Eighteen years ago, I found myself sitting in a classroom alone.
All of my classmates had gone to the library to take the college entrance exams to the biggest universities in the Philippines.
I did not go with them because I knew my parents couldn’t afford to send me to college.
My envy was from the moon and back.
Seventeen years ago, a generous Filipino community from the United States of America gave me a college scholarship.
My parents and I were very thankful that they took care of my tuition.
At least, we just had to worry about my daily allowance.
However, thinking about my daily allowance was already as painful as seeing Lebron James dancing the Cha-Cha (peace, Cavs’ fans).
In college, I would quickly sneak out of the classroom and rush into the nearest comfort room five minutes before the end of our last subject for lunch.
It was the place where I could comfortably eat my five loaves of pandesal for lunch without seeing those seemingly mocking stares of people.
I thought that if I only had two fish, it would have been a re-enactment of the Multiplication of Five Loaves and Two Fish.
After all, I literally needed a miracle.