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Blessings from God

All of us in this world are born with different gifts and blessings from God. It may come in small or big packages. Family is our first community and where our first socialization takes place. We are influenced and raised according to sets of belief and values that our parents and relatives taught us. I was raised both my parents and my grandmother. I really cannot put into words what I exactly feel being taken care of an elderly. She was indeed one of the greatest blessing from God.

Grandma is the best human being I’ve ever known because she loves to help other people in her own ways. She was never selfish and makes it a point to share more than what she have in her life. She is a very jolly person and you can always see that unique smile on her face. It eases all the burdens and pains of going home from school or after a huge fight from my playmates. My beloved nurse who cures my wounded knees and saw my tattered clothe. She is the reason why I was able to go schooling. Although she is old she tries her best to support me in giving financial aid for my studies.

My parents entrusted me to her that’s why she finds every way to give everything I need from basic needs of foods and clothings. She used to work back then to earn money and provide everything I need and every luxury I want including toys and gadgets. Although she looks like snobbish and strict, she loves to clown around and plays with me whenever she has time. She has jokes that lets me laughed my heart out. Being a mischievous and quite of a brat, she seldom gets mad at me and disciplines me without any spanking experience.

She is also my mentor when it comes to religion. We never failed to attend mass together and taught me how important faith is in a life of a person. I have plenty of aunts and uncles who needs to be taken care of by her but she always finds a way to take care of me. She gives me lessons that will forever be stuck in my mind telling me to help other people the best that you can. I never forgot to help other people because I inherited that virtue from my grandmother. When it was time for me to go with my parents and leave Mexico, it was really hard for us to be separated.

I can still recall the way she uttered the words “please do not go” and until now I cry every time I remember that sad separation. I leave her with a promise to call her every now and then to let her know everything about me. Now that we are miles apart, I remember my grandmother every single day of my life. How she used to cook my favorite dishes back when I was in Mexico, how we share endless conversations before going to sleep and the problems she helped me solved. I really missed her so much.

I know that until now she used to pray for me and also for her other sons and daughter’s welfare. She is older now than before but letters makes us be more connected. there is nothing like a letter from grandma. it’s this thing that instantly warms your heart, with words wrapping themselves around you like an embrace. it always arrives in an airmail envelope, flimsy, filmy paper and edges candy-striped red and blue. my name and address are written in perfect penmanship, and the return address reads, “GRANDMA,” a word written with authority and dignity.

she always write her grandchildren on their birthdays — letters usually filled with religious references and life-long lessons. in my letters, grandma always reminded me to model my life after the Virgin Mary, be a loving and obedient daughter and do well in my studies. in recent years, however, the focus has shifted to working diligently, taking care of my parents and finding a proper mate. She loves to take care of many people but she she hates people telling her what to do, I told her once to simply to keep the worries to a minimum. “that’s right,” she wrote.

“to entirely stop worrying is impossible, but to keep worrying to a minimum is possible. thank you. ” I received one letter from her telling me how wise i was. she was saying that i was the only one who knew what mattered. this time, she was writing how much she loves me and misses me; she told me not to worry, because she’s happy; and please, please write back soon, she said. I cried after reading that particular letter. the tears just welled up in my eyes as i held that piece of paper in my hand, and i walked in a daze into my bedroom and sat on my bed and just cried.

not deep, convulsive sobs, just slow, heavy tears, in realization at how terribly wonderful she is. and, god, that woman really is. granted, when she’s angry, watch out. she can grasp grudges so tightly they can’t breathe, and her silent treatments can make any young girl or grown woman cry, and they did, so many times. But when she loves you, there’s no doubting it. she bursts. her deep, brown eyes light up, and her full-bellied laugh fills the air. she’ll do whatever you ask and things you shouldn’t even expect.

she’ll pray to all the angels and saints to make sure you are kept safe and warm and happy forevermore. There’s a picture i have of us, sitting on a rocking chair that I look every now and then every time I misses her, I’m on her lap, and she’s grabbing hold of me so tightly which symbolizes how attached she was to me. Of course, now that h’m older and thousands of miles away, there’s nothing i want more than to sit like that on my grandma’s lap, enveloped in her embrace.

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