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Yes, I was not born here. Let me tell you about the history of the Philippines. The Philippines was under the conquest of Magellan from Spain since 1521. Philippines was named after King Philip of Spain.
RP for short did not advance much thru Spain. Though it brought Catholic Christianity. A very strict discipline on that faith. In 1896, war with Spain and America, took over. Spain was defeated. RP ceded to the US, plus $20,000 paid to Spain.
And I think that war also involved the Puerto Rico and Cuba, and in 1898 the US too over Puerto Rico, and Cuba from Spain. But how Cuba separated, I don't remember.
From 1896, the Phil was under the US until 1946 when given independence after the Japanese war. US saved RP in 1944 from the Japanese.
Since RP was under the US territory before the independence, my father,
not yet married to mother, and his 2 brothers, came to the US. My father studied, but my 2 uncles joined the military. The oldest brother was in Europe during WW2. He did not come home. His next brother was assigned in the Pacific. He came back home alive. My father after he studied went back to RP to teach. He majored US, World history, and brought all the knowledge of US and English literature. Americans were usually the teachers, brought the US standards of education. Father taught history in the High School. At that time, the principal of the school was American. My mother was a math teacher, and they met in the High School and got married. I was the youngest among 5 children.
Father died of an accident when I was only 2 years old. Here comes the funny part. Every 6 PM, we were called to prayer when the Angelus bells rung. Family gathered together to pray. I was 3, when I learned how to pray, and mother required all children to knell. I raised up my butt to knell. But I got so tired drop myself again. Then mother touched me, and I know she wanted me to knell again. I got up, after about 5 minutes, I got tired, dropped again on the floor, got up again since mother looked at me. Prayer was almost 25 minutes, and that was done daily, a rigorous ordeal for me.
When I was about 13 years, I wanted to study in the US. Uncle and his wife had no children. So, they were happy, came and got me. They adopted me also. But since I was only 14 years old when they adopted me, I also got my US citizenship based on their adoption papers here in the US.
I missed them. I also missed my mother and father in laws, and grandpa. they all loved me, and I missed all of them.
My husband, the only child, was drafted for Vietnam when about to graduate college. He came home from Vietnam. Sprinkled in Vietnam with that agent orange.
After Vietnam, he worked few years for the State Dept. of Health. But later his health deteriorated. He got cancer out of that agent orange, according to the doctor and died later. Isn't that a sad? My faith in God made me strong. I'll see them again, when the Lord calls me home. But most of my nephews and nieces are in the US and they are all love me. So, I still have family who loves me. But they are in different states. And I am in the West Coast. Plenty of flowers and pine trees a round. I have a cat who prays with me. She purrs and purrs beside me. We had been to Canada a number of times when my husband was still alive.
God bless and good night, CD.
================= br i Yes, I was not born here.... (
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