christmas activities overlapped and overspread. I picked them up from the FB page of Museo ng Muntinlupa where I spent one bright, starlit day in early December 2025. 

An auditorium filled with over 200 people (vibrant kids and chatty adults) was hushed while I read “Look for the Star” (published by Hiyas of OMF Lit and illustrated by Beth Parrocha), the book cited by the award-giving body as the best in Asia in the year 2019. 

The story of parents’ unconditional love for their children and children’s ability to acknowledge that love (not immediately, but at some point in time) resonated with the audience, not because of culture but because it is written . . . 

"Children, obey your parents because you belong to the Lord, for this is the right thing to do. Honor your father and mother. This is the first commandment with a promise: If you honor your father and mother, 'things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.'"  Ephesians 6:1-3 NLT 

The Q&A, facilitated by the charismatic and energetic emcee, was candid and insightful. They powered new ideas for new books in the future. 

Writing is blessed with a perk: overwhelming grace, such as a day like this. 

*Museo ng Muntinlupa webpage: it is a cultural and educational venue of the city of Muntinlupa. It is the primary venue to present and preserve the history, heritage, and culture of the Muntinlupeños for generations to come. 

       As a city museum, Museo acquires, conserves, researches, communicates, and exhibits the tangible and intangible heritage of the city of Muntinlupa and its environment. It is the primary institution that forwards the conservation of Muntinlupa’s heritage through research, exhibitions, public programs, and even merchandise. 

       As a cultural center, it celebrates, fosters, and supports the culture and artistic excellence of the Muntinlupeños through performances, exhibitions, and training.

Focusing then Forgetting

Focus, which is missing among the young who grew up on gadgets, is the theme of my latest book, Ready, Set, Focus!  

Not to brag, but focus possesses me when writing. I tune off the world and zero in on my current work. I double-check the accuracy of all data and conduct research to know what resonates with my target readers. Where focus cometh . . .  

For one, I grew up in a little town in an era when gadgets were still an unborn idea. Distraction is a modern enemy. For another, I trained in an ad agency where I shared a noisy room with 12 others, frequently visited by 12 more to debate ideas, with strict yesterday deadly deadlines. I ate pressure for breakfast.  

Writing also requires critically studying characters close to my heart. Their names and traits I borrow when creating real-life fiction. 

The irony is, after a book has been published. I focus on the next one and forget the details of the previous one.   

Ooops. I totally forgot using our Barangay Captain’s name and his character in a pivotal role to solve the problem of focus in the Barangay.  

I mentioned it to son #3, a lawyer, and he was appalled, “Mom, you need to give Kap Roni a copy! Explain what his role in the book is! Request Edward [an officer in church and a village street chair] to go with you.” 

I did as told, and was not surprised at how gracious Kap Roni was. Many people speak well of him—how seriously he takes his job through people-oriented projects. Looking back, that was why I chose his name to represent a community leader. 

What I thought would be a five-minute courtesy call stretched to an hour and a half. He shared his vision/mission for the community.  Ooops turned to awe.  

One of the blessings of an author is meeting people at the helm whose name I borrow because they  inspire.   

“For from his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.” (John 1:16 ESV)  

Happy Birthday, Son

Today is son #1’s birthday. But the celebration (a family dinner) was held three days earlier while their Tita Aie (my only sister), whom they adore, was still here in one of her short visits from the province. 

As usual, celebrations in our household have always been food—glitz and trimmings are never in the itinerary. 

There are only four people now, minus Tony. Grief attack stalked me. Son #1, who was given the freedom to choose the menu, as the celebrator, made sure one of Tony’s favorites (roasted duck) was on the table.

After Aie left for the province, a feast from son #2 and family in the US covered our dining table anew! An extended celebration! This time, only the celebrator and I shared the meal while son #3 still had to deal with an online class. 

A conversation of two: 

Me: How did we celebrate your birthday last year? 

Son #1: You, JR, and Mother Teresa were all in the hospital watching over Papa. I was left to be the house-sitter. 

Me: Oh. (Grief attack snuck in.)    

Son #1: He texted me, “Happy birthday, son.” 

Me: Oh. (I held back looming sobs by putting one whole fried lumpia in my mouth.) 

Son #1: That was his last text message to me. 

Silence. Chomp-chomp. Chew-chew.  Bite-bite. 

It would have been the perfect time to echo Tony’s last text message but . . . 

I am better at writing: “Happy bithday, son.” 

Now, time to return to reason: Birthdays are grace. They are happy occasions. 

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” Thessalonians 5:16-18 ESV

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

No festivity at home (noche buena it is called) could begin without first worshiping the Reason for Christmas with fellow believers. 

  

We believe that true worship of the Lord isn't about physical places (like Jerusalem or our church) but a sincere, internal connection: God is Spirit, so worship must be "in spirit" (heartfelt, genuine) and "in truth" (knowing and aligning with God's revealed character, Jesus). It shifts worship from outward rituals to an inner relationship, emphasizing the spiritual nature of God and kindred souls. 

It was a solemn hour of thanksgiving. 

The choir, like the angels in Bethlehem on the day Love came down, sang praises to honor our King. 

Our pastor spoke about the “Promise fulfilled” so sinful mankind can be saved. 

Then we re-enacted what Jesus instructed his followers, as recalled by Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 (ESV), “… on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.” 

The bread represents his body broken for wholeness, and the cup his blood shed for the forgiveness of sins, establishing a New Covenant.

We soaked in His grace as we celebrated His birth.  

Christmas Celebrates the Giver

This image macro (more popularly known as meme) appeared on our church’s FB page two days before Dec. 25. It was to remind us that . . . In a season full noise, gifts, and distractions, Christmas is about Jesus, the reason, the hope, and the light that never fades.  

If I may paraphrase Albert Benjamin (A.B.) Simpson, the founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance . . . 

Christmas is not just a holiday, but a profound demonstration of God's love, emphasizing Jesus's birth as the central event for salvation, healing, and the coming of God's kingdom on Earth. Rather than worldly festivities, Christmas celebrates the transformation He offers, leading to a life of service and witnessing His "Fourfold Gospel" of Salvation, Sanctification, Healing, and the Second Coming.

Focus on the Giver, Not Gifts: celebrate ‘The Giver,’ Jesus Christ, who came to save humanity from sin, It is about spiritual renewal rather than material exchange.

It is the birth of the church’s purpose: The infant Jesus represented the beginning of a Church meant to be a haven for the lost, a place of healing, training, and equipping believers for spiritual warfare, far beyond mere social gatherings.

Our church’s Christmas program, as designed by a committee and led by our pastor, centered on fellowship with faith brethren. More than fun, games and gifts, the emphasis was on testimonies of God’s faithfulness. 

Our CHRISTMAS was a celebration of the GIVER: JESUS 

X Is Not about the Past

Once I worked in a big advertising agency in the country named DYR (Dentsu, Young and Rubicam-Alcantara).  It was a merger between the biggest ad agency in Japan (Dentsu), the biggest ad agency in the US (Young and Rubicam) and its local partner, Alcantara. 

The partnership ended in the early 2000s. The new boss pressured me to specify December 31 as my resignation effectivity, otherwise I won’t get my full separation pay. It was only September, and I told him I had a four-month accumulated leave. It’d be forfeited if I didn’t take it. He shrugged. So right then and there, I decided to exit without a whimper.  

I was head of several units, but there was no chance to say good-bye to everyone: they were busy chasing  deadlines or on a client call.   

After the organization formally closed, someone created a group chat called XDYR. For years, peers in the well-knit company kept in touch and would meet quarterly for dinner and chats. I missed all those events because then, I didn’t want to compromise Tony’s comorbidity. 

With Tony gone, I joined them for the first time in November. About 30 of us met at JT’s Manukan Grille (their usual haunt) in Makati. I was relentlessly chided for disappearing like a smoke. Except for change of hair color and deep laugh lines, everyone seemed like they froze in time. The blustery jokes and boisterous laughter were exactly as I remember them. 

All 25 years vanished, but new topics of conversation emerged—grandchildren and retirement. 

Long-long, the hero in my latest book, “Ready, Set, Focus” arrived with his wife and he gamely posed for photographs, duplicating the cover. 

Every DYR department seemed represented: Media, Account Management, Audio-Visual, HR, Art Studio, Maintenance, and Services.  

That night, I did NOT travel back in time.  X in DYR means grace for today and every day thereafter. 

What a Difference a Year Makes

Has it been a year? Yesterday, I fussed over the things I would bring to our 81st annual reunion. 

It was the same scenario a year ago. But the packed bag stayed put—and got unpacked later in the afternoon. That day last year replays in slomo in my mind today. But the anxiety has been replaced by a quiet resolve to keep going.

Tony then had difficulty breathing even with slight exertion. He had decided to stay home but was insistent for me, the boys, and my sister Aie to go. I had to quickly plan a ruse—and to his surprise I stayed. Then Sammy (our driver) and I rushed to buy him a wheelchair. He and Judge, our pet dog,  couldn’t understand what it was for.  

Mother Teresa, Sammy, and I begged him to please use it; he did for a few minutes to humor us, but decided to simply lie down and read a book. And the next day . . . 

This bag is finally going to that reunion—a chance to bond with nieces, nephews, and grandkids.

  

The oldies are now all having another reunion in eternal land. On tierra firma, they are replaced by me and some of my cousins who are still ambling along.  

Only one third of the clan population will be there (from Dec. 30 to Jan. 1) because of diaspora. But our number is enough to call it a crowd. This, my mom’s side of the family, is huge. 

There, we will soak in the grace of laughter to end the year and start a new one.

"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7 NIV

Three Mateos in One

All my three sons are coffee connoisseurs or experts. They deeply appreciate and understand the subtle qualities of coffee.  I overhear them talking about flavor profiles, bean types, roast levels, and brewing methods. Duh. 

I drink only three-in-one. It’s a convenient mix of instant coffee, sugar, and creamer pre-blended and packed in single-serving sachets. I simply need to add hot water and I have my coffee! Fast and easy. 

My three-Mateos-in-one was just as fast and easy.   

While writing the first book in the Oh, Mateo! series (total of 16 books to date), I needed a Filipino name for the little hero. I didn’t have to look far. My dad, my brother, and my brother’s son are all Mateos.

At that time, I wasn’t thinking of a series, but that first book, The Boy Who Had five Lolas, won first prize in the Palanca Awards. I wrote a second one, Apo Mayor, using the same character. Guess what. It won another Palanca first prize the following year. And so Mateo went on . . . and on . . . and on. 

Last week, my sis Aie sent photos of the three Mateos that she salvaged from the monstrous flood that damaged our ancestral home. “Look, manangest!*” she wrote. “Your three Mateos.”  

(Left to right) My dad had long gone home. My brother Mateo Jr. is now a senior citizen, and Mateo III is running a thriving family business. 

Twenty four years is a long time, but the Mateo in my books is still the adventurous, smart,  and God-fearing eight-year-old who, as a role model, is helping shape Christian values among readers. 

In the Bible (the scripture of my faith), the first book in the New Testament is Matthew (Mateo in Filipino), which presents Jesus as the Messiah and King, fulfilling Old Testament prophesies to establish the "Kingdom of Heaven.” It details Jesus' birth, ministry, miracles, and teachings as Emmanuel (God with us). In Matthew, Jesus, the promised King, issues a universal call to make disciples of all nations.

ooo

*Manangest is the superlative form (our family group chat invention) of manang, an Ilocano honorific for older female.  I happen to be the oldest of the brood, see? 

Christmas: Unchanging Joy

For the first time in 55 years, I (and my family) am celebrating Christmas without Tony. Should I wallow in grief? 

Not. 

Christmas joy must prevail. It is rooted in the unchanging nature of God and the timeless message of Jesus' birth, love, and salvation, rather than fleeting earthly circumstances or emotions. 

Grace has taught me, as a believer in Scripture, that unlike temporary happiness, which is dependent on things like gifts, perfect family dynamics, or positive conditions, true joy is a stable, internal state that endures. Regardless of life's dark seasons, Jesus is. He is "the same yesterday and today and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). 

For me, the foundation of this Christmas joy is immune to the shifting shadows of life. It is a reminder of God's enduring faithfulness and promises. 

The Christmas message is timeless: that God sent His Son to offer hope, love, peace, and salvation to all people. It changes not from years of bad news and devastation getting worse every day. 

While Christmas 2025 involves a roller-coaster of my emotions, the underlying joy is constant because it connects to divine love and presence of God made accessible through Jesus' birth. 

Our family Christmas traditions continue: 

Son #3 prepares the turkey and go-withs, aided by mother Teresa . . . I do the turkey booties . . . son #2 and family send a fiesta feast good for a mob . . . son #1 serves a spread of charcuterie (gift from a friend) on the dining table, takes photos, and munch on a drumstick . . . Aie is always a supportive and affirming presence . . . we all pig out (this year on a new dining table in a newly renovated 48-year-old house).

Then I shriek with hysteria over my new Bible and books plus other presents . . . I sob over a now defunct tradition of Tony grinning widely, receiving his new Prince Valiant book from son #1 (I can dwell on that forever as a memory) . . . I go to bed before midnight; and finally . . . 

We each thank the newborn King, the risen Savior, personally during our quiet moments before a restful night to wake up to new blessings on Christmas day.

Merry CHRISTmas!

Performative Male?!

Now as old as the hills, I am still constantly enabled by grace to learn something new and surprising every day. 

I borrowed this photo from Mark because my book, The Teacher in Me, is in one hand and matcha on the other. My advocacy is for young people to love reading the printed page. 

But when I saw him in church, he explained that the photo was about being a performative male. 

"What’s that?"  

He tried to explain, but I couldn’t understand a word. The many young people around us giggled. 

Then one of them, Carla, sent me later an article to explain it.  

Further research opened my ears and eyes. It originated from J.L. Austin's concept of "performative utterances" but has evolved into a modern social media archetype.  It describes men curating a persona to attract women, who reject “toxic masculinity” because they prefer sensitive souls that: listen to evocative music, read specific books, carry tote bags with feminist slogans, wear certain t-shirts,  drink matcha, and adopt an aesthetic look, even with zero interest in them.  

“Performative male” is viewed as a fake portrayal of real values, but done only to project an image of a “nice guy" who is politically aware. 

Knowing Mark, an active youth leader in church, with various ministries (a real nice guy) and who reads the good Book, I realized the photo is just one of his jokes, a satire, so to speak. I have never doubted his being a sensitive soul. As a playful jokester, he finds ways to make people (like me) smile and laugh. 

 

Thank you Lord for blessing us with a vibrant, enthusiastic youth group in our church. We who are in our twilight years are assured that those whom we will leave behind will be focused, not on themselves or the world, but solely on You. Amen.  

Saturday Nights Year Six

From Reuben Tribe, our church’s small group’s name was changed to Kalye Gamaliel. based on the new curriculum. 

In the Bible, Gamaliel was a highly respected Pharisee, Jewish law expert, and member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish high court (Book of Acts). He was known for his wisdom, lenient approach to the law, and for being the teacher of Saul (who later became Apostle Paul). 

As a mentor of Saul of Tarsus (Acts 22:3), he taught lenient approach to the law. When the Sanhedrin wanted to execute the apostles for preaching Jesus, Gamaliel urged moderation:

“So my advice is, leave these men alone. Let them go. If they are planning and doing these things merely on their own, it will soon be overthrown. But if it is from God, you will not be able to overthrow them. You may even find yourselves fighting against God!” Acts 5:38 NLT 

His principles encouraged discernment: first processing and assessing new movements of people and events before acting rashly against them. In our language today, “Chill!” “Chllax!” What a coincidence that our facilitator is a lawyer (son #3).  

Back to our Saturday Nights—from Kalye Gamaliel, our name might change again, based on a newer curriculum. But the essence of our small group remains—camaraderie and enthusiasm over food, laughter, chats, testimonies, praises, and most importantly, gaining deeper insights into and discernment of the Lord’s message to us.  

Our Saturday nights teem with grace.

Gift of Time

“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11

At no time in the history of cosmetics have women been more vocal about looking younger and prettier than today.

Beauty products that are focused on looks for women, and even for men, have become multi-billion-dollar businesses. Never before have there been more gyms and spas to make people feel good about themselves.

Beauty clinics have likewise been ultra lucrative. Every day, there is someone undergoing surgery or treatment for bigger eyes, a higher nose bridge, firmer breasts, and whiter skin – and talking about it in ads or to friends.

“Take 10 years off your face,” one ad says. By eliminating eye bags, wrinkles, sagging jowls and the telltale signs of aging, one can indeed look younger.

But Mark Twain said this about aging: “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”

Aging is part of life as God designed it. We cannot stop it or deny it. We can have all the surgeries, cosmetics, herbs, and pills available to us today, but time will still tick by. We will grow old. And we will look it and feel it eventually, no matter how much we may try to delay it.

It is best, then, to enjoy the seasons of life – teens, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and so on. Let’s delight in the different experiences that our life stages bring. With age comes wisdom and maturity that even the greatest mind of youth cannot begin to imagine.

Lord, thank You for the gift of time. Help me to use it as best as I can according to Your divine plan for my life.

(This post in one of the 365 entries in the devotional Grace Found Me, a recipient of the 2012 Gintong Aklat [Golden Book] Award, Inspirational Category, from the Book Development Association of the Philippines. I decided to revisit it because these days, aging seems to be a sin.) 

When Old Friends Meet: Magical

It took months and hundreds of postponements before this meet-up came through. And when it did, it was magical. 

If only two more (Ms. Yay and Ms. Ciel now both live abroad) were with us, it would have been manna.  

Meet-ups used to be often because we were all colleagues in a university, where students addressed us Ms., and where we each taught different subjects. 

But Ms. Caroline moved to another university, Ms. Ayet and Ms. Rose opted to teach online, and I was left alone teaching one subject F2F once a week. To say it was difficult to have the same free time is an understatement. 

So how did this finally happen? Health break. 

Schools and local governments declared a week-long  holiday because of the outbreak of a flu-like virus (cough and colds) that is highly infectious, with dangers of leading to serious complications.  

And so we created our own definition of health break: have a rare bonding time, reminiscing about the good old days. The laughter, food, and unhurried non-work hours did wonders for our health. 

It was magical!   

Privilege Card

It has become my norm to dine out alone to escape the dust and the grating sounds in our home. Since June, when the renovation of our 48-year-old house started, dust and sounds have been my daily associates. 

Without sounding schmaltzy, I look back to those days before Tony left us for his eternal home in January this year. I never had to dine alone—not at home or outside. 

Today, I had lunch in a resto that bears my name, Mary Grace. When I asked for my tab, the waiter asked, “Ma’am, do you have a privilege card?” 

I pondered that for a few seconds. “Sorry, no, I only have a senior citizen card.” 

He grinned. “That was what I meant, Ma’am. But others get offended with the word senior.” 

LOL. I have embraced the life of a senior from day one. With it comes so many privileges. I get escorted to the comfort room, sales people offer me a seat in a store, security guards open doors for me, traffic policemen help me cross a street, etc. I get preferential treatment in crowded or wide places wherever I go. 

Those are privileges (countless!) that came with my senior citizen card. 

I had written about this in one of books, "What, Me Retire?"  

The day I received my senior citizen card, I had it immediately laminated, and after caressing it, I kept it inside a special space in my cardholder. A week later, after dining in a resto with Tony, the waiter gave us the tab. Tony handed him his senior citizen card. And then . . . with dramatic flourish, I took my own new card and waved it in slomo to the waiter. I heard in my mind a background music swell into crescendo. 

It was a moment of rare privilege and grace.