Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Love Vs. Vengeance

I have proven so many times that vengeance is not the answer for somebody who does injustice to me. People who really know me find me honestly frank. I'm candidly frank using figurative language that I have developed as a "poetess". My students find my "poetry" penetrating the bones. That's all I really am. But I don't play dirty.

I have started to operate a preschool in a Springville subdivision. I have trusted people who had ulterior motives. They asked to share with electrical, water installations and promised to pay the bills. I let them sleep in the building to safeguard the structure. I would find my plants dry and wilting during surprise visits. When I brought a television set, that, too didn't escape their invasion. When the classes begun, I offered scholarship to the grandson. He was a fast learner. My teacher found a problem, though. He was rude. He got involved in breaking my dvd tape of Daddy Day Care. He did not admit his part and worse the mother was not even apologetic. The other boy's parent humbly offered to pay half for the destroyed dvd tape. But the tape could not be replaced. No copy is availabe in local outlets. I have given my teacher custody of the building key. But they insisted that the son sleep to" secure" the premises. They got the key and invaded the building without my knowledge. My husband caught them and passed the information to me. When I inquired about the matter, they were furious. They bragged they will cut the electrical, water connections; pull out the grandson in the enrolment. They were not satisfied at all. They would text harsh messages; shout on the phone. To all these, I did not do anything to get even. I treated the matter as non existent; as if it did not happen. They did not stop, though. They talked to parents of pupils to pull out enrolment for reasons they have concocted.

The day came I have to stay in the building to safeguard the equipments installed, especially the computer with Smartbroadband. I would be hypocrite to say that there was no antagonism in me as I look outside my window. They would pass by the road as they used to. I would hear conversations in their guardhouse. I let them be. Live and let live, that's how respectful I am to people - rich or poor, educated or uncivilized. Till one night, I have to borrow my mobile phone from my teacher when I arrived home from school. The said phone was delivered to me with a weird news - that the family was ejected by the husband's employer. Suddenly, after so many years of lording in the Cueva's security barracks, they're deported. Now, I'm so relieved. Can't deny it.

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