A boy’s story, a prayer for senior citizens

I was rummaging through piles of clippings and came upon a touching piece written by a little boy who I knew too well.

The little boy’s story jibed with the spirit of the season, so I thought I should reprint it. 

Papa Came Back

Papa and Mama were going to the city. Papa’s ailing heart had been worsening and the doctor advised him to consult a specialist. Papa had been reluctant to go but after much prodding by Mama, he finally agreed.

“We will be away for about four weeks,” Mama told us.

“Four weeks?” I sighed. “Why that long?”

I was the youngest child in the family and I was seven years old at that time. It would be the first time that my parents would be away that long. Imagine four weeks without them around!

Mama motioned me to stop asking questions and to keep silent because she was busy preparing their things and that Papa was asleep.

I picked up my toys and noiselessly walked toward Papa’s bed. With his eyes closed, there seemed to be no color in his face. Bedridden for more than one week, he had grown pale; his cheeks on which I would plant kisses were shrunken. The smile that always hugged his lips was gone. The sight of Papa made me cry.

Gently, I touched his cold cheek with my lips. Papa opened his eyes and forced a smile.

“I will sleep with you tonight,” I said. “You will be away for four weeks. I will be lonely. I will miss you. Please come home at once, ha, Papa?”

In a choked voice, he replied, “Of course, I will. He wiped my tears and ran his fingers through my hair. “I promise to come back no matter what happens.”

The next day, Papa and Mama left. We children were left in the care of Aunt Merced. The following days proved to be lonely and empty. I did not like to play. I was envious of my friend whenever I saw him sitting on the lap of his Daddy who gave him chocolates and toys.

In the afternoon, I would sit with my brother and sister by the window and watch the sun sink into the golden horizon. When dusk fell, we became terribly sad. Then, we would cry quietly until Aunt Merced came to entertain us with her unfunny jokes and when we didn’t stop crying, she cried with us.

Two weeks passed. One day, a telegram came. Aunt Merced told us that Papa and Mama were coming home. We were so happy. I started to play again, and so did my brother and sister. But Aunt Merced looked sad.

Papa and Mama arrived three days later. Mama came out of the motorboat first and hugged each of us. Then, she broke into a loud cry. Aunt Merced and our neighbors were crying, too. Everybody was crying.

Then, a huge, grey box was carried out of the motorboat. I looked into it. Inside was Papa: so calm, so serene, so handsome.

Again and again, I looked at Papa. He seemed to be telling me, “Son, I have come back.”

He fulfilled his promise.

Are you a senior citizen? Read this

And here’s a piece (author not mentioned) contributed to Funfare by this paper’s contributing writer Edu Jarque who said that a friend passed it to him from somewhere else.

A Wonderful Prayer for those pushing 60 or beyond.

Almighty God you know that I am growing older.

Keep me from becoming too talkative, from repeating all my jokes and anecdotes, and particularly keep me from falling into the tiresome habit of expressing an opinion on every subject.

Release me from craving to straighten out everyone’s affairs. Keep my mind free from recital of endless details.

Give me wings to get to the point.

Give me the grace, dear GOD, to listen to others as they describe their aches and pains.

Help me endure the boredom with patience and keep my lips sealed, for my own aches and pains are increasing in number and intensity, and the pleasure of discussing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally, I might be mistaken. Keep me reasonably sweet.

I do not wish to be a saint (saints are so hard to live with), but a sour old person is the work of the devil.

Make me thoughtful, but not moody, helpful, but not pushy, independent, yet able to accept with graciousness favors that others wish to bestow on me.

Free me of the notion that simply because

I have lived a long time, I am wiser than

those who have not lived so long. I am older,

but not necessarily wiser!

If I do not approve of some of the changes that have taken place in recent years, give me the wisdom to keep my mouth shut.

GOD knows that when the end comes, I would like to have a friend or two left.

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