The Visit

The gate squeaks with rust. The flowers are gone. The ponds are empty and dry. Ceilings droop. Everything seems dilapidated. A contrast to how things were in the past.

I went around. I can almost feel my mother's breath on the walls. I still see vividly how she and dad had kept everything perfectly cozy and comfortable.

I was teary-eyed, thankful one daughter was with me. I see life, I see death. I see people come and go. I see rise and fall, excellence and destruction. I see life's cycle.

None of us wanted the house. No one amongst the eleven. No one wanted to stay. We have carved our niche elsewhere under the sun.

And so the old house shall stay. Until blown away by seasons, dust and wind. But wherever we go, whatever we do... a part of us remains there.

#TillTheNextVisit....

by: Mary Sarah Georgie Generato Flores

Prayer of a Survivor

Lord, you brought us here today bound by a common thread. 

Each of us has been a victim of injustice, bias, and inequality. 

We have suffered pain and desolation in different degrees.

Each of us found ourselves in a fight we did not cause,

a fight we did not start. 

There were times, we lost to these fights,

but we moved on and kept fighting anyway. 

We implore You now to come to our aid. 

To console us, to comfort us,

and to heal our hurts and pains. 

We recognize that it is through Your loving grace that we survived. 

And as such, no amount of threat or harm can injure us again

because we are not fighting our wars alone

since we have you with us. 

We trust.

We believe.

You are with us.

Amen.