..frog's bones taught me to pray..

It was a summer, and I was then a freshmen student. While others are enjoying the sun, I am on the other hand swimming...among the notes and handouts of my Zoology class (that branch of Biology that deals with animals). I am not a tea-lover, but eversince I started jotting down notes about embryology and classification of what-he-said-about-that-fungi thing, my Auntie was happy that tea bags in the kitchen were consumed before the expiry date. I reminded myself that the Theory of Evolution is important in tracing the human development but I object with Charles Darwin whenever I look at myself at the mirror while stretching my arms to get some break. Apes can't do that, right? I mean, appreciating one's worth?haha And so the days went by with going to the class and smelling the formaldehyde from the cadaver just beside your table with scattered bones displayed around just to remind me that indeed, I am enrolled in a nursing school. I'm just wondering why I need to catch some slimy frogs and bring them to school while taking care not to let one jump out from the bottle in every brake of the public utility vehicle I'm riding in and at the end of the day, careful to learn how to make a cut on its chest with a scalpel and watching its lungs inflate right at your very eyes. Poor kero keroppi.

The bell rang which signaled that we should form a line for the practical test. I fall in line at the very front, since my cute teacher said it will be a random call anyway. I'm counting with my fingers the number of hours I'll sleep in luxury after all the "swimming" without water when my name was called-first. So that was a random....act of torture. "Arrange the frog bones in 2 minutes according to its anatomy. The whole class will get 10 points each to the total score if you can perfect the structure", my cute teacher told me. Ah, so this is a subtle type of emotional manipulation. And it was one moment I realized that my teacher was not that really cute at all. I moved forward, gave him my paper while my hands are sweating. I can hear some cheer from my back and to tell you, I can faint anytime by then. My 2 minutes started, and my hands are confused whether I'm holding the frog's lower limbs or upper limbs. How can I be sure when I do not use frog bones as my stuff toy. So I arranged, and re-arranged. The last piece I'm holding will determine if it's a make or break. I put the last part before my time is up, and surrender everything to faith.

I went out of the class and sat at the swing near the large mango tree at the parking lot. I remember my classmates who are still inside the torture room, making the most of their very best to earn the hard-to-get grades. I feel less tensed as the swing paced in rhythm. I grabbed the rosary in my pocket, and said the prayer under the shade of the mango tree. I don't know if my best was enough, but the only thing I asked was that all of us will pass the terror age of Zoology class. Afterall, no one wants to catch frogs and bring them to school..all over again. I waited for my friends, and my smile won't fade away when I was told that we all got a plus 10 points each. 

Faith has wings. Oftentimes, it is sharpened by prayer. Mine, at one point, was impelled by frog's bones. It taught me to pray-harder.=)

Be a F.R.O.G.--> Fully Rely On God.