Dinner by Candlelight

Not since two decades ago (or more) have I had the privilege of dining by candlelight. Glenda made it all possible again yesterday.  This time it was not only with Tony, but with two other men who abhor any concession to the artsy style of dining.

And it was not only dinner by candlelight, it was everything by candlelight at home. All four of us sat in various places in the dark from early morning to late at night, unable to do anything without electricity and phone lines, except seeing our own bent shadows. 

The howling of the wind was eerie, but the ringing in my ears, eerier.

Every so often, while killer Glenda, touted as fiercer than ferocious Typhoon Milenyo in 2006, lashed at our surroundings, we’d hear clanging (of unhinged roofs), crashing (of trees and lampposts), and other violent, breaking sounds we could not quite make out.

I’d have cowered in fear, but knowing that grace had ensconced us in safety, I prayed instead for the thousands whose homes had been displaced and whose health had been risked.

With our phone and laptop batteries spent, we were cut and shut off from the world outside. But after the passing of the night, a new, bright morning came through.  

The power came back at midnight, the wind and rains exited to some other land, and today, the sun, although still a bit shy, is shining upon us again.

There are debris to clean up, floods to drain, and damages to repair, but the day Glenda made our lives grind to a halt was something I will remember with a smile. We, the 2/3 family in our Philippine household (1/3 is in Pittsburgh), dined by candlelight—a rare, unexpected family get-together that would never have come without the prodding of Typhoon Glenda. 

“Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18 (NLT)  

 

A 105-year-old tree uprooted by Typhoon Glenda, PhilStar