One fateful night, the darkness was rampaged by two distinct cries: one for the victor and the other, the mourn of the unfortunate. One fateful night changed the lives of the many. Some lost hope while some reaped the fruits of their own labor.
That one fateful night…oh yes, how can I forget? You’ve been waiting for so long for the result of your final battle. Yes, I remember it so well; your so-called “final battle”. I just smirked and shook my head when you said it to me on the day you gave birth to this term.
A smile was all I could afford as a response. There are things in this world which you must learn by yourself. Sometimes, you will learn them the hardest way. Sometimes they come in big surprises you can consider them as life’s give-aways. But not every day is your birthday. That’s how things are meant to be. I have been there and done that. And now is your turn to learn.
You clutched my hand with eager excitement as they prepare the screen where the names of the lucky few will be posted. You looked at me and uttered, “The names of the successful warriors will be posted any minute from now and you will surely find my name there.”
They are not the successful warriors. They are the lucky warriors. Having your name in the list is not a guaranty that they are the bravest. Sometimes, the bravest and vigilant warriors are those who are left behind in the battle to assure that they have strike down the enemies for good.
Instead, I smiled back and sealed my lips. Ah, that youthful pride and vigorous claim of success. How can I forget? I once had them but kept it from you that the truth of the matter is, at the end of the day, I had my dreams shattered. The moment is yours and I will never do anything to interfere, much worst, kill the rising glory reflecting in your eyes.
And then the projector rolled and everyone cheered. The names! You became more animated. The grip in my hand became tenser. And as the name of the successful passers slowly appeared on the screen one by one, a chilling silence corrupted the entire crowd that was once jovial.
One by one…some cheered, some wailed in frustration. One by one…the dreams are starting to either become a reality or remain simply as an unfulfilled illusion. One by one…there! it’s coming! We’re about to see your name! Your name…! Your…your name….it’s not there.
I am sorry.
And slowly the dreams faded in your eyes as you lose the grip in my hand. A tear fell and became a sob; then a throbbing cry that became unstoppable and uncontrollable. And then the shaking of the shoulders of the defeated young warrior.
I am deeply sorry. You lose. We lost. And there is nothing I can do about it. Really, I wish your pain is mine to bear. But that’s how you must be trained. I am deeply sorry.
But as for me, a single tear was all I could give to release the pain; nothing more nothing less. For I know that you are now officially entering your training for a bigger task that is about to befall you. That single tear was not for your defeat but the torment of seeing a loved-one in agony.
No greater joy for those who ended up as victors. Contrariwise no pain is describable for the unfortunate. Yes, you are right. No words of encouragement can help you now, but perhaps for the meantime while the wounds are fresh.
Despite the lost, a part of me was not saddened for I know that in this temporary set-back, God is preparing you to become one of the best litigators in mainstream Manila the way God is continuously training me. And the best way to go up is to start at the bottom. No short-cuts, no luck –just plain destiny that once you allow God to take control of your life then you should be dead serious that you are allowing Him to design everything for you down from the dirtiest strategy to the most sophisticated hand-me-down result. And believe me, one of these days both of us will be the most dreaded tandem in terms of litigation and the legal community will call us “THE SISTERS”. I will faithfully wait for that precious time as we go fight hand in hand the rights of the oppressed.
Lavish on the pain for this will lead you someday to your most immeasurable joy. Learn the art of humility because no successful man is without any failure. They all started with scraps. They all have been thrown with craps. They all left trails of tears of pain and desperation along the way. They have been bombarded with daily discouragement and a cup of mockery to start their mornings.
But look at them my dearest. In the long run these men became stronger than ever, men who are hungry for success, men who chew victory as they clenched tightly on defeat. Their enemies die each day for every success these men made.
But the trainer of these men was the proudest of all –GOD.
No it’s not the end of the world. Losing is not tantamount to death. It’s just the beginning of a new chapter that is about to unfold. The sun that shines today, at this very precise moment of your defeat, is still the same sun that shone yesterday and will be the same sun that will shine tomorrow.
Get up. Get dress. Start the battle. Do not slumber on your pain because the world will not stop turning just to wait for you to recover. If you will choose to be drawn in your tears then you have chosen to be left behind as well.
The world will not stop revolving just for you. Fight. Unleash the warrior within you. Put on the shield that you have earned for each failure that you make. Carry the sword that you have earned from each of your success. Be the hero of yourself that you deserve to be. And don’t be scared to try one more time. Don’t languish with the pain too long.
Believe me dear, the only thing that is hindering you now from trying is that thing called PRIDE.
But most of all, don’t be scared to cry… because only heroes cry. They cry as they aim for their goal. They cry as they fall. They cry for the deepest wound. They cry for each scoffing and discouragement. And yes, believe me, even heroes cry for their defeat. But the most pertinent above all, they cry for trying and trying and never losing their hope until they succeed and deserve to be called heroes in their own right.
The distorted you is waiting to be saved by the hero sent by God above; that hero who will pick up the pieces once again and start a new battle that the defeated you has once left; that hero who will stand up once again and finish the battle up to the last drop of blood; and that hero is none other than YOU.
We will be waiting for you at the finish line, our dear warrior. A new battle is about to begin.