4th Kannawidan Fest Final 

Schedule
Enero 31, – Pebrero 06, 2011
URNOS TI PARAMBAK
(Program of Activities)
ALDAW/ORAS PASPASAMAK LUGAR
Date/Time) (Event) (Venue)
I. Enero 31, 2011 St. Paul
(Lunes) MISA KONSELEBRADA Cathedral Msgr. Rory Reyes
5:00 Malem (Conselebrated Mass) Mario Ruelos
LIBUT (Mangngagas a Mario Ruelos, Ador
6:00 Rabii Pammati) Rojo
& Prov’l. Adm.
(Procession) Office
8:00 Rabii PANNANGAN TI SAPASAP Plaza Salcedo PA Vicky Cu
(Dinner for all)
LINGLINGAY TI RABII Plaza Salcedo PA Vicky Cu
(Evening Entertainment)
RIMAT TI TANGATANG Plaza Salcedo PA Vicky Cu
(Fireworks Display)
II. Febrero 01, 2011
(Martes)
Sango ti
9:00 Bigat PANGLUKAT A RITWAL Kapitolyo Shan Tumacdang
(Opening Ritual)
KANNAWIDAN NGA UG- Sango ti
UGALI Kapitolyo Shan Tumacdang
TI ILOCOS SUR
(Traditional tribal Rituals)
Plaza DTI, OPAG, PVET,
PARTUAT KEN PATANOR Encarnacion Fisheries
(Trade, Agri, Aqua & Livestock
Fair)
SALISAL DAGITI Sango ti DTI, OPAG, PVET,
NAISANGSANGAYAN Kapitolyo Fisheries
KEN DATDATLAG
(Agri, Aqua & Livestock Contest)
KINNANTAAN TI KORO TI Sango ti
ILOCOS Kapitolyo DepEd
(Prov’l Choir-Glee Club
Competition
Elementary & Secondary)
PABUYA TI DAAN/BARO A Palacio
11:00 Bigat LADAWAN Arzobispado Liz Agabin/TIPS
(Photo Exhibit)
PANANGILADAWAN TI Palacio Saturday Group
 KANNAWIDAN Arzobispado
BABAEN TI PINTURA
PANNAGTOKAR TI TAMBOL Sango ti
1:30 Malem KEN LIRA Kapitolyo DepEd
(Marching Band Competition)
(Elementary & Secondary)
NAKAUGALIAN A SALSALA ITI Sango ti
4:00 Malem KALSADA Kapitolyo DepEd
(Traditional Street Dancing-
Secondary)
KASIGLATAN NGA MANGAN Capitol
5:00 Malem KEN UMINOM Quadrangle PA Vicky Cu
(Eating & Drinking Contest)
6:00 Rabii RAMEN KEN RAMAN Plaza Salcedo ISHORE
(Food Fair)
Sango ti
8:00 Rabii SALSALA TI BAYANIHAN Kapitolyo ISHORE
(Bayanihan Dance Compay
Performance)
LAING KEN TALUGADING Sango ti
9:00 Rabii DAGITI SANIATA Kapitolyo ISHORE
(Ms. Saniata Talent Portion)
III. Pebrero 02, 2011
(Miyerkules)
PANANGSANAY TI
8:00 Bigat – 3:00 Malem BAYANIHAN Kapitolyo ISHORE
(Bayanihan Workshop)
NAKAINSIGUDAN NGA Sango ti
9:00 Bigat KANKANTA Kapitolyo DepEd
KEN UG-UGALI
(Traditional Music Ensemble)
SALA KEN KANKANTA Sango ti
BABAEN TI DRAMA Kapitolyo DepEd
(Dance Drama Contest)
Elementary & Secondary
NAKAUGALIAN A SALA ITI Sango ti
ILOCOS Kapitolyo DepEd
(Traditional Folk Dance-Elem &
Sec)
SALSALA TI AGDAMA A Sango ti
HENERASYON Kapitolyo DepEd
(Contemporary Dance- Elem &
Sec)
Sango ti
6:00 Rabii PANAGSUKIMAT TI TALENTO Kapitolyo NBN
(Talent Search)
 RAY-AW KEN LINGLINGAY TI Sango ti
9:00 Rabii ARTISTA Kapitolyo PA Vicky Cu
(Guest Artist Show) VM Ryan Singson
IV. Pebrero 03, 2011
(Huwebes)
Capitol
8:00 Bigat KINASIGLAT Quadrangle DTI
(Delphic Games-Crafts Demo &
Most Innovative Products)
KANNAWIDAN NGA UG- Sango ti
UGALI TI I. SUR Kapitolyo Shan Tumacdang
(Traditional Rituals of Ilocos
Sur)
TORNEO TI CHESS Kapitolyo Jun Almazan
(Chess Tournament)
PAMMADAYAW KADAGITI
1:30 Malem NASISIGLAT CAP Building SIGLAT Committee
(Siglat Awards & Recognition)
6:00 Rabii KADAANAN A PAGAN-ANAY Burgos Museum ISHORE
(Period Custome Party)
Sango ti
8:00 Rabii LIW-LIWA DAGITI ARTISTA Kapitolyo PA Vicky Cu
(Guest Artist Show) VM Ryan Singson
V. Pebrero 04, 2011
(Biyernes)
7:00 Bigat LUMBA TI NATAENGAN Govantes Dike Joy Concepcion
(Senior Citizens Fun Run)
SALISAL TI DISENYO KEN
PANAGPINTA Session Hall Ashley Martinez
(Painting/Design Contest)
SIGLAT ESKWELA AWARDS
2011
(Best Practices of School
Awards) Kapitolyo DepEd/Anne Morales
PAMMADAYAW KEN
7:00 Rabii PANANGBIGBIG
KADAGITI ANNAK TI ILOCOS
SUR Kapitolyo Hermie Bundoc
(Fr. J. Burgos Awards to
Illustrious
Sons & Daughters of Ilocos Sur
8:00 Rabii BANDA RITO BANDA ROON Plaza Salcedo Maricar Lagiwid
(Capitol Talent)
Sango ti
SALISAL TI BANDA Kapitolyo Gilbert Caro
(Battle of the Bands)
VI. Pebrero 05, 2011
(Sabado)
7:00 Bigat PATARAY TI KANNAWIDAN Metro Vigan Jun Almazan
(15KM Kannawidan Run)
PARADA TI NAGKAUNA A Sango ti
8:00 Bigat LUGLUGAN Kapitolyo Bong Savellano
(Parade/Display of Vintage
Cars, Jeeps & Bicycle
Liz Agabin & Malot
10:00 Bigat PAMMADAYAW KADAGITI Kapitolyo Ingel
NABIAG A TAGIPATGEN
(Living Treasure Award)
Sango ti
7:00 Rabii SANIATA TI ILOCOS SUR Kapitolyo ISHORE
(Ms. Saniata Pageant)
VII. Pebrero 06, 2011
(Domingo)
KANNAWIDAN NGA PAAY- Sango ti
8:00 Bigat AYAM Kapitolyo Agapito Pablico
(Traditional Games)
Quirino
1:00 Malem KARERA TI KABALYO Stadium Bong Savellano
(Horse Racing)
PAMMADAYAW KADAGUITI
1:30 Malem NAISANG- Kapitolyo PVO/OPAG/DTI
SANGAYAN KEN DATDATLAG
(Agri, Aua & Livestock Pinaka
Awards)
PAMMADAYAW TI SALISAL TI
6:00 Rabii ZARZUELA Kapitolyo Hermie Bundoc
(Zarzuela  Awards Night)
ZARZUELA ILOCANA – Sango ti
8:00 Rabii “Bituen” Kapitolyo Agapito Pablico
(Local Play)
Sango ti
10:00 Rabii BINGO Kapitolyo
Oratorical Pieces
Dirty Hands
I’m proud of my dirty hands.  Yes, they are dirty.  And they are  rough and knobby and
calloused.  And I’m proud of the dirt and the knobs and the calluses.  I didn’t get them that way
by playing bridge or drinking afternoon tea out of dainty cups, or playing the well-advertised
Good Samaritan at charity balls.

I got them that way by working with them, and I’m proud of the work and the dirt.  Why
shouldn’t I feel proud of the work they do – these dirty hands of mine?

My hands are the hands of plumbers, of truck drivers and street cleaners; of carpenters;
engineers, machinists and workers in steel.

They are not pretty hands, they are dirty and knobby and calloused. But they are strong hands,
hands that make so much that the world must have or die.

Someday, I think, the world should go down on its knees and kiss all the dirty hands of the
working world, as in the days long past, armored knights would kiss the hands of ladies fair.  I’m
proud of my dirty hands.  The world has kissed such hands.  The world will always kiss such
hands.  Men and women put reverent lips to the hands of Him who held the hammer and the saw
and the plane.  His weren’t pretty hands either when they chopped trees, dragged rough lumber,
and wielded carpenter’s tools. They were workingman’s hands – strong, capable proud hands. 
And weren’t pretty hands when the executioners got through them.  They were torn right clean
through by ugly nails, and the blood was running from them, and the edges of the wounds were
raw and dirty and swollen; and the joints were crooked and the fingers were horribly bent in a
mute appeal for love.

They weren’t pretty hands then, but, Oh God, they were beautiful – those hands of the Savior. 
I’m proud of those dirty hands, hands of my Savior, hands of God.

And I’m proud of my hands too, dirty hands, like the hands of my Savior, the Hands of my God!
I Am A Filipino
I am a Filipino – inheritor of a glorious past, hostage to the uncertain future. As such I must
prove equal to a two-fold task- the task of meeting my responsibility to the past, and the task of
performing my obligation to the future. I sprung from a hardy race – child of many generations
removed of ancient Malayan pioneers. Across the centuries, the memory comes rushing back to
me: of brown-skinned men putting out to sea in ships that were as frail as their hearts were stout.
Over the sea I see them come, borne upon the billowing wave and the whistling wind, carried
upon the mighty swell of hope- hope in the free abundance of new land that was to be their home
and their children’s forever.

This is the land they sought and found. Every inch of shore that their eyes first set upon, every
hill and mountain that beckoned to them with a green and purple invitation, every mile of rolling
plain that their view encompassed, every river and lake that promise a plentiful living and the
fruitfulness of commerce, is a hollowed spot to me.

By the strength of their hearts and hands, by every right of law, human and divine, this land and
all the appurtenances thereof – the black and fertile soil, the seas and lakes and rivers teeming
with fish, the forests with their inexhaustible wealth in wild life and timber, the mountains with
their bowels swollen with minerals – the whole of this rich and happy land has been, for
centuries without number, the land of my fathers. This land I received in trust from them and in
trust will pass it to my children, and so on until the world no more.

I am a Filipino. In my blood runs the immortal seed of heroes – seed that flowered down the
centuries in deeds of courage and defiance. In my veins yet pulses the same hot blood that sent
Lapulapu to battle against the alien foe that drove Diego Silang and Dagohoy into rebellion
against the foreign oppressor.

That seed is immortal. It is the self-same seed that flowered in the heart of Jose Rizal that
morning in Bagumbayan when a volley of shots put an end to all that was mortal of him and
made his spirit deathless forever; the same that flowered in the hearts of Bonifacio in
Balintawak, of Gergorio del Pilar at Tirad Pass, of Antonio Luna at Calumpit; that bloomed in
flowers of frustration in the sad heart of Emilio Aguinaldo at Palanan, and yet burst fourth
royally again in the proud heart of Manuel L. Quezon when he stood at last on the threshold of
ancient Malacañang Palace, in the symbolic act of possession and racial vindication.

The seed I bear within me is an immortal seed. It is the mark of my manhood, the symbol of
dignity as a human being. Like the seeds that were once buried in the tomb of Tutankhamen
many thousand years ago, it shall grow and flower and bear fruit again. It is the insigne of my
race, and my generation is but a stage in the unending search of my people for freedom and
happiness.

I am a Filipino, child of the marriage of the East and the West. The East, with its languor and
mysticism, its passivity and endurance, was my mother, and my sire was the West that came
thundering across the seas with the Cross and Sword and the Machine. I am of the East, an eager
participant in its struggles for liberation from the imperialist yoke. But I also know that the East
must awake from its centuried sleep, shape of the lethargy that has bound his limbs, and start
moving where destiny awaits.

For, I, too, am of the West, and the vigorous peoples of the West have destroyed forever the
peace and quiet that once were ours. I can no longer live, being apart from those world now
trembles to the roar of bomb and cannon shot. For no man and no nation is an island, but a part
of the main, there is no longer any East and West – only individuals and nations making those
momentous choices that are hinges upon which history resolves.

At the vanguard of progress in this part of the world I stand – a forlorn figure in the eyes of
some, but not one defeated and lost. For through the thick, interlacing branches of habit and
custom above me I have seen the light of the sun, and I know that it is good. I have seen the light
of justice and equality and freedom and my heart has been lifted by the vision of democracy, and
I shall not rest until my land and my people shall have been blessed by these, beyond the power
of any man or nation to subvert or destroy.

I am a Filipino, and this is my inheritance. What pledge shall I give that I may prove worthy of
my inheritance? I shall give the pledge that has come ringing down the corridors of the centuries,
and it shall be compounded of the joyous cries of my Malayan forebears when they first saw the
contours of this land loom before their eyes, of the battle cries that have resounded in every field
of combat from Mactan to Tirad pass, of the voices of my people when they sing:

                Land of the Morning,Child of the sun returning…Ne’er shall invaders trample thy
sacred shore.

Out of the lush green of these seven thousand isles, out of the heartstrings of sixteen million
people all vibrating to one song, I shall weave the mighty fabric of my pledge. Out of the songs
of the farmers at sunrise when they go to labor in the fields; out of the sweat of the hard-bitten
pioneers in Mal-ig and Koronadal; out of the silent endurance of stevedores at the piers and the
ominous grumbling of peasants Pampanga; out of the first cries of babies newly born and the
lullabies that mothers sing; out of the crashing of gears and the whine of turbines in the factories;
out of the crunch of ploughs upturning the earth; out of the limitless patience of teachers in the
classrooms and doctors in the clinics; out of the tramp of soldiers marching, I shall make the
pattern of my pledge:

        "I am a Filipino born of freedom and I shall not rest until freedom shall have been added
unto my inheritance – for myself and my children’s children – forever.
Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of
no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what
there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes
with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious
smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to
your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss.  Ask yourselves how this

gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our
waters and darken our land.  Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and
reconciliation?  Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called
in to win back our love?  Let us not deceive ourselves, sir.  These are the implements of war and
subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort.  I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this
martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission?  Can gentlemen assign any other
possible motive for it?  Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all
this accumulation of navies and armies?  No, sir, she has none.  They are meant for us: they can
be meant for no other.  They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the
British ministry has been so long forging.  And what have we to oppose to them?  Shall we try
argument?  Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer
upon the subject?  Nothing.  We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable;
but it has been all in vain.  Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication?  What terms
shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive
ourselves.  Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now
coming on.  We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated
ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of
the ministry and Parliament.  Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrance have produced
additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been
spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne!  In vain, after these things, may we indulge
the fond hope of peace and reconciliation.  There is no longer any room for hope.  If we wish to
be free– if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so
long contending–if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so
long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of
our contest shall be obtained–we must fight!  I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms
and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when
shall we be stronger?  Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally
disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house?  Shall we gather strength
by irresolution and inaction?  Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying
supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have
bound us hand and foot?  Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the
God of nature hath placed in our power.  The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of
liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our
enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone.  There is a just God
who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for
us.  The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave.  Besides,
sir, we have no election.  If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the
contest.  There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged!  Their clanking
may be heard on the plains of Boston!  The war is inevitable–and let it come!  I repeat it, sir, let
it come.

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter.  Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace– but there is no
peace.  The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears
the clash of resounding arms!  Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? 
What is it that gentlemen wish?  What would they have?  Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to
be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?  Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what
course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

 
I ACCUSE…
Whether you like it or not, you are sitting atop a time bomb.  Worst, you are taking lightly the
inescapable reality that it exist –  all because you have been lulled all these years into a belief
that everything is fine, just fine, thanks to a captive, intimidated and prostituted media.

So, on with that false sense of security, the serenity with which you have accepted the things
around you.  “It’s such a lovely landscape,” you say, “Join me, let’s bask under the sun.” before
it explodes you don’t say!

 In the meantime, the timing device ticks on, ticking off the seconds from the hour, until, with the
final countdown to zero, it is too late to avoid the explosion –  to elude the ugly truth, that we
have been gullible idiots all along, playing into the hands of sweet-talking demagogues with their
ready answers and empty promises.

But the signs could not have escaped you – they are so starkly real to be ignored, so intimately
linked with everyday life, yours and mine –  ours.  You could not have failed to notice them, or
while they bluntly portray the present, they are just as inseparably a part of your future and the
future of your children.

 Thus, before you, is a wide panoramic view of the suffering –  from want, from neglect, from
the indifference of those in whom the welfare of the people has been entrusted.  One wonders
how you can be so blind.

While no relief is in sight nor had been attempted in all seriousness and dedication, now here
comes again Mr. X with tongue in cheek, unabashed, and with all the theatrics at his command,
beguiling the electorate once more with his artifice, offering himself for another tenure of
incompetence, poor performance, and untrustworthiness in public office.  God! What have we
done that we should be visited by such a blight!

There really are people who simply do not know how much we endure them!

Meanwhile, the time-bomb ticks on and unless defused on time, we shall all be blown to
smithereens!

Just what is ailing us today?

Mr. X’s entry into the picture is illustrative of the callousness, the daring, and the atrocious
impudence of phonies, so thick-faced they are insensitive to the public condemnation of their
crimes and misdeeds.  These are the kinds who prey on a credulous electorate, then, before the
ink dries on their oaths of office, the kind who immediately maps out measures to the feast of
public funds!

Let us beware of such candidate, such kind of public servant, in the same way that one avoids a
plague!  Voting for him is simply calamitous for beneath that benign and smiling face is a
scheming mind bent on devious ways to enrich himself in office.  An octopus in human form has
tentacles reach deep into the farthest and tiniest crevices where the last centavo may be heard to
tingle, for there is nothing to satiate his avarice, there is nothing to satisfy his inordinate greed.  It
is time too, to realize that the hoary arms of this monster, fondling an armalite, cast a shadow
over our lives, our present and our future and those of our successors.  It is time, therefore, that
this candidate who begs for our votes should stand an accounting for his omissions, his dubious
accomplishments or the manner by which he conducted himself while in office – or in
committing his crimes.

Unhappily, the measure of a public official should be one at par with Caesar’s wife – above
suspicion.  I say, “unhappily” because Mr. X could hardly measure up to pur barest
expectations.  In fact, if he has any decency left in him, he should never have shown his face in
public for the shame and the ignominy he had placed on his name, and the ill-repute to which his
town had been made to bear, all because of a single scoundrel.

For once, let us vote for integrity in office, for performance and deportment beyond reproach, for
the honor of this town we all love.

For once let us join hands to vote for Mr. Y, and thus let prosperity be with us once more.  And
in one decisive stroke of rallying behind his leadership, let the time-bomb of disaster be
dismantled, with law and order, peace and progress restored under a benevolent God, supreme
once more over our land and fortunes!
Believe You Can Succeed And You Will
Success means many wonderful, positive things.  Success means personal prosperity:  a fine
home, vacations, travel, new things, financial security, giving your children maximum
advantages, etc…   Success means winning admiration, leadership, being looked up to by people
in your business and social life.  Success means freedom:  freedom from worries, fears,
frustrations, and failure.  Success means self-respect, continually finding more real happiness
and satisfaction from life, being able to do more for those who depend on you.

Success means winning!

Success-achievement is the goal of life!

Every human being wants success.  Everybody wants the best this life can deliver.  Nobody
enjoys crawling, living in mediocrity.  No one likes feeling second-class and feeling forced to go
that way.

Some of the most practical success-building wisdom is found in that Biblical quotation stating
that ‘faith can move mountains.’  Believe, really believe, that you can move a mountain and you
can!  Not many people believe that they can move mountains.  So, as a result, not many people
do.

On some occasion you’ve probably heard some say something like, “it’s nonsense to think you
can make a mountain, move away.’  It’s simply impossible.”

People who think this way have belief confused with wishful thinking.  And true enough, you
can’t wish away a mountain.  You can’t wish yourself into an executive suite.  Nor can you wish
yourself into a five-bedroom, three-bath house or the high-income brackets.  You can’t wish
yourself into a position of leadership.

But you can move a mountain with belief.  You can win success by believing you can succeed. 
There is nothing neither magical nor mystical about the power of belief.

Belief works this way.  Belief, the “I’m positive-I-can” attitude, generates the power, skill, and
energy needed to do.  When you believe I-can-do-it, the how-to-do-it develops.

Everyday all over the world, young people start working in new jobs.  Each of them “wishes”
that someday he could enjoy the success that goes by reaching the top.  But the majority of these
young people simply don’t have the belief that it takes the top rungs.  And they don’t reach the
top.  Believing it’s impossible to climb high, they do not discover the steps that lead to great
heights.  Their behavior remains that of the “average” person.

But a small number of these young people really believe they will succeed.  They approach their
work with the “I’m going-to-the-top” attitude.  And with substantial belief they reach the top. 
Believing they will succeed – and that it’s not impossible – these folks study and observe the
behavior of senior executives.  They learn how successful people approach problems and make
decisions.  They observe the attitudes of successful people.

Those who believe they can move mountains, do.  Those who believe that they can’t, cannot. 
Belief triggers the power to do.  Belief in great results is the driving force, the power behind all
great books, plays, scientific discoveries.  Belief in success is behind every successful business,
church, and political organization.  Belief in success is the one basic, absolutely essential
ingredient in successful people.

Believe, really believe, you can succeed and you will!

Declamation Pieces
Am I to be Blamed
They’re chasing me, they’re chasing, no they must not catch me, I have enough money now, yes
enough for my starving mother and brothers.

Please let me go, let me go home before you imprisoned me. Very well, officers? take me to your
headquarters. Good morning captain! no captain, you are mistaken, I was once a good girl, just
like the rest of you here. Just like any of your daughters. But time was, when I was reared in
slums. But we lived honestly, we lived honestly in life. My, father, mother, brothers, sisters and
I. But then, poverty enters the portals of our home. My father became jobless, my mother got ill.
The small savings that my mother had kept for our expenses were spent. All for our daily needs
and her needed medicine.

One night, my father went out, telling us that he would come back in a few minutes with plenty
of foods and money, but that was the last time I saw him. He went with another woman. If only I
could lay my hands on his neck I would wring it without pain until he breaths no more. If you
were in my place, you’ll do it, won’t you Captain? What? you won’t still believe in me?. Come
and I’ll show you a dilapidated shanty by a railroad.

Mother, mother I’m home, mother? mother?!. There Captain, see my dead mother. Captain?
there are tears in your eyes? now pack this stolen money and return it to the owner. What good
would this do to my mother now? she’s already gone! Do you hear me? she’s already gone. Am I
to be blamed for the things I have done?
Vengeance Is Not Ours, It’s God’s
Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy.  I am a child so young, so
thin, and so ragged.Why are you staring at me?  With my eyes I cannot see but I know that you
are all staring at me. Why are you whispering to one another? Why? Do you know my mother?
Do you know my father? Did you know me five years ago?

Yes, five years of bitterness have passed. I can still remember the vast happiness mother and I
shared with each other. We were very happy indeed.

Suddenly, five loud knocks were heard on the door and a deep silence ensued. Did the cruel
Nippon’s discover our peaceful home? Mother ran to Father’s side pleading. “Please, Luis, hide
in the cellar, there in the cellar where they cannot find you,” I pulled my father’s arm but he did
not move. It seemed as though his feet were glued to the floor.

The door went “bang” and before us five ugly beasts came barging in. “Are you Captain Luis
Santos?” roared the ugliest of them all. “Yes,” said my father. “You are under arrest,” said one of
the beasts. They pulled father roughly away from us. Father was not given a chance to bid us
goodbye.

We followed them mile after mile. We were hungry and thirsty. We saw group of Japanese
eating. Oh, how our mouths watered seeing the delicious fruits they were eating,

Then suddenly, we heard a voice call, “Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . . Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . .

Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . .” we ran towards the direction of the voice, but it was too late. We saw
father hanging on a tree. . . . dead. Oh, it was terrible. He had been badly beaten before he
died. . . . and I cried vengeance, vengeance, vengeance! Everything went black. The next thing I
knew I was nursing my poor invalid mother.

One day, we heard the church bell ringing “ding-dong, ding-dong!” It was a sign for us to find a
shelter in our hide-out, but I could not leave my invalid mother, I tried to show her the way to the
hide-out.

Suddenly, bombs started falling; airplanes were roaring overhead, canyons were firing from
everywhere. “Boom, boom, boom, boom!” Mother was hit. Her legs were shattered into pieces. I
took her gently in my arms and cried, “I’ll have vengeance, vengeance!” “No, Oscar. Vengeance,
it’s God’s,” said mother.

But I cried out vengeance. I was like a pent-up volcano. “Vengeance is mine not the Lord’s”.
“No, Oscar. Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s” these were the words from my mother before she
died.

Mother was dead and I was blind. Vengeance is not ours? To forgive is divine but vengeance is
sweeter.  That was five years ago, five years. . . .
Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a child so young, so
thin, and so ragged. Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s. . . . It’s. . . . God’s. . It’s…
I Demand Death
My hands are wet with blood. They are crimsoned with the blood of a man I have just killed.
I have come here today to confess. I have committed murder, deliberate, premeditated murder. I
have killed a man in cold blood. That man is my master.
I am here not to ask for pity but for justice.  Simple, elementary justice. I am a tenant… My
father was a tenant before me and so was his father before him. This misery is my inheritance
and perhaps this will be my legacy to my children.

I have labored on a patch of land not mine. But I have learned to love that land, for it is the only
thing that lies between me and complete destitution.
It is the only world that I have learned to cherish. And somewhere on that land I have managed
to build what is now the dilapidated nipa shack that has been home to me.

I have but a few world possessions, mostly rags. My debts are heavy. They are sum total of my
ignorance and the inspired arithmetic of my master, which I do not understand.
I labor like a slave and out of the fruits of that labor I get but a mere pittance for a share. And I
have to stretch that mere pittance to keep myself and my family alive.

My poverty has reduced me to the bare necessities of life. And the constant fear of rejection from
the land has made me totally subservient to my master. You tell me that under the constitution, I
am a free man-free to do what I believe is just, free to do what I think is right, and free to
worship God according to the dictate of my conscience. But I do not understand the meaning of
all these for I have never known freedom. I have always obeyed the wishes of my master out of
fear. I have always regarded myself as no better than a slave to the man who owns the land on
which I live.  I do not ask you to forgive me nor to mitigate my crime.  I have taken the law into
my own hands, and I must pay for it in atonement.
But kill this system. Kill this system and you kill despotism.  Kill this system and you kill
slavery.  Kill this despotism and you set the human soul to liberty and freedom.  Kill this slavery
and you release the human spirit into happiness and contentment.  For the cause of human
liberty, of human happiness and contentment, thousands and even millions have died and will
continue to die.

Mine is only one life.  Take me if you must but let it be a sacrifice to the cause which countless
others have been given before and will be given again and again, until the oppressive economic
system has completely perished, until the sons of toil have been liberated from enslavement, and
until man has been fully restored to decency and self respect.

You tell me of the right to life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But I have known no
rights, only obligations; I have known no happiness; only despair in the encumbered existence
that has always been my lot.

My dear friend, I am a peace-loving citizen. I have nothing but love for my fellowmen. And yet,
why did I kill this man?  It is because he was the symbol of an economic system which has made
him and me what we are: He, a master, and I, a slave.
Out of a deliberate design I killed him because I could no longer stand this life of constant fear
and being a servant. I could no longer suffer the thought of being perpetually a slave.

I committed the murder as an abject lesson.  I want to blow that spelled the death of my master to
be a death blow to the institution of the economic slavery which shamelessly exists in the bright
sunlight of freedom that is guaranteed by the constitution to every man.  My dear friend: I do
anguish from the weak and helpless and has laid upon the back of the ignorant labor burdens that
are too heavy to be borne, I demand death!

To this callous system of exploitation that has tightened the fetters of perpetual bondage in the
hands of thousands, and has killed the spirit of freedom in the hearts of men, I demand death.

To this oppression that has denied liberty to the free and unbounded children of God, I
DEMAND DEATH!
Juvenile Delinquent
Am I a juvenile delinquent? I’m a teenager, I’m young, young at heart in mind. In this position,
I’m carefree, I enjoy doing nothing but to drink the wine of pleasure. I seldom go to school,
nobody cares!. But instead you can see me roaming around. Standing at the nearby canto (street).
Or else standing beside a jukebox stand playing the nerve tickling bugaloo.Those are the reasons,
why people, you branded me delinquent, a juvenile delinquent.

My parents ignored me, my teachers sneered at me and my friends, they neglected me. One night
I asked my mother to teach me how to appreciate the values in life. Would you care what she
told me? "Stop bothering me! Can’t you see? I had to dress up for my mahjong session, some
other time my child". I turned to my father to console me, but, what a wonderful thing he told
me. "Child, here’s 500 bucks, get it and enjou yourself, go and ask your teachers that question".

And in school, I heard nothing but the echoes of the voices of my teachers torturing me with
these words. "Why waste your time in studying, you can’t even divide 100 by 5! Go home and
plant sweet potatoes".

I may have the looks of Audrey Hepburn, the calmly voice of Nathalie Cole. But that’s not what
you can see in me. Here’s a young girl who needs counsel to enlighten her way and guidance to
strenghten her life into contentment.

Honorable judge, friends and teachers…is this the girl whom you commented a juvenile
delinquent?.
A Glass of Cold Water
Everybody calls me young, beautiful, wonderful. Am I? Look at my hair, my lips, my red rosy
cheeks and a pair of blinkering eyes.

I remember, somebody says that I look like my mother that I look like my mother. But that when
she was young.

Now, I am much lovelier than she is. I’m a mortal Venus. Oops! What time is it? I must get
ready for the party!

Beep-beep…!A-huh! Here they are! Yes, I’m coming!

"Child, are you still there?"

"Hmp! That’s my mama"

"Child, are you still there? Will you please get me a glass of cold water?"

"Mama, I’m in a hurry!"

"Please child, try to get me a glass of cold water."

"Mama, please, try to get it on your own."

"Please child, try to get me a glass of cold water!"

At the party, I danced and danced the whole night.

You see, I can’t leave the party at once. I have to danced with everybody who proposed to me.
At last, the party is over. I’m very tired. Very, very tired.

So, I went home to tell mama what happened.

"Mama, I’m home! It’s very quiet. "Mama, I’m home!" Nobody answers.

Where is she? I look for her in the sala, but she’s not there. Where is she? A-huh! In the kitchen!

I saw my mama, lying down on the floor, dead. With a glass on her hand. I remember, she tried
to get it.

Oh, God, just for the glass of cold water! Mama! Mama! Oh, Mama!
Tongue Twisters
Short

1. I saw Susie sitting in a shoe shine shop.

Where she sits she shines, and where she shines she sits.

2. How can a clam cram in a clean cream can?

3. Send toast to ten tense stout saints' ten tall tents.

4. The thirty-three thieves thought that they thrilled the throne throughout Thursday.

5. Can you can a can as a canner can can a can?

6. Seth at Sainsbury's sells thick socks.

7. Roberta ran rings around the Roman ruins.

8. Clean clams crammed in clean cans.

9. Six sick hicks nick six slick bricks with picks and sticks.

10. I wish to wish the wish you wish to wish, but if you wish the wish the witch wishes, I
won't wish the wish you wish to wish.

11. Picky people pick Peter Pan Peanut-Butter, 'tis the peanut-butter picky people pick.

12. If Stu chews shoes, should Stu choose the shoes he chews?

13. Santa's Short Suit Shrunk

14. Six sleek swans swam swiftly southwards

15. Willy's real rear wheel

Long

1. Denise sees the fleece,

Denise sees the fleas.
At least Denise could sneeze
and feed and freeze the fleas.

2. Something in a thirty-acre thermal thicket of thorns and thistles thumped and thundered
threatening the three-D thoughts of Matthew the thug - although, theatrically, it was only
the thirteen-thousand thistles and thorns through the underneath of his thigh that the thirty
year old thug thought of that morning.

3. There was a fisherman named Fisher

who fished for some fish in a fissure.
Till a fish with a grin,
pulled the fisherman in.
Now they're fishing the fissure for Fisher.

4. To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark dock,

In a pestilential prison, with a life-long lock,
Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock,
From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!
To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark dock,
In a pestilential prison, with a life-long lock,
Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock,
From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!
A dull, dark dock, a life-long lock,
A short, sharp shock, a big black block!
To sit in solemn silence in a pestilential prison,
And awaiting the sensation
From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!

5. Luke Luck likes lakes.

Luke's duck likes lakes.
Luke Luck licks lakes.
Luck's duck licks lakes.
Duck takes licks in lakes Luke Luck likes.
Luke Luck takes licks in lakes duck likes.

6. Did Dick Pickens prick his pinkie pickling cheap cling peaches in an inch of Pinch or
framing his famed French finch photos?
7. How many cookies could a good cook cook If a good cook could cook cookies? A good
cook could cook as much cookies as a good cook who could cook cookies.

8. How much wood could Chuck Woods' woodchuck chuck, if Chuck Woods' woodchuck
could and would chuck wood? If Chuck Woods' woodchuck could and would chuck
wood, how much wood could and would Chuck Woods' woodchuck chuck? Chuck
Woods' woodchuck would chuck, he would, as much as he could, and chuck as much
wood as any woodchuck would, if a woodchuck could and would chuck wood.

9. Mary Mac's mother's making Mary Mac marry me.

My mother's making me marry Mary Mac.
Will I always be so Merry when Mary's taking care of me?
Will I always be so merry when I marry Mary Mac?

10. Through three cheese trees three free fleas flew.

While these fleas flew, freezy breeze blew.
Freezy breeze made these three trees freeze.
Freezy trees made these trees' cheese freeze.
That's what made these three free fleas sneeze.
Memory Verses
 Psalms 101:3a

I will set before my eyes no vile thing. The deeds of faithless men I hate; they will not cling to
me.

Matthew 6:22-23

The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But
if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is
darkness, how great is that darkness!

1 Timothy 1:5
The goal of this command is love, which comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a
sincere faith.

1 Peter 1:22

Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for
your brothers, love one another deeply, from the heart.

Galatians 5:19
The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery;

Colossians 3:5
Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity,
lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry.

Hebrews 11:25
He chose to be mistreated along with the people of God rather than to enjoy the pleasures of sin
for a short time.

Proverbs 14:12

There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death.

1 Thessalonians 4:3
It is God's will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality;

1 Thessalonians 4:7
For God did not call us to be impure, but to live a holy life.
1 Peter 1:15-16