I came to know by chance an old green turtle. On a cool summer n
ight one fine day, an old green turtle surfaced from the shores of the deep blue sea. Her teary eyes washed by the soothing waves of that great yonder. Hunchbacked by the years of burden and seemingly endless experiences, she inched her way to the familiar sands of yesterday.
Inch by inch, foot by foot, ever so slowly she carried her weight. Her tail marks and paw prints bore the signs of the arduous task. She came with a clear purpose and keen determination. Then she found that spot. How she found it? No one knows.
Beaks and paws she dug her hole. Then she laid her eggs and covered her nest. Dozens, hundreds of eggs were laid. I watched as she arduously covered her youngs with two feet of sands. Soon these eggs will hatch. Soon we see hundreds of little green turtles hurriedly rushing for that great ocean unmindful of the hovering and predating sea hawks. One by one they vanish into the dark – into the dangers of the unforgiving deep blue waters. Those who falter will be dinner for the hawks, crabs and groupers.
Where they go nobody knows. We are told that many would not survive. But we are also told that some would come back to this shore again to breed and leave their marks. Then it becomes a cycle. That great old green turtle will live to be 50, perhaps a hundred – perhaps a hundred and fifty. Who knows? But we definitely know that they would come again and again. What are their stories? We could tell from the marks on their shells.
Like the little green turtles, we rushed to shore right after graduation. We braved the waves and swam the tides unmindful of the dangers ahead. Indeed we answered the calling because we have a destiny to meet. All of us, graduates, were given the same starting blocks. Where the finish line is, who will get there first, we really don’t know.
Like the little green turtles, many of us made it too. Our stories were etched on the markings of our shells stamped by time. Some were there fast; still others arrived to their dreams later. Others were not as lucky. Some of us didn’t make it to whatever dream we aim to achieve. Some of us were devoured by the unforgiving reality – predated by the systems not of our makings.
Those who made it always came back to the shores where they started. We came back for so many reasons but not to brag about our achievements. We come to share the secrets of these success; to talk about places we've been; to see old familiar faces. All those reasons are none-the-less nostalgic.
My story is not about success if measured up to certain financial standards. I say mine is about fulfillment. Am I materially and financially endowed right now? NO… Blessed with friends? A resounding “Yes.” Finding myself today, I am ever thankful to all of those who became part of my formative years in high school – teachers and friends. My batchmates and friends may have different stories. They too were once hatchlings like me.
For would-be alumni, I urge you to make your mark and leave a legacy worthy of a hero not only to this Institute but to your children and the whole country as well.
Cebu City Sayans Hay hosts hundreds of alumni who came back annually with one common purpose – to breed hope and be models for those little green turtles; perhaps for those who are still to be hatched. Then our alumni will leave again. They would live to be 50, perhaps a hundred – perhaps a hundred and fifty! Who knows? But we know that they would pay homage to these shores over and over again.
ight one fine day, an old green turtle surfaced from the shores of the deep blue sea. Her teary eyes washed by the soothing waves of that great yonder. Hunchbacked by the years of burden and seemingly endless experiences, she inched her way to the familiar sands of yesterday.Inch by inch, foot by foot, ever so slowly she carried her weight. Her tail marks and paw prints bore the signs of the arduous task. She came with a clear purpose and keen determination. Then she found that spot. How she found it? No one knows.
Beaks and paws she dug her hole. Then she laid her eggs and covered her nest. Dozens, hundreds of eggs were laid. I watched as she arduously covered her youngs with two feet of sands. Soon these eggs will hatch. Soon we see hundreds of little green turtles hurriedly rushing for that great ocean unmindful of the hovering and predating sea hawks. One by one they vanish into the dark – into the dangers of the unforgiving deep blue waters. Those who falter will be dinner for the hawks, crabs and groupers.
Where they go nobody knows. We are told that many would not survive. But we are also told that some would come back to this shore again to breed and leave their marks. Then it becomes a cycle. That great old green turtle will live to be 50, perhaps a hundred – perhaps a hundred and fifty. Who knows? But we definitely know that they would come again and again. What are their stories? We could tell from the marks on their shells.
Like the little green turtles, we rushed to shore right after graduation. We braved the waves and swam the tides unmindful of the dangers ahead. Indeed we answered the calling because we have a destiny to meet. All of us, graduates, were given the same starting blocks. Where the finish line is, who will get there first, we really don’t know.
Like the little green turtles, many of us made it too. Our stories were etched on the markings of our shells stamped by time. Some were there fast; still others arrived to their dreams later. Others were not as lucky. Some of us didn’t make it to whatever dream we aim to achieve. Some of us were devoured by the unforgiving reality – predated by the systems not of our makings.
Those who made it always came back to the shores where they started. We came back for so many reasons but not to brag about our achievements. We come to share the secrets of these success; to talk about places we've been; to see old familiar faces. All those reasons are none-the-less nostalgic.My story is not about success if measured up to certain financial standards. I say mine is about fulfillment. Am I materially and financially endowed right now? NO… Blessed with friends? A resounding “Yes.” Finding myself today, I am ever thankful to all of those who became part of my formative years in high school – teachers and friends. My batchmates and friends may have different stories. They too were once hatchlings like me.
For would-be alumni, I urge you to make your mark and leave a legacy worthy of a hero not only to this Institute but to your children and the whole country as well.
Cebu City Sayans Hay hosts hundreds of alumni who came back annually with one common purpose – to breed hope and be models for those little green turtles; perhaps for those who are still to be hatched. Then our alumni will leave again. They would live to be 50, perhaps a hundred – perhaps a hundred and fifty! Who knows? But we know that they would pay homage to these shores over and over again.
No comments:
Post a Comment