28th of the Year: Brave


I believe it wasn’t rebellion on my part even though I told him I had been following orders for the last 28 years. Mama and Papa were hysterical when I said I was going to the Dam on a motorcycle. Mama said it was dangerous, do not dare. Papa offered to drive us there instead. Angel just had me promise to wear a helmet and to hold tight – not to him but on the seat. But he was my friend first and I trust him so I told them we were going to be fine; he will take care of me. And he did. And I’m happy.


At first I thought Mama cursed us. She’s a witch, after all. I had a headache in the morning and the sky was cloudy with 92% chance of rain. Haha. I asked him about Plan B but changed my mind: we both agreed having a Plan B meant we didn’t trust God will not make it rain. The Gospel that morning was about trusting that God can calm the storm so we thought it was fitting and we did dare. Plus, he joked he offered eggs to Santa Clara so… faith, right?


It did drizzle a little in Santa Monica. But only a little and only in Santa Monica.

We would like to call it divine intervention.


I was a useless tour guide. I don’t have any sense of direction so I had no idea where we would turn or if we should even turn. But I did have a vague recollection that the sign that said “This Way To” will lead us to the Dam and he listened to me. (For someone who can trace her bloodline through the Dam’s history, I was inutile.) I guess he did fear I got us lost after a seemingly endless drive but we arrived.


I did warn him I kinda enjoy(?) some sort of celebrity status at the Dam and I wasn’t joking. We should really have waved at the CCTV so Papa would know I wasn’t lying.




We drove to St. Andrew’s Parish. One Church down.


We stopped by St. Joseph the Husband Parish. Two Churches down.




Leprechauns and a pot of gold.


The drive home was fast.




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