MA. IMMACULADA “BABY” B. REYES
At 78, I look back with a heart full of gratitude. My two daughters have since migrated, while my son chose to stay close. I am blessed with eight wonderful grandchildren who continue to bring me immense joy. I keep a jar of memories—a simple reminder of how the Lord has carried me through the seasons of life.
Through my work in the corporate world, I found purpose and strength. But after becoming a widow in 2013, my soul longed for something deeper. That yearning led me to a more intimate relationship with God when I became a lector at our parish. Each Mass brought me closer to Him, filling me with a quiet, sustaining peace.
At 75, I retired from parish service, but God opened another door. I found a new spiritual home at the Family Rosary Crusade Chapel, led by Indian priests, where seniors are welcome to serve. In this sacred space, I also began writing simple poems and prayers—and in doing so, found solace once more.
Through every chapter—joyful or sorrowful—He has been faithfully by my side. And in His constant presence, I discovered again and again… the gift of Peace.
“PEACE”
Beautiful memories linger in our hearts
Let us keep collecting them
To make us realize how God loves us
Let the traumatic ones be buried
The happier ones remain
To make us whole again
The Treasure our heart searches for
Is found in the ocean of God’s love
When the will of God coincides with our will
We obtain Peace
Before, I thought of God as an authoritative Father—stern, distant, someone to be feared rather than embraced. But that understanding changed when I attended a Life in the Spirit Seminar.
Fr. Sonny Ramires delivered a powerful farewell talk at the final session. He invited us to imagine Jesus standing before us. In that moment, I found myself at His feet, weeping—not out of sorrow, but as if my soul was finally being seen, held, and healed.
On the way home, the service car was full of people, but I was unusually quiet, wrapped in reflection. When I got home, I didn’t feel hungry—something rare for me. The house was still, my children already fast asleep.
Then, something stirred in me. I sensed a presence—gentle, comforting. I knew it was Jesus. He had been with me the entire time, silently accompanying me from the seminar to my home. I felt an overwhelming lightness in my heart, as though a burden I didn’t know I carried had been lifted.
I quietly entered my daughters’ room and asked Jesus to bless them. Then I went to my son’s and my husband’s rooms. I even prayed for our yaya (caregiver), who, to this day, still keeps in touch. After I finished my rounds of blessing, the presence beside me gently left.
Tears of joy streamed down my face, and I was overwhelmed with gratitude. A pious friend later told me to always return to this moment whenever life gets difficult. And I still do. That night, I came to truly understand that God is not just a Father—He is a loving and caring one.
There was a rebirth in me. And ever since, I have held on to that truth: I am deeply loved.
