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Onofre Poonin

Guideposts Magazine

Tell Your Story

June 7, 2008

Faith, Prayer and Toil:

The Ultimate Process In Dealing With Difficult Situation

I was a former Consular Investigator of the U.S. Embassy in Manila who worked with

the Anti-Fraud Unit for more than a decade, until such time that I met an awful vehicular

accident that resulted to my separation from the service. The mishap happened when I and my

driver-colleague, Homer, were traveling back home to Manila after completing our background

investigations in the far away province of Camarines Norte in Bicol region. While running in a

moderate speed along the winding road of Maharlika Hi-way within the vicinity of Barangay

Tigbinan, the vehicle suddenly went out of control and skidded right down the approximately

50 to 60-foot deep ravine. I was not sure whether I was scared in the face of my imminent

death, but I supposed it was just a shocking reaction that I did nothing but to shut my eyes in

terror, tensed all my muscles in anticipation of my broken cadaver, and for a split second,

flashed back the memory of my good old days with my beloved family, while the vehicle was

rapidly flying into the air and down the bed of the narrow valley.

Thank God I was alive!... I mean, my driver and I were both alive, with only simple

bruises and no broken bones. Perhaps it’s because of the safety belts we wore at that time, and

perhaps because the narrow valley bed to where the vehicle tripped up right-side down, was

soft enough to bear the impact of the crash.

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 But that was a mere continuation of our misfortune. The embassy charged us of several

violations in connection with that accident; one of which was the so-called “reckless driving

resulting to damage to vehicle” (“U.S. Embassy Handbook for Filipino Employees” 6). This

was done so despite the fact that I was not the one driving the vehicle. The grievance

committee panel argued that I ranked senior in the trip and therefore, responsible for

maintenance and protection of the official car. Despite my two Meritorious Honor Awards,

several official recognitions for my loyalty to the interest of the diplomatic mission, and Public

Attorney’s supported appeal for reconsideration, I finally found myself being terminated from

the service for cause (“Notice of Termination” 1992).

Probably I could have done wrong somehow, but my spirit denied acceptance of any

guilt. All I knew was that I enjoyed working with the embassy, with beautiful people around me

and all those challenging assignments that I love so much, that’s why I did my job very well,

and I did it with all my heart, my life and my soul, for my own glory and for the interest of the

service. But such redundant car accident totally erased my dreams, suddenly refrained myself

to keep on going, and most of all, severely affecting the future of my children. Homer, my

colleague, probably in total desperation, got sick and subsequently met his untimely death. But

I was still fighting back. I’ve always wanted to keep alive. I didn’t want to be completely

discouraged by this emotional trial and finally say farewell to the world in such a younger age

of 40’s, while leaving my bereaved family in future uncertainty. If we succumb to poverty, so

be it! We shall be joined together in good times and bad times.

And bad times did occur. Our imminent economic shortage was compounded by

ailment of my two younger kids. Still fresh from being separated from the service, my two-

year-old child, Maybel, and my eight-year-old son, Bimbo, suffered serious Dengue fever and

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both were rushed to the nearby hospital at the wee hour of the night. The kids suffered a lot of

pain. Each had a plastic small pipe inserted into their noses so as to flow out rotten dirt that

looked like black decomposing human particles coming from their stomach - aside from

several hoses of dextrose injected into different part of their skin. The worst, the kids were not

allowed to take any food or liquid and this punishment went on for several days. Maybel whom

I loved the most, was despondently wondering over my refusal to give her something to eat

despite her repeated clamor for food.

My heart was melting! It was the most challenging moment in my life. Both kids were

in 50-50 condition and I was not so sure whether I could bear acceptance that they might finally

be leaving us for good.

In my state of hopelessness, I appealed to the Lord harder and ever and without let-up,

to spare my kids from the toil of death and to send them hasty recovery instead. Then I

suddenly felt a strange spirit that crept into mine, more burning than the spirit of brandy that I

consumed awhile ago to reinforce my emotional strength. It was a splendid feeling I’ve never

felt before. And as I rushed back to the hospital, I found my children in peaceful condition, my

wife had refrained from crying, and the doctors and nurses were at their normal faces.

The children were recuperating fast! God did not totally forsake us! He still had a

gracious heart for us to be heard of and for us to ask for forgiveness. Amen.

What process could be better than seeking the convivial arms of the Divine Providence

at times of trouble and at times when one had sorted to all recourses but they didn’t seem to

work at all? Anything beyond the capability of man should be consigned into the custody of

the Lord. As Jesus said, “Come to Me all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give

you rest” (Matthew 11:28).