Thursday, November 8, 2007

Mistaken Idea

story of a girl. Pictures, Images and Photos
My mother said that when I was a child, I was too sickly…
…Okay. Wait. Let’s start from the beginning. I was born dead. I was one hour dead to be exact. They even named me Patricia. Yes, that was my unregistered yet “original” name. No one would ever think that that baby who was (sadly) not breathing would move its tiny little fingers and cry. It was a miracle.
I consider myself lucky after knowing that story. I could say that I’m a survivor. But to ensure that I was really a “few” distance away from danger, I often had regular visits to the hospital or clinic which started when I was still about weeks old. “Regular” means having not less than five visits a month, and in that place I dreaded so much, I often see those people wearing the blinding all-white clothing, but I hated most the people wearing caps which matched the white dress. I even had a phobia of being near people who wear white because I was too afraid of having given shots or medicines- from what my young mind think to be -every few minutes… and that was really a dark stage for a little girl like me.
I think I still have the memory of saying to myself that one day I will become a doctor or a nurse. But don’t get me wrong. That time, I hated them so much that with tears rolling down my face, I said, “I want to be a like them so that I can hurt the children and make them cry”. But the girl who said that was long ago gone, for what has now become of her was a tiny little dust left in the memory of struggle and survival. Years later, I understood that the people in white did that to save me, and I was too inspired by them that I even wanted to be like them. During my elementary years, I decided that I should become a nurse or a doctor not because of my earlier motive, but because I wanted to help people the way they had helped me survive. Without them, I wouldn’t be here.
Judging by the way I’m praising them (nurses and doctors), you would say that I really pursued studying a medical course but… no. I am quite contented with the college program I am in right now. I chose not to study that because of the simple fact that I am prone to catching an illness so… That’s the reason; I did not want to be the one lying down the bed and being tended to instead of the other way around.
Though I’m not enrolled in the program which focuses on medicine or something like that, though I’m not going to be one of those people wearing white, with clipboards on their arms or stethoscopes on their necks or thermometers on their desks, I am still thankful for without them, there wouldn’t be me. So I guess everything was just a mistaken idea after all.


Friday, August 24, 2007

What is a Girl?

A girl is a powder puff dipped in stars. She's the mist on the meadow and the foam on the surf. She's a bunch of fresh violets sparkling with dew.

A girl is a pink ball gown embroidered with dreams. She's an aura of fragrance wafted on a moonlit breeze. She's a cloud of ivory satin and heirloom lace floating down the aisle. She's radiance wreathed in a bridal veil.

A girl is a sliver of sunshine. Her smile can melt the hailstorm in your heart and lift you from the depths of despair. She bubbles over with joy at the smallest surprise and takes delight in life's simplest pleasures. She makes me feel young again.

A girl has the strength of the butterfly but a will of an iron. She can move strong men to tears and turn the plans of statesmen upside down. Though she cannot follow a road map, she can alter the course of world history. Charm is her strongest weapon against the will of man.

A girl cannot be pinned down, reasoned with, or completely won over by logic. She is guided by compassion and led by ideas. Though she may not listen to you, she will always listen to her heart.

A girl dreams romantic dreams beyond the scope of man. She sees a prince in a pauper and a saint among thieves. Her eyes are fortified with insight and her judgment with love. She sees what she want to see, hears what she wants to hear and believes what she wants to believe. She accepts you, not for what you are today, but for what she knows you can be.

A lovely girl transcends the ordinary present to star in man's most extravagant dreams. She makes him feel twice as big as he is.
A girl is a wife, a mother, a nurse, and a friend. Her heart aches when you are sad. She would bear your pain for you if she could.

A girl is a woman. Though she may look fragile, she has a strength of spirit that has held families together for generations. Little things upset her, but in a real crisis her courage is often magnificent.

A girl is a baffling but enchanting creature who was never meant to be understood by the simple mind of man. A girl is to love... forever.

~Corinne Adria Bariteau~

From Coronet, Vol. II, Dec. 1973

Monday, January 1, 2007

reach me

Let's be internet friends!

You may reach me through hermionehale {at} y@#00 {dot} c0m

that is if you're human.. :D