My sister travelled far and wide.  She had been virtually on all corners of the planet—a feat only a few mortals can lay a claim on.  The world was her oyster so to speak.  A scholar with an impeccable record in her credentials, she invaded schools around civilized countries in the world discussing her favorite topic on technician education.  It may be a bit alien to contemporary pedagogical trend but the salvation of mankind rests on how skilled humanity is.  It is always her message which she wanted to telegraph.

Technology has been revolutionizing every facet of man’s life.  It even threatens to wipe out every conceivable danger to his safety.  She was at the forefront of this crusade, except that somewhere along the line, she fell short of receiving its benefits.  She spent her time to reconfigure eventually a good quality of life to the succeeding generation.

She lived a full life, far grander than the ordinary.  Not that she had a charmed and easy existence, but she coasted along the worst problems anyone can bear with grace and equanimity.  She never got stalled and she kept moving on, from one despicable instance to another ostentatious situation.  She plod from one block to another, challenge after another, trial after trial, exerting great efforts defying conventions even to the point of contesting her health.  She got this knack of competing with forces in school.  She was never a regular student.  She was always in the honor roll.

While we started in the same public elementary school, she had been occupying a different dimension already.  She was already into reading far advanced books, higher than her class requirements.  In my case, I was savoring the latest scores in the music billboards aping the songs of Beatles, Petula Clark and Dave Clark Five.  Even for a while, I have never seen my sister in the same school.  The same was true at home.  She picketed inside her room deep into her studies, I, on the other hand, would wait for the last cab to pass through in the streets.

When we ascended into the secondary school, my sister was already a bright light in the State University.  I could only stay in the sideline, trying my best to get into a petty training facility for petty boys like me.  I was never oriented in scholarship.  I was more at ease in the street.   My sister easily moved up until she succeeded in her studies as a scholar.  She bagged one scholarship after another.  Her college years were as luminous as ever.  Our walls were peppered with her medals and plaque of appreciation.  She was our heroine, our model, our idol.

I never heard her complain.  The only instance when I had a difference with her was during our elementary days when she would fix my room.  I was so mad when she had my pillow laundered and that was a signal for war.  Without my pillow, I can never sleep at all!  My mother immediately stepped in and a truce was forged.  From that time on, my room will be off limits to everyone in the family.

She was the toast in and out of our house.  She would be the main event whenever father entertained visitors.  She would be the perennial toast master in every school event.  She would be the life of every party.  I could only sigh in relief.  I was exempted in all undertakings.  I would rather stay in the farthest corner of the house.  Make her the crowning glory of the household and all.

Those activities prepared her to her future life in the academe.  She loved every minute of it.  She never wasted a second.  She was so organized that she had accumulated a lot of accomplishments in so short a time.  Her recognition however would remain hidden because of unfortunate political bickering.  She was one of the best and brightest whose glow was dimmed by contemporary strife.  Yet she kept on reinventing herself.  Proving to humanity that a jewel even if thrown in a pig sty would still glisten and project its value.  For us in the family, she made our surname (Tesoro) its exact translation—treasure.

My clan’s pride is intact with her in front—whether here or hereafter.


About vjtesoro

A perpetual student of Corrections

Posted on October 9, 2012, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Hi there, all the time i used to check web site posts here in the early hours in the break of day,
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