Sr. Rosa M, RA shared these beautiful words her friend quoted from Mark Batterson,
“When GOD blesses you financially, don’t raise your standard of living. Raise your standard of GIVING.”
Our VISION is simply not to see children have an education. Rather, it is to see more children benefit from an Assumption Education. An education that is embedded on Christ-Centeredness and stamped with the values of simplicity and grateful giving.
Our MISSION is to engage everyone (we can) into SHARING even just a little but of their God in All Things. Not to undermine those who have made numerous financial contributions to different beneficiaries. We honor the goodness of your hearts in doing so (repeatedly).
Assumption Journals is not about one person, or two, or three. Assumption Journals is a UNIVERSAL contribution of the GOOD from everybody.
YOU who have adopted a journal, a tali, an Assumption X Labrador, a doll, plushies or a bag,… YOU have given more than just a few bills to the fund. YOU have given us the opportunity to share with your stories. Stories that will inspire and bring out the good in you and share the good to many.
And one way or another, that is what Assumption Journals is all about. To help bring out the GOOD in all aspects of life. There’s just too many things going on in the world that we cannot not just do something about it. Albeit being small, we hope that what we do will help even a few.
The Assumption Plaid Journal and Assumption Tali off to another walk with nature. Tagging along five rambunctious siblings, the parents, and symbols of their well-loved beagles.
Batanes welcomed this Plaid Journal with a warm swoosh and swish of the winds under the summer sun.
This was a journey overflowing with experiences. This was a journey overflowing with stories. This was a journey overflowing with gratitude.
Stepping out of the aircraft, we were greeted by a scene in Jurassic Park 3. Eyes round in wonder, we paused for a moment and looked up in awe of Mt. Iraya as it proudly welcomed us to the Home of the Winds. Driving out of the quaint Basco airport, the welcome extended to scenes of serene white butterflies flutter around the Batanes Pine Trees (Arius) in front of it.
PLAID JOURNAL: There couldn’t have been any better prologue for the stories borne of this journey.
My mother, when she was dying, said to me, “There are no wrong answers, Kris.”
She was speaking from the vantage point of someone who has nothing left to lose. Someone with the luxury of looking back on a life filled with worry about making the right choices and realizing, in the end, most of those choices become irrelevant.
I was torn between staying at her bedside and going back to Chicago to take care of my kids. I felt I did not have a choice. My kids needed me. I was the glue in our household. But my mother needed me also.
Recently, I was worrying about the right job, the right parenting, the right financial and life decisions. As I’m sure many of you do. Few of us are immune to trying to game the system for the best results.
I went to church on Good Friday. There’s something about the day and the season, about meditation, about sorrow and joy, death and rebirth. It’s always been one of my top – if not my top – holidays. Even for my advanced ADD, it helps to have a special frame and place where I can focus, if only for a few minutes at a time. Today, we were invited to sojourn and visit among artistic representations of the stations of the cross. And I could only make it to three of them before I was overloaded. One thought I had in particular centered around the station known as Jesus meeting the daughters of Jerusalem:
A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For…
1. You have three hairstyles: down, ponytail, and bun.
2. You have one pair of shoes that you wear with 95% of your wardrobe.
3. Most of your outfits are just some combination of t-shirts and jeans.
4. This makes getting ready massively easy. What are you going to wear? Throw on the first pair of jeans and t-shirt you can find. Put on aforementioned shoes. Boom. Done.
5. Sundresses are also great because they look like you put more effort into getting ready, but you definitely didn’t.
6. You have to be very clear with your hairstylist that you need a cut that’s easy to maintain, because you’re not about that life. Your idea of styling your hair is making sure the part is nice, and if you’re feeling fancy, throwing a clip or headband up there.
7. You find make up a little terrifying. You understand…
Here’s an excerpt from a speech given by Ms. Robina Gokongwei-Pe to the students of the UP School of Economics. Interesting insights on business, economics, and life as a Chinese-Filipino and entrepreneur in the Philippines:
The first theory is the ubiquitous law of supply and demand. The reason I failed to graduate from UP was that I was kidnapped on the way to school in September 1981, and guess what, right on the day I was supposed to take Prof. Canlas’ exams.
This is a story inspired by my recent discovery of the T’nalak weave. However, this story is not entirely about the T’nalak itself. If you type “T’nalak” on the search engine, it will probably give you many other blogs and websites that can better explain the true essence of the T’nalak.
A better title for this piece would be: Learning about the T’nalak and the stories surrounding it. Big emphasis on the word “stories.” I’m not fluent on the how, why, what, where of the T’nalak weave or the T’boli Tribe from Lake Sebu, Cotabato. But, surely, I may be able to share my own story of how I came across this great gift of culture and history! Besides, this is something that we should also be made aware of . So I’m sharing what I am learning and what I have learned. Though this is just a piece of the big puzzle.
All of us have probably heard of the T’boli Tribe from Cotabato, thanks to the (repetitive) projects we did for our Filipino subject in grade school. Or was that Hekasi?
Sometimes we take for granted the story, the history, of these gifted people. And in taking them for granted, we disregard the gifts they are able to offer us. Admittedly, my interest in history included mostly of what was generally known to many. It was only when I “substantially” grew up that I was able to develop a keen interest on things that I honest-to-goodness really like. This, without the pressure of society hounding on me relentlessly to take a liking to because apparently it is the so-called norm. This is one of the more eccentric hobbies I have. Haha
Last year, while rummaging through the world of Facebook I found this person from Mindanao who sells native banig’s. Yes we have banig’s also in Antique. One thing lacking re the ones made in Antique (and I don’t want to delve into the lack of government support etc, because I don’t want to ruin the good I want to bring into this piece), that I find the one made in Mindanao more interesting is that it seems as if the latter are able to express themselves more artistically than our own native banig makers. We try to go to the different annual local market fairs held in our province, and one of the things that we as prospective customers-slash-local patriots are looking forward to is innovation. Sad to see that every year the banig is still either toasted brown or hilaw na brown, it’s still flat, or sometimes they make it into bags, the simple things. It’s okay… But the marketing grad in me is asking this- is this really all that we are able to do? There’s no innovation. It seems as if in our drive to catch up with neighboring provinces in terms of modernization and infrastructure, we are developing extreme backlogs in our homegrown gifts. Gifts that would probably give more to more people, not only a few to a few chosen ones. Gifts that offer a story, not only a salary. Gifts that are best appreciated by growing awareness.
Why am I writing this? A few months ago, I remembered the Banig seller from Mindanao and it was through her “friend list” that I discovered another (hidden) treasure from the south. As usual, when I get interested and questions start popping in my head- I sent Krizia a message asking about the Tnalak weave she was helping sell a group from Lake Sebu, Cotabato. I wanted details on the how, where, why, what of the Tnalak weave. I could copy-paste the transcript of our conversation here. But that would be weird. 😝😐 So I googled some info on it and was able to get the general idea of what she was trying to share with me. In summary, this is what the Tnalak weave is all about:
“The T’nalak, is a traditional cloth woven by the T’boli women of Lake Sebu and to them this unique fabric represents birth, life, union in marriage and death. The T’nalak is sacred and represents the Tboli’s uniqueness and identity as an indigenous group of people. The T’boli women design the t’nalak without the use of drawn patterns or guides, but instead, rely on a mental image of the designs. Often times called the “dream weavers” the T’boli women believe that the patterns are bestowed on them through either their own dreams, those from their ancestors or ones granted specially through “Fu Dalu,” the spirit of the abaca. These designs are handed down or shared but not every t’nalak weaver knows every design. Usually, a few of the original designs stay within a certain family while others are shared (one-weave.org).”
I became more interested when Krizia told me that the weavers also get their inspiration from their surroundings, from nature. Then I could not help but be further enamored when she sent me photos, giving me a glimpse of their beautiful surroundings. Hay Mother Nature, you are so lovely!
Sometimes we buy things not really caring about the story behind them. How they came to be and why. The process through which they have to go through into being a “finished product” is in one way or another their story, their camino, their adventure to share. That is one aspect that a “thing” though “material” becomes more than its physical manifestation. Somehow it does not just become a “product” or a “thing” for us to buy. In totality, it becomes a gift. A gift made priceless because of the story it conveys, which at a certain level also teaches us.
So this is the Tnalak.
Someday I would like to see the same creative amor from our native banig makers and other local gift makers in conveying the stories of how their gifts came to be.
PS. Since the Tnalak is considered sacred, it cannot be used on the floor/stepped on. This is especially true if the Tnalak weave pertains to the more traditional ones. These two are not so traditional anymore. Another story for another day, because there’s a story behind the blue Tnalak weave. This is probably just an intro into it.