Thursday, November 30, 2006

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Peter Pan Official Sequel

It's officially out (click here to view the news). But is it a kid's book with big fonts and coloured drawings on every page? Hope not :)





Tuesday, November 28, 2006

I, too, cry...

I cry because I am hurt,
I am hurt because things matters,
Things matters because I am important,
I am important because He cares.

Paradoxical? Nay, it’s not.

Psalm 56:8 (NIV)
Record my lament;
list my tears on Your scroll
are they not in Your record?

Monday, November 27, 2006

Christmas isn't Christmas

The little mouse would love to share something dear to her...



Chorus:
Christmas isn't Christmas
'Til it happens in your heart.
Somewhere deep inside you
Is where Christmas really starts.

So give your heart to Jesus
You'll discover when you do
That it's Christmas,
Really Christmas for you.

Verse:
Jesus brings you warmth like a winter fire
A light like a candle's glow.
He's waiting now to come inside
As he did so long ago.

Jesus brings gifts of truth and light
And makes them bloom and grow.
So welcome Him with a song of joy
And when He comes, you'll know...

Chorus:
That Christmas isn't Christmas
'Til it happens in your heart
Somewhere deep inside you
Is where Christmas really starts.

So give your heart to Jesus.
You'll discover when you do
That it's Christmas, really Christmas
Christmas, really Christmas
Christmas, really Christmas for you.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Song of Eve

Why is that, o Eve,
Hurricanes are named after you?
Katrina, Hazel and Rita,
Bears your name.

Is that because,
Of the fierce twirling winds,
Rushing ferociously,
Round and round,
A silent, quiet hollow?

Won’t you pacify, o Eve,
Your fierce frantic winds,
Rest assured in Lord of Eden,
And let loose, o Eve,
The beauty He has made you to be.

Come out, o Eve,
Let us hear you sing and dance,
Be pursued,
Be cherished,
Be romanced,
Be loved.

After all, you are His final touch,
In His wondrous work of art,
You are beautiful, o Eve,
Yes, above all, you are beautiful.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Canon in D with a twist

Classical with a twist :)



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=olEz4LUgJDA




Canon in D (Kanon und Gigue in D-Dur für drei Violinen und Basso Continuo: in German)

By: Johann Pachelbel (around 1680 - Baroque period)

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Happiness & Joy

We’re happy when we’re not sad,
But we’re joyful even when we’re sad.

For happiness depends on circumstances,
But joy is always full in abundance,

Though happiness is sentiment reaction,
Joy is an option.

Paradoxical, it is not.

Monday, November 13, 2006

The Nutcracker

No, the little mouse does not like King Mouse!! And she did not fight with the charming Nutcracker.




Written by E.T.A. Hoffman (1817)
Score by Pyotr Ilich Tchaikovsky (1891–1892)
[Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra - The Nutcracker]












The Nutcracker Suite
1. Miniature Overture
2. March
3. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy
4. Russian Dance - Trepak
5. Arabian Dance
6. Chinese Dance
7. Dance of the Reed Flutes
8. Waltz of the Flowers


Thursday, November 09, 2006

Where is she?

Where this little mouse linger weekly?
At the far edge of this city,
Where money twinkle oh so brightly,
And knowledge is within close proximity.

Where is she?

:)

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Faces of Cosette


The original portrait of Cosette (by Emile Bayard, 1862)



And a kawaii (Japanese: cute) version of Cosette in anime


[Click here to visit the official anime site]


Cosette is a character in Les Miserables (novel by Victor Hugo).

Monday, November 06, 2006

Thank God for Woman!

Man, thank God for woman daily,
For He has made her your suitable helper so beautifully,
And imagine what it be like, if only,
Adam would have chosen an elephant, a gorilla or even a cow initially?

:)

Genesis 2: 19-22 (NIV)
(19) Now the Lord God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. (20) So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds of the air and all the beasts of the field.
But for Adam no suitable helper was found. (21) So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs and closed up the place with flesh. (22) Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.

Friday, November 03, 2006

The Walk

Why is that, sometimes,
The journey through the trail of loneliness
Seems far more devastating
Than the walk through the valley of shadow of death?

Paradoxical, isn’t it?

Thursday, November 02, 2006

I have...

I have...
A feet that runs,
And a nose that smells,
But why is it that I have, too,
A smelly feet and a running nose?

Paradoxical, isn't it?

Dear Mister Tall Hat...

Dear Mister Tall Hat,
Do you mind me calling you that?
I know not your name, as the matter of fact,
Though you may not be really wearing a hat.

How are you lately, may I know?
I do pray you are all well and mellow,
With days painted with Daddy’s rainbow,
Truly I care for you, hope you’d know.

Daddy sang to me of you, one humble night,
Kind and gentle, yet courageous like a knight,
With wisdom and dream shimmering with bright,
But top of all, loves Daddy, with all your heart, soul and might.

Won’t you mind, telling me your story?
Of how Daddy painted your sky oh so starry,
And things that make you tear or merry,
And dreams and passions that so fiery.

Hand in hand, a synergy defined,
Of you and me and Daddy so divine,
Let love overflow, and joy never so fine,
And heart and faith, daily refined.

Curious am I to ask you of this,
Ever had Daddy sang you a song of me?
Yes, a rhythm that goes about a little Miss,
Along with her beauty, unique it may be.

Oh, for us to meet, one blessed day,
For if it’s Daddy’s will, He’ll make a way,
A mere delusion, hope not I pray,
Till Daddy’s timing, come what may.

I hope you’ll read this letter one fine day,
So my dreams won’t be let in lay,
Mister Tall Hat, though you may be far away,
Your happiness I’ll pray, day after day,

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Where could the little mouse be, in a star sea galaxy?
Can you see her, little boy, with the telescope you bought yesterday?
Can you see her, Captain Hawk, through your adventurous nights in the wild oceans?
Can you see her, Billy and Jane, through your countless courtship at night?
Can you see her, Daddy, You who paint them beautifully on the velvet galaxy?

On the endless galaxy, there the little mouse stood,
By the right of the valiant white bear,
By the far left of the elegant snow swan,
In front of noble wise owl,
And yes, at the back of swift black stallion.

On top of her voice, she bloom a little melody,
Along with all others, resonating a pleasing harmony,
Flooding void with sweet, sweet symphony,
But what difference will it make,
If the little mouse silent her petite voice?

“So, sing to me, Daddy, again and again and again,
Sing to me, Your beautiful songs of the Hope and Dreams,
Let darkness shut silence by Your lyrics,
And nothingness to be filled with Your opus,
Again and again and again, sing to me the song of You,
And I will sing and dance, for You, forever and evermore…”

Wonderful Friend

Oh what wonderful joy this is,
Like being thrown thousands of kisses,
Though it seems very amiss,
Cause I did nothing to deserve this.

How this tale should I say?
No words can it portray,
But ain’t I putting it to lay,
So, lend me your ear, if you may.

This is a story about a friend,
He who you always in need,
And He who always there indeed,
He who neither flee nor fade nor bend.

I still remember the night just by,
Angry with Him, I know not why,
Wretched and wrenched, I shut Him away,
Sick in the spirit, I cry and cry.

At my doorstep, He chose to remain,
Forsaken from my sight one whole night,
But neither fair nor dry nor rain,
Will He forsake me from His sight.

There He still is, when morning came,
His ever beautiful smile still the same,
In gentle voice, He whisper my name,
“Good morning, I’m glad you came”.

Then He hand me a gift oh so lovely
Pretty stars wrapped in pink ribbons,
To delight me from my misery,
That I may dance with Him in merry.

Oh what wonderful friend You are,
Who gave none less but many more,
Even after what happened the night before,
You still give, and give even more.

Oh so sorry, my wonderful friend,
To cause Your heart to hurt and bleed,
But You just smile and whisper gently,
“I’ve forgotten, my wonderful friend.”

Crossroad

The little mouse let out another sigh. There she was…is still is. Standing still at the same spot for hours, or maybe even days. Head turn left. Head turn right. Sigh… yet another crossroad to crack her little head.

To journey to little town Nephille. Or to venture into the big city Damious. Both of the places are extremely wondrous. No doubt about that. And not that she is lodging any mousie judgment on any of the places. But definitely, she can’t be in two places at once.

Sigh…

“Go left…” One voice claimed. Huh? Who are ‘you’?

“Go right…” Didn’t ‘you’ just said go left? Or are ‘you’ not the same ‘you’?

Are ‘you’ me? Speaking too loudly in mind. Agitating at heart for a move forward. Attempting to be Miss I-know-everything-thus-should-control-everything, again?

Or, are ‘you’ the despicable ‘you’. Murmuring loathsome lies by the ear. Aiming to erupt an obnoxious catastrophe within the soul.

Or, mayhap, ‘you’… really ‘You’? The one and only One who can shepherd the little mouse out from her elaborated mind maze. Speak loudly dear One. For Your words are true light that guides one out from the darkest cave. What is this mousie labyrinth to You who can do all things.

Forgive this little mouse of her ignorance at times. Let Your voice be prominent and lucid. And torch the way for her.

To pass this crossroad, and come to another one. And another… and another… All in the journey to Your kingdom.

The Race

On one particular fellowship meeting, leader bear, as usual, post a particular question to the members of the fellowship.

“If life is a race to Christ-likeness. And the track of the race is divided into ten sections. With marks from 1, 2, 3 and so on to 10. Whereby, each mark represents your current state of your spiritual life. And 10 mark the end of the track. A mark which represents sheer perfection. Faultless and sinless. Where do you think you are at?”

Ponder. Ponder. Ponder.

As each member shared their mark, the little mousie heart began to ponder. Oh dear, where am I now?

Definitely not 10 for sure. No one on the face of the earth had ever, ever, step foot on celebrated mark No. 10. Err… well… there is one actually. More than two thousand years ago, Jesus leaped to mark 10 the moment He was born.

7 or 8?? The little mousie gave herself a little no-no head shake. Don’t think this little mouse is worthy enough to receive such generous score. Still sinful. Still selfish. Still immature. There is still much room for improvement.

2 or 3 or 4 maybe?? Hmm… now the little mouse felt like she’s depriving herself. She’s not that evil. Not that wicked. Not that obnoxious.

Although still anxiously searching for her mark on the race, time never gave way. Soon, it was her turn to share.

Huh? Now? Me? Oh Lord, won’t You gave me a number? Silence. Or maybe the thumping of her heart overwhelmed the His gentle whisper.

“FIVE!” she blurted out. Just to be on the safe side, she thought. She let out a sigh…

Soon, the fellowship dismissed. Late at night, in her little solitary room she built in her mind, she posted the question to herself again. And this time, the answer was much clearer. It’s none other than the oh-so-famous number… one… Yeap, numero uno~

One because the goal is God, who is oh-so-perfect. One because there’s still a long way to run. One because of her long list of shortcomings and weakness.

Hey, wait a minute. Aren’t you depriving yourself? Ain’t that low self-esteem I sniffed? Aren’t you supposed to rate yourself aptly? Isn’t that ignorance towards Him?

Well, the truth is, the little mousie does not really know where she is on the track of life. Maybe she’s at mark 2 or 4 or 6 or 7 or whatever. Who knows? But her oblivious heart says she’ll still at mark 1.

One because she still want to continue to run. Faster each step. Harder each moment. Maybe because she knew herself a little more than any of you would. If she knew she is at 7 or 8 or 9, she might slow down.

“Besides, you have work so hard. Perfection is just a few steps away. Why not give yourself a little rest?” Her mousie heart will be easily tempted by such simple words. Pride will loom. Ignorance will manifest. Self sufficient will triumph. Who? God? I am god~!

From running to walking. From walking to sitting. From sitting to laying. Before long, you’ll slumber your way to the starting point of the race.

A brilliant start does not guarantee an applauded end.

Thus, one. Whether it’s 3 or 5 or 7 or 8, the little mouse will still see it as 1.

But won’t the little mouse feel dreadfully distant from God? Nay. He’s always running towards her.

Grace

Grrrrmmm… The sudden, inevitable sound was so loud it shook the ground she’s standing. Never thought a mouse’s tummy could be so thunderous.

She looked around, looking for any sight of the sun. Gone. The sun had set long time ago. Abundance of time must have flown away.

She peek her wrist watch. Eight in the evening? Already? She rubbed her tiny black eyes and blinked twice. Oh dear, I have to quicken my pace.

Fifty more toddler chicos to feed. Working in a chico farm isn’t as easy as many presume, especially after the mating season. That when all the female chicos lay about ten to fifteen eggs each, no thanks to the male chicos. The young ones, however, are undeniable extremely adorable. It’s as small as your fist, smaller even if you have big hands. Big, shimmering brown, exceptionally innocent eyes. Their teeny-weeny body covered with immature sunrise-yellow fur-like feathers. Small, cute beak. Its musical squeal for its mommy. Well, their “musical cry” can get very annoying when there are over hundreds of them.

Despite their little annoyances, she likes her job very much. Seeing each and every little chico grow makes her heart smile a little wider. Witnessing her tall, strong chicos marching alongside with the Ruby Brigade is one of her ultimate pleasures.

Whoops… mind drifted away… again. Back to work!

Then, suddenly, the little mouse senses a heavy fog of supreme pride looming…

“Yoohoo there!” There she was. Standing across the road. Clad in a pink mink coat, with an enormous gold chain wrapped around her neck. The little mouse could not recognize her at a glance. It’s only when she starts waving her, the sheen of the gigantic diamond rings pierced through the night darkness. It was her old friend, bulldog.
“Mousie-dear, what in the world are you doing here?” marched out the words with an odd accent.
“I am helping Mrs. Keilog to feed the younglings. She is …”
“Oh dear me! Working, still? At this time? When you are supposed to be in the comfort of your home?”
“You see, Mrs. Keilog…”
“Tsk~ tsk~! Why suffer so much for so little Dil! I doubt Mrs. Keilog is paying you for the extra sweat you’re pouring.”
“Actually, no, it’s because…”
“Now, now… you ought to learn more from me. Be more money-minded! For goodness sake, you will not earn anything if you kept on with your ill-fated ignorance. I tell you, this is how the world works. No matter how hard you toil and strive, they will still never, never ever, ever ever, will appreciate you. Mark my word! They will use you until your very last breathe. What will you gained then? Zippo! Nil! Zilch! Nothing… Have your faith build strongly on money! Let it be your inspiration, your utmost desire, your pillar! Because with it, you will gain EVERYTHING! Money, power, status, money, clothes, jewelries, money, mansion, oh, and have I mentioned money?” said the bulldog excitingly. Her sinister giggle and her gleaming eyes were very much disturbing.
“But… you see…”
“Ah! The time, the time! Wish I could stay to chat, sweetie, but I got a dinner appointment with some awfully charming chaps. And, you ought to get some good shut-eye. Your complexion looks deadly miserable.”
“…”
“Ta ta…” she said, with her usual finale pose before strutting away.

The little mouse was finally alone. She let out a long, silent sigh…

“All I want to say was Mrs. Keilog is not feeling very well today. Besides, even if she was not sick, I would still volunteer to help. Because if she was the only one doing all the work, she would not able complete until sunrise. She had asked me to go home, but I chose to stay.”

For the love for her dear friend, her work and the hungry little chicos.

Was it wrong to help? Was it wrong to work hard? Did she really not gain anything? The sweat she shed surely could not buy her the little pink dress she had her eye on last week. Nor the sound of the hungry tummy could get her the mouth-watering dinner set at Capier’s Corner. Diamond rings? Sapphire necklaces? Rubies? Bah~! Dream on, little mouse. Another ten years of hard labor, maybe.

So, the little mouse lives poorly and pitifully. Suffering and dragging the weights of agony through the days of her pathetic life. Alone. Meaningless. A testimony of ultimate hopelessness…


The end…




Ok ok… Just joking. That’s not how her mousie journey is going to end. Or at least, she hopes so.

All of the sudden, there was silence among the noisy bunch. Shock, the little mouse glares around. She felt like she just fell into the velvet mattress of the Milky Way. The twinkling and so most dazzling eyes of the little chicos was like the stars on the darkest night.

Somehow understood her little mousie feeling, they gathered around her.

Aww…. Ain’t that cute. Bet not even Duke McMorriche encounter this as often as he encounters weight gain. She was glad she had stayed and helped. There maybe many things can only be bought by worldly wealth. But there are definitely more many, many, many things that can’t be bought by even the richest man in the world. Like the smiles on the chicos’ cute little faces (now everyone, say “Awww….”). Or how about seeing a rainbow after a horrible storm. The feeling when you dance, jump, sing and shout for you just can’t contain the abundance of joy. Or even when you just are having a cup of hot chocolate on a cold, cold night. And even the old lady you once help cross the road remembered your name.

And especially, you know, every morning you wake up, He’ll be there to greet you.
When you’re sick, He’s next to you.
When you cry, He’ll hug you.
When you fall, He’ll pick you up.
When you’re tired, He’ll carry you.
When you sleep, He’ll lull you.
When you walk away from Him, He’ll woo you back.

In your every breathe, He’ll whisper “I love you” to your ears.

All these, can’t be bought; diamonds, gold, cash, whatsoever. Can’t be robbed, raid or deprived. Can’t be bartered with toil or sweat or blood. Nor can it be earned with truck load of good deeds.

It’s granted by grace.

Now, won’t you want that too?

How mousie of me

Squeak squeak squeak… The little annoying sound I make. How I wish I could chirp and tweet. Maybe, at least, I don’t sound so … err… mousie? But was it really the sound? Or the seed of the sound? Special breed of boredom, dreary and monotony. To me, it’s something. To me, it’s fascinating. Pure stupidity and naive, you think so? I am, but, a little mouse.

Little, furry, squeaky. Am I that terrifying? That even massive elephants run screaming at the sight of me. Are my blunt teeth are of fangs? Or my fur is of needles and spikes? Or my tiny paws are of claws? Or do I emit a horrible stink? If not, why you are standing on your chairs and tables? With your mouth opened wide. Out came a thunderous shout. That sends me running back into my hole. I am, just, a little mouse.

All those cheesey wheesey cakes I craved. Chocolate cheese cakes and marble cheese cakes are my ultimate favourites. I truly absolutely love to laugh and sing and dance. Above all, I sincerely want to love. Willing to love. Yearning to love. I got so much to give. And so much more desire to give. I am, truly, a little mouse

Oh, no, I am not made of steel nor wood. I have a heart. My heart can bleed when pierced. My eyes could cry when my heart bleed. I want to be loved. Want to be taken care of. Want to be cherished. Want to feel accepted. I have dreams, too, you know. Of candies and sweets and everything nice. I am, still, a little mouse.

Punishment. Someone once told me. Punishment. His voice echoed every moment. What I did so wrong, that this “curse” fell upon me? Certainly I can argue for days, months and even years why I deserve even more. But surely, the Creator does not deserve all these doubts but all worthy of my faithfulness. How contradicting can I be?

Guess, I am, all in all, a little mouse.

Saturday

The little mouse stared at the tall, ancient grandfather Clock. She has been looking intently, intensively and impatiently for quite a long while. Sometimes, she wonders. Was it her imagination that the second hand had stopped moving? It better had not. ‘Cause if it stopped, it means the minute hand will stop. Which means the hour hand will stop. Which means... the time will stop??? How absurd can this sound?

But it’s a fact. It’s true. Today is STILL Saturday. But, yesterday was Saturday. And the day before yesterday was Saturday. The week before weeks before was also Saturday. Or at least she thinks so. Or maybe, her mousie eyes were right. The grandfather Clock has been ticking like a great-great-grandma snail.

Will tomorrow be another Saturday? Or maybe, prior to that question, will tomorrow ever come? Has the Clock really given up moving Its hands?

Please, don’t, the little mouse begged and plead and cried. Please, move Your hands, O'mighty Clock. Tick… tick… tick… For the sound is so abundantly yearned and craved.

Each second is another step away to one minute. Each minute is one pace nearer to one hour. Every hour is one moment closer to tomorrow.



Sunday.

Roller Coaster

Ever wonder. Why such exuberance amusement ride could be so scary?
Ever wonder. How did those pricey tickets to the ride landed in her hand?
Ever wonder. When the little mousie seated her little self on the red cushion chair?
Ever wonder. A thousand wonders which wonder another thousand?

Surely, roller coaster isn’t any grand fashion trend that Miss Serenity or Miss Solace would ever mirror. It, too, ain’t any win-win business strategy for Mr. Capitalist would ever wish to be involved in. Ain’t too a joke funny-clown Jovial would laugh at.

Not forgetting Adolescence and his younger brother, Little Kid. The elder thinks he’s tough enough for anything. The younger does not even know what tough means. Romeo and Juliet do not fancy it either. If they would, their love story would be happy-ever-after rather than such tragic ending.

Still, every one of them is here. Seated in the roller coaster.

Up and up and up it paces. Down and down and down it plunges. As though there is no end to its plummet. Round and round and round it goes. Dancing somewhat gracefully on its twirling tracks.

Scuttle without direction or guide. With much immense swiftness. Through the dark tunnel of despair. Overturned again and again at loops of anxiety. Smidge through the acidic river of tears. Plunge down to the abyss of agony. Scurry through the fiery burrow of rejection and anger.

Yell. Scream. Cry. When this train ever tranquil?

“Wooooh, little lady, watcha yelling for?”
“Huh? Where’s voice comes from?” the little mouse pondered in her midst of confusion.
“Yo! I’m da Driver, little lady. Nice to meet ya~” There seated in the front seat, a Man with rainbow colored bandana covering part of His shoulder-length, wavy silky dark hair.
“Driver? This mad-charging-roller coaster actually has a Driver???”
“Err… yea… not many do really notice. Or, how should I put it, don’t even bother to notice? But, ya, I am da Man in control of this baby.” He turned around, pulled down his big, gold rimmed, dark sunglasses and gave an assuring wink.
“Errm…. Could You at least slow down? I mean, it’s so fast. It might crash and all of us will… will…”
“Come on, little lady, trust me. As long as I am in da driver’s seat, I am in control. And when I am in control, everything is going be way so great.”
“…”
“Trust me. Cool with it?”
“Cool, Dude…”

Well, at least it has a Driver. Somehow, after their little introduction chat, her little mousie heart felt more at peace. Guess this little mouse has to learn how to trust this... err... cool Dude.

In control, eh? This could be a very blissful roller coaster ride after all.

Deep Well

This well is deeper than I thought,
A blink of light is not at sight,
Stuck at the bottom, I wish I was out,
The torment was worse that I ever expect.

Fill, oh Lord, this well full drip by drip,
For every little drop I yearn and crave,
Let me float back up there,
In the sunlight, again, I wish to dance.

Ode to My Lovers

Lovers I have devalued,
What lost I had nurtured,
With my bare hands and mind immatured,
All hope and love I slaughtered,
When pain is felt and the heart bleed,
Is it too late I realized?

Lover of my soul and heart,
Sins and shame, I will truly repent,
In You I want to truly trust,
My heart, spirit and mind I wish convert,
Back to Your presence, I to find hope, peace and rest.

Friends and family I truly love,
A heartfelt gratitude is what I can give,
For you had stand with me alongside,
Carried me when I can’t pace,
These moments, I will not ignore.

Take note this very day!
Try not to blink if you may,
Out will come a great vase from the clay!
Your patience will surely pay,
The end will be a celebration with gay!

Birthday Wishes

Yahooooo~! Birthday is coming… Well, actually not really. The little mouse looked at her calendar and counted the number of days to go. As much as she enjoys the celebration, she definitely would not want to be “another year older”. She looked at her birth date. She leaned closer and whispered, “Take your own sweet time, ok. There is no rush, so don’t hurry”. She winked at her birth date, as if it can really hear her!

The little mouse certainly has gone through a number of birthdays. Now, there, several does not mean plentiful or numerous or abundance. So, don’t you think she’s that old!!

She could still remember each and every birthday wishes she made. Every time before she blows her birthday candles, she will, never fail, make a wish. When she was just a wee little mouse, she always wished for more toys! Electronic choo-choo train. Beautiful, gorgeous dolls. Soft and cuddly plushies. Everything a child ever wants!

Then, before she ever knew, she had grown out of it. Entered, the “not-a-child-not-yet-an-adult” episode. Woo~! Was her mind confused. She did not know what she really wants.

More pocket-money to equip her with popularity?
Streets of secret admirers singing Paul Anka’s “Put your head on my shoulder”?
Exam grades that will certainly turn Albert Einstein green in envy?
More attention from peers, friends, family and even strangers?
Aladdin’s genie in the lamp to grant her 3 wishes?
A wish to grant her another 3 wishes?

But her heart was locked on one and only one thing. This “thing” is not rare, but yet very hidden. Not apparent but yet fills the entire ambience. Cannot be eaten nor drink, but can be taste and felt. Many think it’s small, silly and shy, but it is definitely the mightiest of all.

Kings and knights and warriors hunt for it. But no war can conquer it. Rich merchants and noblemen offered their precious wealth for it. But it cannot be traded with gold and silver. Swashbucklers cross the seven seas, climb every mountain and walk every valley in search of it. But not in caves and canyons it’s found, but at your very own doorstep.

Wooh~ sound a bit too exaggerating, doesn’t it? Well, at least this is what the little mouse thinks of it. It was none other than…. *drum rolls please*... LOVE!

Got you there! What were you thinking anyway?

Every birthday, without fail, she would say in her little heart, “I wish for LOVE”. However, she did not know why she wished for such vague and all-embracing subject. And how is she going to know that her wish has come true? Nevertheless, she did not bother for the details.

She tilted her head up. There must be at least a dozen of birthday wishes on love. “You listened to every single one of them, didn’t You?” she smiled. She felt that He smiled and nodded.

“Thank You. Thank You. Thank You. For You, the Holy One, had always and will always listen to my every wish, prayer and tears. Even when I had not known You. Or even when I refused to believe in You. And rebelled every of Your word and Your ways. You will, still, listen to my birthday wishes. Every year, without fail. And You bestow that little wish of mine. How blind can I be? That Love… was, is and will be… standing in front of me, arms stretch out wide, ready to give its heart out.

How wonderful! You knew this wish of mine, before I was even born. And grant it in abundance. You are always standing in front of my doorstep, regardless of the rain or the sun. Day and night. Waiting for me to open my door. Now that I have opened, I finally realized. That Love is You, and You are Love. And I’ve got You! My wish came true!

So for the next birthday, instead of wishing the same wish, I would like to say Thank You. For You, had and always will be, by my side. Listening this little mouse’s birthday wish and granting it even she felt she does not deserved it…

Thank you Lord, for Your everlasting Love.

I love You, too…”