This Home We Love

by Carmelita Cochingco Ballesteros.
September 16, 2011
The first house of my childhood was made up of bamboo, wood, corrugated iron, a stay-at-home mother, a father whose job provided for his family’s needs, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents.
The second and third houses of my childhood were made up of the same elements, both human and nonhuman. Those houses were homes to me because of the extended family that sheltered, loved, and nurtured me.
Moving houses during childhood was easy. My siblings and I moved houses with the trust of innocent children in their parents’ love and with absolute faith in God’s providence.
Building Houses. As a young couple, my husband and I built a simple house of our own. I had expected shelter, love, and growth, but my marriage crumbled early on. One miserable day, I was devastated when I found out that my young son and I had been abandoned for a bigger house elsewhere.
My son and I could have stayed in that simple house, but it was not a home. It kept me bleeding and broken-hearted.
I needed the moral support of my extended family, and so, taking my son, I sought healing in my parents’ humble home. It was a very painful episode of moving houses.
Years passed and with the help of my sister and her husband, my son and I were able to build a two-bedroom house of our own. Moving houses, this time, was an occasion filled with hope, love, and faith.
A priest friend of mine, the late Msgr. Clemente Lopez, took an out-of-town trip over bumpy and muddy roads and blessed our new house. A new neighbor lent us a plate and glasses for the snacks we shared after the blessing.
My late mother helped us move and settle in. She came every now and then and planted all sorts of trees – guava, chico, guyabano (soursop), atis (sweetsop), papaya, coconut, and ilang-ilang (cananga odorata).
Almost 10 years afterwards, my son got married and started raising a family of his own. Together with his wife, we built a two-storey house with an attic, four bedrooms, three baths, a lanai, and a two-car garage in the same place.
This house has been the childhood home of my grandchildren. It has been a home where extended families from both sides have shared meals, stories, dreams, laughter, tears, sickness, forgiveness, healing, and faith.
Altogether, my son and I have lived in the same residential subdivision since September 1990. It wasn’t easy moving to this out-of-town place back then for several reasons. First, my son and I commuted daily to Manila by jeepney.
Second, electrical and water supply were irregular. Third, the place which used to be a rice field swarmed with mosquitoes and other insects. Fourth, our subdivision which was the only one in the area seemed to be ‘far removed’ from the town center.
Today, the area where we live is considered a suburb of Metro Manila and it is convenient to shopping malls and all the amenities of urban living. The Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA) is just 30 minutes away by car and Tagaytay City is a 90-minute drive.
A Home and a Mission. Together with a friend, we have been developing a small garden envisioned as a retreat center. My son and his wife have invested blood, sweat, and tears into that garden. Thus, it is a very special place for us.
Near Tagaytay City, the garden is cool and breezy. The soil is fertile. Trees and vegetation abound. Flowers and butterflies caress one another all day long. On a fine day, a gazillion of stars twinkle in the sky at night.
Last year, my daughter-in-law had a bout with cancer. Because she almost died after going through the surgery-radiation-chemo route of mainstream medicine, she and my son desperately switched to food therapy and prayed the rosary together with their two young children every day. They decided to “walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). Today, my daughter-in-law is healthy and happy.
This year, in gratitude to Mother Mary’s intercession, we built a grass-roofed grotto of Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal at the garden.
We have promised ourselves (and Mother Mary) that we would start running the place for day recollections and wholeness seminars in support of patients and families coping with cancer.
The problem is that we would stay in the garden for a few days, then we would stay in our comfortable suburban home for a month. When we go back to the garden, the weeds would be tall and the flowers would be dying. We would clean up, then leave again…
We have been praying fervently for the grace to make the complete move from our suburban house to the garden where it is cool and breezy, and where the mission of bringing Mother Mary to this part of the world and organizing a cancer support center await us.
Last week, we spent four quiet days in the garden. We knew in our hearts that despite the inconveniences of farm living, we are ready to move and to commit to the mission.
We don’t know exactly when we’ll make the move. All we know is that we are putting ourselves at the Father’s disposal as workers in His vineyard. If it be the Father’s will, we shall soon say a grateful goodbye to our present house and say a joyful hello to our new garden home!