Saturday, September 12, 2015


We're engaged!

I have always wondered why women cover their face or mouth with their hand during a proposal. I did it when I saw him on one bent knee when we were in Paris. I consciously fought my hand to go to my face but I had to because I was already bawling but I wanted to see him so instead of covering my eyes I just covered my mouth.


We saw this picture before we went to Paris and we joked about making sure that he will not tie his shoelace near the Eiffel Tower.

Shoelace! Is this a joke? Are you serious? But you're sick and we almost canceled this tour? You planned for this? When did you decide? OMG you're serious!

Those were my thoughts in the exact same order.

Ritchie booked a photography tour on August 19, 2015 for us to see the most common tourist sites of Paris to take pictures and have our pictures taken. It was the most reasonable thing to do because according to him, he knows how much I would love to have good pictures from Paris.

The night before the tour, he wasn't feeling really well so I suggested for us to cancel it. I wanted him to rest because I don't want him to be sick during the entire 3 weeks trip. He said that we can't cancel the tour anymore, so he just took a lot of medicines and drank a lot of tea.

The photography tour lasted for 3 hours and I was already complaining because we were walking around Paris for that long under the heat of the sun.  The photographer that he hired took a lot of pictures of us doing our own thing. It was like a dream come true! We have a paparazzi following us and taking our moments together. I have always wished that somebody will secretly take a snap of our sweetest moments together because I would really want to preserve them.

Like during those multiple times when he carried me because I was already tired of walking with my heels on. Those times when he would sing or dance to make me laugh. Those days when I get a headache or when my muscles are stiff so he will give me a massage. Those days when he will carry whatever I am carrying even if it is my shoulder bag. When he will give me kisses on my forehead just because... I am so thankful that we had a paparazzi that day! He insisted that we slow dance near the Louvre Museum while the 2 musicians were playing. I said no because it was embarassing but he dragged me. It's one of the sweetest moments in my life. =D

I can't wait for us to have a church wedding. I can't wait to marry this amazing person that God gave me to share my life with.

*Thank you bheng for giving me this experience. I love you!

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Monday, July 20, 2015

Tallest of all the Marines

There's a story about a young Marine named Michael who wrote a letter home to his mother while he was in the hospital after having been wounded in Korea in 1950.  A Navy Chaplain named Father Walter Muldy apparently was given the letter, checked the facts and concluded what was in the letter was true. A year later he read the letter in public for the first time, to a gathering of some 5,000 Marines at the Naval Base in San Diego.  Here is the letter:

Dear Mom,
I wouldn't dare write this letter to anyone but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard but I have got to tell somebody. First off, I am in a hospital. Now don't worry, ya hear me, don't worry. I was wounded but I'm okay you understand. Okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month. But that's not what I want to tell you.

Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every day. You really didn't have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel. You even named me after him. Well I always have.

When I got to Korea, I prayed even harder. Remember the prayer that you taught me? "Michael, Michael of the morning, fresh chord of Heaven adorning," you know the rest of it. Well I said it everyday. Sometimes when I was marching or sometimes resting. But always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to say it.

Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the Commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold, my breath was like cigar smoke.
I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I'd ever seen. He must have been 6'4" and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near.

Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start conversation I said, "Cold ain't it." And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather.

My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly. I looked at him, "I have never seen you before, I thought I knew every man in the outfit."
"I just joined at the last minute", he replied. "The name is Michael."
"Is that so," I said surprised. "That is my name too."
"I know," he said and then went on, "Michael, Michael of the morning ..."

I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn't I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen. Why now and then, they even referred to me as St. Michael. Neither of us spoke for a time and then he broke the silence.
"We are going to have some trouble up ahead."

He must have been in fine physical shape or he was breathing so lightly I couldn't see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no great revelation. Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a white fog of sticky particles. My companion disappeared.

"Michael," I shouted in sudden alarm.
I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, "This will stop shortly."
His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc. I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise.
Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn't anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us.

"Down Michael," I screamed and hit the frozen earth.
I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing. Mom, those guys couldn't have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits. But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake. At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know..

I remember feeling strong arms around me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking well, this is not so bad. Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor. As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger, his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an angel. In his hands was a sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights. Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment's rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead.

"Where is Michael," I asked.
I saw them look at one another. "Where's who?" asked one.
"Michael, Michael the big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us."
"Kid," said the sergeant, "You weren't walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow."
He looked at me, curiously. "How did you do it kid?"
"How'd I do what?" I asked half angry despite my wound. "This marine named Michael and I were just ..."

"Son," said the sergeant kindly, " I picked out this outfit myself and there just ain't another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it."

He paused for a minute, "Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn't been a shot fired from your rifle. And there isn't a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there."
I didn't say anything, what could I say. I could only look open-mouthed with amazement.

It was then the sergeant spoke again, "Kid," he said gently, "every one of those seven Commies was killed by a sword stroke."

That is all I can tell you Mom. As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain. But that is what happened.

Love, Michael

Michael, Michael of the morning,
Fresh chord of Heaven adorning,
Keep me safe today,
And in time of temptation
Drive the devil away.

I was looking for a prayer that I could send to my brother while he's doing the marine boot camp and found the story above.

Please help us pray for my brother, Recruit Phillip P.
Let us also not forget to pray for those people who are defending us, protecting us and helping us have peace.

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