lukso ng dugo

i called a lot of numbers. i searched the yellow pages. i browsed the net.

a friend told me that i will never know if i have already found what i have been looking for if i do not mingle, if i do not give it a chance.

he said as long as the congregation doesn’t go against what i consider the absolute, then i should be there.

i insisted. i wanted to go home. and when i go home, no one can ask me to go to our neighbor’s house instead and reason out that “it’s the same, they are filipinos as well.”

i wanted to go back. back to my origin.

one early evening, i received that call. the moment he said “hello?” i wanted to cry.

you don’t have to meet him. you don’t have to know how he looks like. in fact, you don’t even have to know his name.

the instant you make a connection, you’ll know. you’ll know he is your brother because you came from the same tree, you share the same seed.

now i understand what filipinos call “lukso ng dugo.”