Mr. & Mrs. Carlo and Leah Santos...

Today, I put on the pause on the remote control of my life. Today, the world is reserved for Mr. & Mrs. Carlo and Leah Santos. My big brother's wedding day. And just like that they're husband and wife. Introduced to the family last November, married May the next year. (Yes, THAT fast.) And that's probably what many might think. But I think they're wrong. If you saw them today, if you saw them look at each other with all the love, care, faith and affection with an intensity that you sometimes wonder if you'll ever have, you couldn't possibly think that way about them. Because maybe the truth is, we should all be so lucky. Lucky to find that person we're absolutely crazy about and just can't wait to start the rest of our lives with. It's probably not the same road many of us would consider or take. Which makes these two the exceptionally lucky, crazy and madly in love. Times a hundred. To the infinite power. These guys are just wonderful.

And the wedding was....beautiful.

You find the best things when you look through old files...

This I want to share with you. As I was going through our library collection at my folk's place I chanced upon an old copy of “the Little Prince” which I could tell hadn’t been touched in ages. As I skimmed through it’s pages a folded brown piece of paper fell off and had written on it a very short story that I found highly amusing and in some ways moving. The story, by the looks of the paper must have been at least a few to 5 years old. The author to me was not revealed.

Enjoy.

Jorick Santos - This was sometime August 2001.

There once was a girl who never got out of her abode. Happily alone, all she wanted was some peace and quiet, and she got just that. Until one day, she realized that being alone did not make her happy at all. It happened when a boy passed by her window. The boy stopped and looked inside. She hid herself from his eyes but somehow she could not resist, and later found herself staring straight at the boy.

No one spoke a word……maybe they did not know what to say to each other or maybe there was simply no need for it. The boy stared. The girl stared back…and they saw that they both looked in, and they both looked out; and the girl didn’t care if it was raining outside. She was terribly afraid of thunder, but looking at the boy, fully drenched, she ran outside to meet him.

Everyday, he would pass by her window and they would both play outside, whatever the weather, whatever the season, it never bothered them…and the girl longed for his company as soon as she got home.

But one day, the boy did not see her, and she waited until the next day, and the next still. And she cried because she lost someone who has shown her the world outside….how to feel the sun in her face, the rage of heaven as it pours, the bruises from falling down small hills, the wind in her curly hair…and she felt real pain stab her inside, soon tears began to form and the girl fell to her knees and sobbed.

But eyes do run out of tears sometimes, and she got up, tired of crying and the girl started to get inside her lonely home again when she realized that hey, she could still feel the sun, the rain, the wind, the night, the mist…all she needed was to go outside…..and the boy simply led her the way.

Tears are probably the soul’s natural cleansers. People see a whole lot better after crying, she thought.

And though the girl never saw the boy ever again, she would always be reminded that the boy let her see through her window from different angles….and from opposite sides…

….and the girl continues to love the boy a lot; a whole – whole lot – lot.


*Still.