A WAHM Writes

 I  LOVE this story. Somewhere in Milaor, Camarines Sur, there lived a  fourth grader boy who would follow this route to school everyday: He has to  cross the rugged plains and cross the dangerous highway where vehicles are recklessly driving to and from. Once past this highway, the boy  would take a short cut, passing by the Church every morning just to say Hi  to God, and faithfully say his, “Magandang umaga po” in Bicol dialect. He  was faithfully being watched by a Priest who was happy to find innocence so  uplifting in the morning,  ”Kamusta, Andoy? Papasok ka  na?”  ”Opo padre … ” he would flash his innocent grin, the priest would  be touched. He was so concerned that one day he talked to  Andoy.  ”From school…”, he advised “Do not cross the highway, you  can pass through the Church and I can accompany you to the other side of  the road…that way I can see ...