Our Mothers …

Look around these days, and see all the people roaming the place. How different they all are, what various places and backgrounds they all come from; Nagueños and Bikolanos, but also Filipinos from other regions, young ones and elderly ones, kids and adults, men and women, priests, laymen, famous and ordinary people, ones are excited, others are cool, still others are serious or contemplative and again others are loud and shouting. The peoples' postures, their hair black or grey, and skin smooth or frowned, tell the story of an individual life, all these eyes have faced different demands and fates.

All of these people - all of us - were once born and were helplessly given to the shelter of our parents. The first experiences we made in our lives are related to them. They were the first ones we meet and got to know and they ever after were models to us. Whatever life holds for us, it will be related to those first experiences, those first models in our lives.

I firmly believe it is our fathers, who draw the picture we later on have of God, our Father and Creator of heaven and earth, and it is our mothers, who serve as models of divine love.

Back then, when we were nothing but in need, nothing but helpless and exposed to all there is, it was our mother, who selflessly and unconditionally picked us up, carried us around, feeding us when hungry and gently rocking us in her arms, calming us until tears dried and fears and pains disappeared. Our trust in our mother's love and care left no space for doubts and uncertainty. We were safe and secure and all was good. Only later, when we grew older, we began to realize, that our mothers are also humans, that they also have their shortcomings and errors, but important is what remains: The experience of endless and unselfish love that we were once provided to wholly and completely give ourselves away to. Such is divine love. And our mothers were the ones to tell us about it, to plant in our hearts the knowledge of such love.

Indeed, we all differ and we all have our own story to tell about what all we already went through, how it educated us, and where we finally have come to be today, but going down to the essentials of our lives the differences seem to vanish into some celebrated unity. People from near and far enter into Naga for fiesta week, streets and places are crowded with crawling bodies, with a moving mob. All are on their feet, all want to participate, all want to be there. Be there to celebrate the Lady of Peñafrancia, Holy Mary, the Mother of God, our mother, as we are brothers and sisters in Christ.

You might find it strange that I, a non-Nagueño, am writing these lines, as here in Germany such fiesta is unknown. But it remains that we - Europeans and Asians and any other alike - share the same yearning. We here, too, have mothers, who loved us unconditioned, we here, too, learned about divine love from them, we here, too pray to Holy Mary, Mother of God. We do not celebrate Peñafrancia festival, but we celebrate the month of May as Holy Mary's month ("Marien-Monat"). I understand that we might differ in time and schedule, when we celebrate the Mother of God, but we do not differ in intention nor in this shared appreciation for our mother and our longing for divine love. Holy Mary there and here is mother and model to all of us.

We differ in our appearance and fate, our individual history and where it took us to, but yet we remain the same in our seeking and celebrating our Mother. Gathering under this one yearning, this one good experience, we are even: We readily and joyously celebrate the unconditional love of a caring mother, the love that showed and shows us divine love. The love of Ina, our Mother.