La-on and the 7-Headed Dragon

Retelling by: GABBY LEE and MARCY DANS LEE

Over the land and over the seas, there was a small kingdom in the East.
But nobody saw its beauty so grand for a seven-headed dragon guarded
the land. The problem with dragons is their big, bulging tummies. They’d
spew fire and smoke if they didn’t get their yummies. To make matters
worse, this dragon was picky. It ate only virgins, and that made it tricky.
Poor King Kabugnot could not rule anymore for feeding the dragon was a
horrible chore. The land was now dirty, the kingdom was broke, and
there were few virgins among the poor village folk. So King Kabugnot
looked all over his land and called all the virgins to lend him a hand.
With the king’s proclamation, not a woman could hide; and for this
dragon’s lunch, chose Marikit…the poor child! The people were sad.
Marikit paid the price. Saving the kingdom was a supreme sacrifice. With
hands tied and tears in her eyes, she went to the dragon, and offered her
life. But soon came the day the King truly feared: All the poor virgins in
his land had been cleared! King Kabugnot scratched his head as he
thought, “What should I do? In a corner I’m caught!” The poor king was
so troubled. Dragon’s food was so late. With a fish and an apple, he
begged it to wait. He was searching for food when, out of nowhere, a
skinny, young man was standing right there! La-on was no merchant, no
prince, no poor man, but he promised the king that he’d do what he can.
For Lao-on had the power of magic, not tricks. And the language of ants,
bees, and eagles he’d mix. They bided their time for a-SURPRISE
ATTACK! The bees stung the dragon’s tough, scaly back! The ants bit the
noses! The eagles pierced the eyes! Truly the battle was a sight…not so
nice. Now that the dragon was fully distracted, the brave La-on jumped
on his tummy and acted. He plunged his big bolo with a swift and sure
stroke until the great dragon gave its last fiery croak. And as we might
expect, La-on was hero at all. But he first paid the king a courtesy call.
He went to the palace with the head of the dragon, proving once and for
all that the terror was now gone. And as for the dragon, its body was
buried in the palace where it crashed (it couldn’t be carried). The densest
of forests surrounded the site, and slowly there rose a mountain of
fright! Now and then, the huge mountain would spew fire and smoke to
tell of this tale to all the townsfolk. It reminds us that goodness and
courage won’t fail, Mount Kanlaon is indeed a fine tale!
 Tight Times
Story by: JEANETTE C. PATINDOL
Mamang says these are tight times, so we’ve got to be tough. There’s no
use complaining, only good sense in being thankful for what we still can
have.
I used to have two eggs for breakfast. Now, I can have only one, and not
everyday at that. But I’m glad I still have eggs to eat.
I used to make my chocolate drink really chocolatey, with three heaping
spoonful of chocolate powder. Now, I can have only one spoonful a drink.
And not everyday at that, too. But I’m glad I still have chocolate to drink.
I eat my eggs slowly now, and drink my chocolate even more slowly. It is
strange how my chocolate and eggs taste yummier these days!
Papang says these are tight times, so we’ve got to be smart. Gold is not
out there; we’ve got to find it in here.
He lost his job. So he works inside the house instead--- fixing things,
cleaning things, and helping our neighbors fix their things, too.
When Mamang comes home from work, Papang puts her feet up on the
couch. While he kneads her feet, we bring her ice-cold water drink and
some rice cake to eat.
We used to go to the small every Saturday or Sunday. Now, we stay at
home instead and draw pictures, or play the guitar, or dance with
Mamang, or garden with Papang.
Today is Mamang’s birthday. Because we couldn’t buy her gifts, we made
our own gifts instead.
I drew a picture of her in a long, golden yellow gown, with sampaguitas
for a crown, and a big, red heart all around.
Manong strummed and sang her a song while Papang danced with her.
Papang twirled her around, then brought her up close, and held her
gently as Mamang clasped in her hand the bunch of sampaguitas
Papang gave her from his little plot of land.
Tiyay Gracia, our neighbor, knocked to thank Papang for fixing her
grocery store locks. She brought us some things, too---a birthday cake
for Mamang, a big pack of chocolate drink powder, and would you
believe, two dozen eggs?!
Day after day, it went on like that--- neighbors asking for help with fixing
their things and neighbors coming back, giving us things we lacked.
Day after day, we went on like that---finding the good in what we had,
being grateful for our blessings, and sharing the good with others.
Soon enough, the tight times were over. Papang found a better-paying
job. This time, he fixes people’s things right from our very own shop!
All Things Bright and Beautiful
by Cecil Frances Alexander

All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,

Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.

The rich man in his castle,

The poor man at his gate,
God made them high and lowly,
And ordered their estate.

The purple headed mountain,

The river running by,
The sunset and the morning,
That brightens up the sky;−

The cold wind in the winter,

The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,−
He made them every one.

The tall trees in the greenwood,

The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water,
We gather every day; −

He gave us eyes to see them,

And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty,
Who hath made all things well.

Sixth Grade Romance

 He wasn’t very bright
And not the least bit tall.
He won me when he said
He liked me more than all.

We held hands on the playground,

Sent love notes while on class.
He gave me a diamond ring
My mom said it’s cut glass

It ended with a bang.

When he kissed my best friend, Kelly
I got so fighting mad
I punched him in the belly.

Perhaps I’ll love again, someday.

But it hurts so much inside.
If I see him at school,
I want to run and hide.

I planned to sell my diamond

At the corner jewelry store,
But then it smashed to pieces
When I dropped it on the floor.
 Hymn to Labor
By Jose Rizal

Hail to labor! Blessed be it

For it brings our country wealth.
May we ever hold it sacred
‘Tis our country’s life and health.
If youth would win our favor
By his work should forth be shown.
Only he who toils and struggles
Will support and keep his own.

Show us then the way to labor

Guide our careless, wandering feet,
So that when our country needs us
We, who work may make complete.
And the old men then will call us
Children worthy of their sires!
For the dead are honored chiefly
By their sons whom worth inspires.
 The Arrow and the Song
By Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air

It fell to earth; I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air

It fell to earth I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong
That he can follow the flight of a song?

Long, long afterwards on an oak

I found the arrow still unbroken;
And the song from beginning to end
I found again in the heart of a friend.
 The Circus

Here’s a big, big circus tent

With seats on every side
Here ponies dance and prance around
While ladies on them ride.
Elephants come walking in
And swing their trunks just so
A monkey jumps on a zebra’s back
And tries to make him go.
A whistle blows, we turn to see
The clowns come tumbling in.

Chalky faces, noses long

Some very fat, some very thin
One turns backwards, somersaults
One rides a horseback,
One runs on tiny engine
That won’t stay on the track
In the tipmost of the great tent
Men swing on iron bars
And climb the ropes that stretch so high
They almost reach the stars.
 Awake

Awake! Awake!
Called the cock to the morn
The sun peeped out
A new day was born.

Awake! Awake!
Cried the sun in the sky
Every meadow flower
Opened a wonderful eye.

Awake! Awake!
Chirped the birds in the tree
The tree stirred and said,
“Who’s calling me?”

Awake! Awake!
Rang the bells in the steeple
Awake! Awake!
All you sleeping people.

One by one
They yawned and arose
Thanking the good God
For the night’s repose.
 The Moon is My Friend
Written by: CHIE LITIATCO-ACOSTA

The moon looks down on me.

She’s smiling oh-so-playfully.
Wispy clouds pass over her face.
We play peek-a-boo for a few days.
The moon looks down on me,
We laugh together merrily.
The sky is clear and the night is warm
As we dance with the friendly stars.
The moon looks down on me.
The biggest cheese I ever did see!
Near the slowly darkening horizon,
She sings a joyful evening song.
The moon looks down on me,
Beaming with pure and utter glee.
She’s big and round and really bright.
How she lights up the sky at night!
The moon is my friend and so much more,
Things of magic and wonder
I’ve never seen before!
Tonight, I look up at the moon
From the window of my sleepy bedroom.
I see a floating bagful of goodies,
Leaving a trail of candies and cookies.
Tonight, I look up at the moon
And get ready with my fork and spoon.
For what a tasty sight, looming on high
Is a leftover half-eaten pie!
Tonight, I look up at the moon
And an adventure I go pretty soon.
I try to catch shooting stars rushing by
On a boat rocking in the big, black sky.
Tonight I look up…where is the moon?
I look and look and look…
Is she sleeping?
Is she hiding?
Where could she be?
For now, I’ll miss her terribly…
But she’ll be back again soon, you’ll see.
 When Zero Left the Number Land
Story by: MAITA SONGCO SALVADOR

In a magical place called Number Land, Lived ten numbers, hand

in hand. Together, they stayed, they laughed, and they played.
They danced and sang songs like nothing could go wrong. Until
one November day, number nine came to say, “What’s so special
about Zero? He’s the lowest of the low. Can he be good for
something when he actually means nothing?” Nine knew that
Eight had heard everything that she had said. Eight then told
number Seven, Seven told number Six. My goodness, won’t the
numbers be in such a terrible fix? Six told Five who told Four,
who later told even more as Three told Two, and Two told One,
who knew just what had to be done. To Zero, he whispered the
news he had heard. With a sad, heavy heart, poor Zero packed
up his bags and chose to go. He walked and he walked, left no
room for talk, for he wanted to find a place to unwind. As he
walked, he soon found a road heading downtown until by a street
sign he stood. It said “Alphabet Neighborhood.” It was there that
he met the letter of the alphabet. From Ardent A to Zealous Z,
they all looked at Zero quite oddly, So Zero told them this story of
his, “I was part of a family like this. But I felt out of place, so I
just left in haste. Do you think that I could live in your
neighborhood? Become part of the Alphabet? I am good, you can
bet!” So the group held a council atop Alphabet Hill. They decided
to put matter to a vote. And it seemed that there would be one
big resounding note. Yes, it’s true, it’s true indeed. Almost all of
them agreed, except dear old Opposing O who passionately said,
“Oh no, no, no!” “ O me, oh my, why should I say yes to giving
him a try? He looks like me, isn’t that queer? How can we think
of having him here?” And so our poor little Zero once again had
to go. Once again, he must roam---find a place he’d call home. He
had just shed a tear when an old friend appeared. “You were
missed, my dear friend! Won’t you come home again? Without
you, everyone says, ‘Number land is now a mess!’ For we can’t
count anymore, not the way we did before.” “We can’t count
beyond Nine, we just can’t cross the line. And so please, if you
can come back home to our land. Would you please, please,
please, take this white flag of peace?” “There’s no need to say
more, we have settled the score. I’ll go back to our friends, to
count again, without end.” So the pair then began their trip
home, hand in hand. With a hoot and a shout, they took that old
route like a small marching troop back to where they’d regroup.

Don’t Quit
An inspiring poem by Edgar Guest

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

And the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than it seems

To a faint and faltering man.
Often the struggler has given up when he
Might have captured the victor's cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out,

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems afar.
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit.
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.