RIGHT PLACE

BEING at the right place at the right time spells success. No problem about that. Are we not all aspiring to be at the right place when the right time comes? Love stories are replete with this theme. And there are some simple stories too. Sometimes we are not conscious about it, but God puts anyone right on the spot, not only for one’s sake but for others’ as well.

It happened so pretty in my case a couple of weeks ago, and this I want to share.

Call it a coincidence also, or a sheer act of providence. But whatever it was, it saved my family from embarrassment, and (thank God) it saved our house and everything I have from the wrath of fire. Otherwise, every neighbor would point to my two sons, 11 and 9, as the culprits; and my wife and I were the ones to blame for being reckless.

Almost.

I was at the office that Friday morning during the summer break. My wife was with my daughter, our youngest, in a ballet school. That’s why my two sons were left at home; and in days like this, they were free to watch TV, or movies on DVDs, play with their collectible cards, as long as they do not go beyond the gate nor allow any of their playmates come inside the house. And except for the usual kalat (litters of toys, books, kiddie magazines, play cards) in their room and in the sala which vex their mother everytime she arrives home from the ballet school, the boys have been very responsible as they can already prepare their own meal and wash the dishes. It so happened that this particular day, a call came from a classmate of one of my sons: they were going to have a practice for the local church choir in which they were new recruits.

My aspiring singers had to go, so they coursed through their message to our good neighbor, my kumare (my daughter’s godmother), who at that time was supervising the repair of a leak off their restroom’s wall. My kumare texted my wife. My wife agreed, but first the boys had to have their lunch first, and after that they had to heat what would be left of the ginisang munggo so it will not be spoiled for the next meal.




So off my eager kids to their choir practice. They locked the door and the gate, and then gave the keys to my kumare. And as if in a cue, my kumare’s 6-year-old boy started to fidget with a stomach trouble and that he wanted sooo badly to relieve himself, but the repairman told him that they must wait for a few more hours or until tomorrow to be sure. But just like any 6-year-old who couldn’t endure when nature calls, the boy squirmed, as he was about to explode. After an hour or so my kumare texted my wife if she could just use our restroom. Being a very urgent case, my wife readily agreed.

It was when my kumare opened the main door of our house that she discovered the horrendous stench of a burning food in a metal pot. Smoke was emanating from the kitchen, almost engulfing the whole house. She found out that my kids, in their haste, forgot the pot of leftover they were heating, leaving the stove with flame unattended! It’s only a matter of time before the house would go pop and boom like a firecracker.

What if my kumare did not call for the man who repaired their CR that day, as she was supposed to do the repair on a Sunday? What if her son wouldn’t like to use our own CR and choose another neighbor’s house instead? What if he just felt fine that time of the day? What if…

At times I have been possessed by the belief that there are no such things as two or more circumstances without obvious causal connection, and that “everything happens for a reason.” I know there must be reasons for this near-tragic event, but by now, for whatever reason, my family is spared and I have something to be grateful to my kumare.

And sure, my kids had learned their lesson. When they poo, they can also use any neighbor’s restroom. Just kidding!