On January 8, 1974, hoping for a fresh start, the King of Rock and Roll finalized his divorce papers with Pricilla Presley on his 39th birthday. At the same moment (but in a different time-zone) on the other side of the planet, tens (or maybe hundreds) of thousands of Filipinos gathered to commemorate another type of King, the Christ. And as the crowd marched around the streets of Quiapo in praise of the town's patron saint, Jesus of Nazareth, a new hope was born. A humble and loving mother from Tondo gave birth to her 8th child. The family says that this baby boy was so beautiful and refreshing that groups of children would gather around him and say that he looked like the Santo Nino (Infant Jesus). And with renewed faith, hope, and love, his mother named him JESUS....yupp! ME! This year, my wife and children reminded me that I turned 36 (gee, thanks). But this day will always be more than about me getting old. It is never about the presents or the special events or places. January 9 will forever be about my relationship with my mother. As far as my memory can take me, I remember braving the mob-filled Quiapo church and the streets around it to celebrate my birthday and the Divinity that I was named after. I remember getting woken up at dawn then rushing to beat the crowd. We'd arrive early enough that we would have enough time to pay pilgrimage to the different stages of the Black Nazareth and rub our handkerchief on the "miraculous" statues. As my mother listened to ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUzNv2YM26c&hl=en
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