A repost of an entry made 4 years ago..
Six years ago, this date, August 13, fell on a Friday – yep your regular, much dreaded Friday the 13th,, an unlucky day that has spawned many horror movies and unfounded fears.
I know of people who had unfortunate experiences to associate with this day. Why, just 3 months ago, a coworker while cruising through the NLEX, had an accident on a rain-drenched Friday the 13th. He survived the collision with a broken neck; his car though was a total wreck.
Despite its sense of foreboding, miracles have happened for me on Friday the 13ths. I recall at least 3 dates which had been memorable moments in my life.
On a Friday the 13th in 1992, I felt the full blast of the magic called love.
On a Friday the 13th in 2001, I reached the peak of Mount Matutum – a long-sought dream.And 6 years ago, a Friday the 13th , I had a meteor shower of a lifetime.
The year was 1999; I was a Science Grade 7 teacher then. I was on my third month of teaching the kids who were all enthusiastic to discover life’s mysteries through science. That Friday night, I organized an overnight stargazing session.
August 13th marked an annual astronomical event – the Perseids Meteor Shower. I explained to the kids that on a normal night one could see a handful of sporadic “shooting stars”. But occasionally the earth, during its annual journey around the sun, passes through a region in space with high concentration of dust particles. Such instances are a feast for sky watchers; the particles entering the atmosphere provide a spectacular and abundant display of nature’s fireworks.
I had looked forward to the event because my first experience of a meteor-shower observation in college had been an intimate and liberating one. Vicariously feeling the child-like wonder and amazement in my students I knew that if only the skies would cooperate they were in for in a marvelous treat, a rare experience that would anchor in their childhood memories.
If only the skies would cooperate and that had been the big if. Perseids Meteor Shower Observations had always been a tricky battle with Mother Nature. August skies are almost always overcast.
That morning did not provide any glimmer of hope. Ominous black clouds hovered above us. Neither was the official weather news encouraging. Even my horoscope for that day was not cooperative (okay okay I sometimes check out the horoscope for a sense of validation). On hindsight it did seem that all odds were against us.
I knew that all I could do was just hope. I prayed to God for a clear sky (I recall praying the rosary the night before, an act I rarely do). The prayer was not for me, it was for the kids. How would they handle the disappointment? How would they handle the brutal blow to their anticipation ?
And so it happened. On the night of August 13 in 1999, a Friday the 13th, there had been a heavy downpour in the villages sorrounding Mt Matutum (as we’ve learned the morning after).
The sky unloaded its watery weight and flooded the villages with its wrath.
On the foot of the mountain where the school is located, the scenario was entirely different, oblivious to the storm occurring in the nearby areas. The clouds had parted ways- as if an answer to my prayers- providing us a magnificent view of the clear imposing sky, teeming with stars.
We lay down there on the school field watching in awe and admiration as the awaited shooting stars zoomed intermittently in front of us. The kids screamed and shrilled at each find as if a treasure, their eyes glued to the sky lest they miss the next spectacle. Amidst their oohs and aahs I offered a prayer of thanks.
From the countless stories jubilantly told and retold in the days that ensued I knew it had been an experience they would cherish.
It has been six years since and yet I could still feel the exhilaration. I could still hear the echoes of their screams. I could still see the awe and excitement on their faces.
I could still fondly recall the miracle that happened 6 years ago on a Friday the 13th.
