A Message To Sir Mark
The day you left, the heavens cried…today was just ironic. Seems like there is an everlasting downpour that signal the farewell of our beloved friend. Who is that friend? you might ask. Well, it’s no other than you Sir Mark. You who generously volunteered yourself for our sake. It’s you who spend countless of nights just to prepare your lesson plan just to make us learn more. How grateful I am that I met a teacher like you. Everyday, I am constantly waiting for the other subjects to pass by but when the clock strikes four, my eyes and ears are constantly glued on the words like ENGLISH, LITERATURE, and GRAMMAR which I actually enjoyed. In my life I have never enjoyed these subjects because my tongue and mind would always get twisted but in addition to a great teacher like you, I am now constantly waiting for it to be English time. Your way of teaching is out of this world. You make me and my other classmates learn and at the same time enjoy. How cool is that! Words can’t describe how thankful I am. If it was possible I would make a teleporter so that me and my classmates could teleport to Los Angeles to see you.
Sir Mark, GOD BLESS, FAREWELL, and THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES!
“My own place under the sun…”
The place where I came from is not of the most fanciest of houses with cemented walls and expensive floorings nor in a very extravagant subdivision whose houses are of large proportions. I just live in a small house located in Brgy. 43, Quarry, Tacloban City. This house, small it may seem, is very spacious inside and on this very house I was born.
On September 15, 1997, my mother Juliana Pagatpat gave birth to a healthy baby boy that was named Ceasar John, that’s me.
My father, Crispin Pagatpat had to work all day as a construction worker to support me and my older brother CJ in our day-to-day needs. We didn’t have much. Our meals everyday would always be vegetables and sometimes when my father returned home with his suweldo we would often go to “Jollibee” but that’s just once a year.
Our place is not out of the ordinary, it’s just a little house with plants surrounding it and a water pump just in front of it.
In our barangay I would always get bullied, people would often call me names and my house would always be the sheild to all of the knifes that were thrown at me. I would always run to my house whenever I would see any bullies approaching.
Besides our house is a small patch of ground with green, tall grasses growing all around it. This serves as our playground back then. Me and my friends would often jump into this thinking it was like a soft, cottony bed. We would sometimes end up lying in this patch of grass after we’d play.
Near to this is a water pump that our fellow neighbors use when there was no water. During hot days this would often serves as our little beach. Me and my friends would bring our pails and take a bath there. We would splash water at each other then after, get scolded by people for wetting their houses.
We had a blast back then, but now these places we used to go is now filled with garbages and is very dirty.
The river which runs through the barangay had fishes then and was safe for people to take baths but now, it is merely a soup of garbages and people’s wastes.
Even though I had bad memories in my childhood their were still more good things that I experienced back then and I am eternally thankful for that.
You know, I wasn’t the most clever in school. I was just an average boy who don’t want to end up with a 75 in his report card. Towards my success this serves us my inspiration and when I reach the top I certainly would not forget the place I came from.