For you, your dreams and your hopes

Third World Countries

2011-05-15T06:24:00.000-07:00

Hello there. MarkeeTeeVee here. I've always been posting stuff concerning the site and not much about our main mission - Charity. For that, I decided to do this, for a change.

Have you ever been to a third world country? Some yes, some no, some might not even know what "Third World Country" means. In a nutshell, a third world country is somewhat the same as an under-developed country. The term 'Third World' arrived during the Cold War to describe countries that remained non-aligned with either capitalism and NATO (which along with its allies represented the First World), or communism and the Soviet Union (which along with its allies represented the Second World). This provided a way of categorizing the nations into three groups based on social, political, and economic divisions.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_World

Did this "categorization" help the third world countries. Heck, are we even aware of the situations these countries are facing? I live in a Third-World country and the situation here is getting worse everyday. You can see YOUNG people begging in the streets. Yes , YOUNG people. People who were supposed to be the hope for the future. Then there are also the elders. Instead of resting and enjoying the rest of their lives, there they are, begging in the streets just to have food to eat.

What are we doing then? I know ONE thing that we are doing. BLAMING THE GOVERNMENT. You know what, blaming them doesn't solve anything. Why can't we just do it ourselves? There are lot's of ways if you only keep an open-mind and willing heart. Instead of blaming the government, why don't we just take an action ourselves? That's a question that we should all ponder on.

Think about it.

The Other Sides Of The rainbow

2011-05-11T05:08:00.000-07:00

A girl, not little, but not yet adult, sleeps.

She sleeps on a warm bed, a bed that is too big to be cozy.

Her hair, perfect, and smells of strawberries and happy endings.

Her nose has only but smelled the finest perfumes.

Around her bed are liters of toys, all, big and small, scattered, creating a soup of toys.

She threw it away before she slept, if only to spite her father.

She knew it was petty, she knew it was childish, but it did not stop her.

Pretty soon, she would get what she wanted.

~~~~~~

A girl, not little, but not yet adult, sleeps.

She sleeps on a bed so small, too small even.

Her hair, a mess, and smelled of cigarettes and big hands.

Her nose, spoiled by scents too strong for a girl her age.

Surrounding her are noises; the walls being too thin.

She tries to block it off, drown it out, but can't.

She desperately wants to get away, escape.

Maybe, just maybe, she will.

~~~~~

A girl, not little, but not yet adult, sleeps.

She sleeps on a bed made out of newspapers and cartons.

Her hair, unwashed for days, weeks, months(who knew?), and smelled of unspeakable smells.

Her nose, sensitive like a dog's, exposed to everything(and nothing).

Encircling her are her family. They, too are asleep.

She sleeps soundly(what does she dream?).

She has a dream of a life meant for more than survival.

I'm afraid to say that she would likely fail.

~~~~~

((Note: I don't really know what this is about, to be honest, and I'm the author. I meant this to be a poem that shows the contrasts between the lives of different girls, one rich, one abused, and one on the streets. I don't really know how it relates to the site but...ah f*ck it, it just does.))

2011-05-07T20:48:00.000-07:00

It was noon time. The Advanced Chemistry class I was taking just ended. I went outside with my friend. Then as we got out the door, a woman was there. She was carrying a baby who has got no clothes on. Their faces were streaked with dirt and the woman had a ratty shirt on and a piece of cloth that she somehow made into a skirt. She got her palms reached out, asking for some money. So my friend and I gave her some. Then we started to walk away. Just like people do every time. But we barely walked ten steps and then two other women who were also carrying babies like the other woman, approached us, held out their palms and asked for money. We couldn’t move since they easily blocked our way in the narrow sidewalk. My friend dug into her bag and got some coins. I got some from my wallet too, but then instead of a mere one peso or five pesos (which is what I intended to give) I got a ten peso coin instead. I was going to return it to my wallet since I’ve been saving that for my fare because drivers usually don’t have change. But then the woman literally grabbed it from my hand then she just smiled and said “Salamat…” (Thank You). I was…let’s say, shocked. So on a whim, I grabbed my friend then as if right on cue, the red light glowed and we crossed the street. We were already on the other side of the road when the woman called out to say “Salamat...” again. And she was smiling. Streaked with dirt with a naked baby in her arms and walking barefoot on a hot road…she was smiling.

For some of us, ten pesos means a ball pen, which we end up losing after a few days. For some of us it’s a cool drink of soda that on some days we can’t even finish and it ends up on the trash. And before, with ten pesos I could buy a donut for snacks. But for them, ten pesos means a whole lot more. We may not know it, but it could maybe feed them for a week. Maybe it could buy them clothing for their babies or maybe just a bottle of water that they end up sharing with their family. At some point in our lives we may come to think that life is so hard on us. As the saying goes “Life sucks. Then you die.” Well, yeah. Life is not an easy path to walk through. But for some people, like those women, they have to walk this path barefoot. With no protection or knowledge whatsoever to at least keep them prepared for what‘s up ahead of the road, good or bad. There are those days when I succumb to my own selfishness and I walk around with the thought that everything’s so unfair. It’s unfair because I can’t have this and that or because there are so many things I can’t do yet. Or because I have this abnormality in my back and I have to walk around with a bulky body brace. But what never crossed my mind on those moments is that kid, who once knocked on our door to ask for food. He was so hungry yet his parents can’t feed him. Or that man who once came to our house asking for help. He had this disease and he needed money for operation and meds. His stomach was so bloated and he told my mother not to let us, the kids, near him because of his condition. It’s so easy to forget about those times. But then it’s so hard to remember especially when we are caught up in our own lives. But it wouldn’t hurt to remember, wouldn’t it? To think about how they came to us, complete strangers, for help. How they knew people would help them and took every chance they got. Try to see yourself in their shoes. How you have this weight on your shoulders. How does it feel to be on the other side? It kinda stings, right? Then think about how they would willingly help you. That’s how they see you, on the other side…their side.

It wouldn’t hurt to offer a hand and help them.

Sorry for being inactive

2011-05-07T07:03:00.000-07:00

Hey guys. I haven't posted in this blog for a long time, so I'd like to apologize. I'd been busy with some personal and Student Council stuff. For this whole week, I attended a leadership workshop. Asides from that, I've been also attending a Photojournalism workshop.

I'll do my best to become more active, through posting, rather than just work in the background, editing stuff and etc. Thank you for your patience and have a great day.

Peace :)

Untitled, as of now.

2011-05-02T00:43:00.001-07:00

There's a little boy sitting down in the corner of the street.

He wears threadbare clothes, and he holds his tiny, malnourished sister with one hand.

His other hand is holding a rusty old can. It's jagged edges have already ripped through his skin a number of times now.

The sun is burning.

He raises his left hand, the one holding the can, to his forehead, to block away the sun's rays.

He takes care not to cut himself again. He knows that his parents wouldn't let him use the money to buy band-aids or betadine. "Anyways, it's your fault for being careless,"his mother would say.

And deep inside, he'd agree.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're in the car, talking to your friend on your cellphone.

You might be talking about a boy. You might be talking about another friend. You might be talking about a project. You might be talking about Global Warming, for all I know.

In between your bouts of talking, you complain to your driver about the temperature.

"Driver, heat up the a.c. It's so hot in here."

You hear someone knocking on your car door. You stop looking, and turn to look.

You see him: A boy of six years, with dark arms that are skinny, too skinny. You see his tattered clothes, too big for his small frame, filled with holes that his mother never thought of mending, too dark and patched with dirt that you can't even see what color it once was. You see cuts and scars all over his body.

You see his sister, who is in the same form that he's in. You see the doll she's holding-a cheap, old, dirty, raggedy knock off, one that you would probably throw away when you see it. Maybe you did, once. And yet she holds onto it tight, as if the world would end if she lost it.

But what leaves a mark on you: Their eyes. Even though it seems as if they received the very worst in life, their eyes show a smile. A smile that expresses both their childlike wonder, and a maturity that you've never seen before.

Maybe you'll think of your brother. His sun kissed arms, arms that were spent playing around. He wears fine clothes-your mother only buys clothes that exude rich. He takes a bath twice a day: One when he gets up, another before he sleeps. Whenever he gets hurt, whether a big cut or a tiny scratch,one so tiny that you start thinking that maybe he's making it up, your mother would place a band-aid-one of those expensive ones, the ones with a cartoon character on them.

The last time you saw him, he was crying because he couldn't find his game console.

Maybe you'll think of you're sister. Her arms-arms that are pale, since your mother will not let her play too long(or at all) outside, because god forbid that her skin turns tan. She wears the cutest, the prettiest, and most expensive clothes-of course, she is a little angel princess. She takes a bath whenever she gets dirty. She never gets hurt, of course. Your mother would scream if she sees a tiny scrape(or imagines one), on her pretty little girl. The last time you saw her she was throwing a tantrum because you're father refused to buy her a dolly. With good reason. She just received an expensive one yesterday.

Or you might think of yourself. You had a fight with your mom yesterday. The reason: she won't give you enough money to buy that totally cool, but totally expensive, and useless item. You know, the one you saw at the mall. You know she will eventually give in, though. That, or you'll ask instead from your father. You know he will.

Sympathy flashes across your eyes-for half a second. Then your face turns robotic, without any expression or emotion, and you'll turn away, and continue on talking to your friend, and complain to the driver about the temperature, like nothing happened.

Indeed, nothing did happen. This happens everyday-a routine that we have all grown accustomed to. We know that if we ignore the person, the beggar outside, he or she will go away. Or maybe we'll give them money, but only so that they'll STOP LOOKING AT YOU STOP MAKING YOU THINK.

And we call ourselves superior beings? What a joke. We can't even help our brothers and sisters in need.

Charity isn't to ignore the person in need, nor to give them money.

Imagine instead if you reached out your hand, and instead of money, offered your sympathy. Or went the extra mile, and went out of the car, and helped them. You know, by doing anything. Anything.

Chances are, they'll run away from you. Or be afraid.

You'll leave, puzzled, wondering, "Why?", and possible forget about it.

They'll leave, crying, wondering, 'Why?", and remember the stranger who tried to help them all their lives.

I wish I could do that. I wish we all could. I dream we could.

But dreaming is for losers, right?

Well let me be a loser.

What is Charity?

2011-05-01T21:53:00.000-07:00

I was asked by my student journalist – Mark Francis S. Basan II, to write a short article about the virtue of charity or love. This is for the welovecharity.blogspot.com that he created for the intention of raising funds for the benefit of the Home for the Aged here in Iligan City. I commend him and his team for coming up and making this plans a reality.

So, what is charity?

In the American Heritage Dictionary, the term “charity” is defined as help or relief given to the poor; an organization or fund that helps the needy; benevolence toward others and forbearance in judging others [page 179].

For me these four statements are one of the many ways that we can express our love of God and for our brothers and sisters. For those who are involved in this blog they would like to show their love for the elderly in a concrete way. This is their response to Jesus greatest commandments. As Jesus said in the Gospel, the first and greatest commandment is you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and the second commandment is love your neighbor as yourself. By helping the elderly, it also their expressions of thier love for God.

In the “A Consice Dictionary of Theology”, often charity is refered to the third theological virtue, which presupposes the other two (faith and hope) and gives life to all the virtues. Its primary object is God; secondarily it is directed towards ourselves and other human beings [page 40].

For those who are involved in We Love Charity blog, they have deep faith to God and they put this into action by loving the elderly and they are hoping that they can helped them in their own little ways.

May God bless you always.

Updated the "About Us" Page

2011-04-28T07:13:00.000-07:00

Hey guys. I finally made an "About Us" page for this blog. Still incomplete though, but it's better than not having one at all, right? To visit the "About us" page, click the button beside "HOME" or just click this link.
http://welovecharity.blogspot.com/p/about-us.html
Tell me guys, what should I add to improve that page? Thank you!

tl:dr; "about us" updated.

WELCOME TO THE NEW PAGE

2011-04-28T03:01:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the new page!

I made the background simpler but the header a bit complicated.

You think this is a waste of time?I don't think so. No time is wasted if it's used for the right purposes.

So what do you think of the header?

Be a contributor!

2011-04-27T05:06:00.000-07:00

We're looking for contributors for our blog for charity, http://www.welovecharity.blogspot.com. Before applying, make sure you have these.
1.Blogger account. http://www.blogger.com/
2.Writing skills
3. Fluent in English, not required to be the best though.
4.Availability
5.Willingness

If you want to apply, PM me @ markeeteevee.gmail.com / mark_basan_billiejean@yahoo.com . Include also a sample article about charity. Thanks!

Welcome to WeLoveCharity!

2011-04-27T05:04:00.000-07:00

Hey guys! Welcome to WeLoveCharity! This blog is obviously, all about charity. Our mission is to help a chosen charity in our local place . Through our donations, we can help those charities, even in a little way.

Everything (our mission, objectives, etc) shall be updated in the future.

Thank you for visiting!