Tag Archives: children’s literature

Free eBook: Pass the Message to Picaso

Hi guys! As we go through this pandemic together, I thought of what would happen to different industries and how each would be able to cope with what’s happening around us. I’m sure going back to normal seems like such a distant idea for us now.

As libraries, bookstores and schools closed quite abruptly, I felt the frustration of fellow parents like myself, having to deal with my own new work-from-home situation (which I’m grateful that I have), but also having the chores and my child’s education and well-being to think of.

Anyway, that’s the reason that I decided to make this book free to download. It’s not a groundbreaking solution, but for mothers who have to deal with their kids constantly, maybe a few minutes is all it takes for them to reset and gather their thoughts. I hope that this eBook gives you mothers out there a couple of minutes to just relax with your kids and read a book.

Hugs!

Free e-book: Pass The Message to Picasso

An Ode to My Working Mom

I do not like this hide-and-seek

I do not like this one bit.

You said to count to ten

You do this time and again.

I knew it was unwise

To close my eyes

And just like that,

You were gone.

No, it’s no fun

I sniff like a mouse

And go through the house

And peek in each room

Only to cry

Over your tricks.

You do this every day

From Monday to Friday.

And even if I would

promise to be good,

you’d still go.

Can’t you just say no

To this “boss?”

Or is she much cuter than me?

No, that can’t be.

Stay home today, please.

Spooky Reads #1: My Friends in the Attic (Part 3 of 3)

Part 3

Elsa hurriedly went down the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mom!” She called out, her voice cracked.

“Elsa?” Her mom shouted back. “Elsa, where are you?”

Elsa stepped into the kitchen and saw her mom talking to a person in a police uniform.

“Elsa!” Her mom gave her the tightest hug. “Where have you been? Why are you covered in soot? What happened to you?”

Elsa glanced at her reflection on the shiny refrigerator. She looked thin and raggedy.

“When I came back from the sale, you were gone! We’ve been looking for you for days!” Elsa’s mom continued, her eyes red, her hair in disarray.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Elsa said. She began to sob, knowing that she was that close to being lost forever.

“No, Elsa. I’m sorry. I should’ve been spending more time with you. I forgot how important you are…more important than anything in the world.” She kissed Elsa’s forehead over and over again. “I have no excuses left. If there’s something that you want us to do together, just tell me.”

“Maybe we could walk outside and grab some food? I’m kind of hungry,” Elsa asked.

“Get cleaned and be ready in five! We’re going out,” her mom said, squeezing Elsa’s hand.

“Mom?” Elsa glanced back. “Did you know we have an attic?”

“No, I didn’t. Do you want to go and explore it later?”

“I want to clean it out,” Elsa said.

Spooky Reads #2: My Friends in the Attic (Part 2 of 3)

Part 2

One evening, Elsa’s mom called her for dinner. She had somehow whipped up buttermilk chicken and mashed potatoes. Elsa looked strangely at the woman in front of her. Was this a surprise? Tomorrow was Elsa’s birthday, but she had very low expectations. Her mom had forgotten her last two birthdays.

“What’s the occasion?” Elsa asked, trying to sound nonchalant as she washed her hands.

“I’m on the verge of a very important sale. I’m so happy because this sale means we’ll be able to afford a family trip to visit your dad! I’m sure you’d like that,” her mom gushed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Really? Yes, I’d love that,” Elsa said as she sat down. She meant it. It didn’t matter that her mom forgot her birthday. It was more important that they get to spend time with her dad. During dinner, they planned the trip, with her mom telling her all the places they could visit. Elsa couldn’t believe her questions were getting answered and she wasn’t being shushed.

“Let’s walk to the park tomorrow morning,” her mom said as she began clearing the dishes. “Maybe we’ll find a four-leaf clover to give me some luck.”

Elsa nodded, grinning from ear to ear. Maybe her mom didn’t forget after all. She fell asleep with a big smile on her face as she pictured their perfect morning together.

The next day, Elsa woke up extra early. As she came down from her room, she saw her mom grabbing her car keys.

“Elsa, I’m going out. The important client I was talking about wants to meet up with me as soon as possible,” she said hurriedly. “Just lock up and I’ll be back soon.”

“But what about…” Elsa’s voice trailed. She heard the door slam and knew that her mom was gone. She chewed on her lip, fighting the urge to get upset. She hurriedly ran upstairs, knowing exactly where she wanted to go.

“Do you have any photo albums with me in it?” Elsa asked the minute she stepped in the attic.

Lank (the tall one) nodded and emerged with a worn shoe box.

In it, Elsa saw her baby pictures and the warm smiles of her parents. Her dad raising her up in the air; her mom tying a balloon to her wrist as they strolled through a park; Elsa blowing sparkly candles on a cake. She blinked a couple of times.

“Your cheeks are wet,” Mafia (the bossy one) went up her ear to wipe a tear a way. “Don’t we make you happy? Be happy,” it commanded her.

“It’s not you,” Elsa bit back a sob. The sprites pushed a pillow beside her and she lied down, curled up in a ball. Exhausted from crying, she soon fell asleep. She woke up to a gentle nudge.

Elsa blinked a couple of times before realizing that the room was filled with colorful balloons and banners.

“What is this?” Elsa called for the furry sprites.

Slim (the thin one) waved a matchstick and all the sprites came together to sing a slightly off-key birthday song. They each took turns to climb Elsa’s shoulders to give her a peck on the cheek. They lifted pictures of birthday cakes, ice cream and brownies from the magazines. They were even able to find a piñata to smash. Soon, the attic was littered with candy and colorful confetti. Elsa clapped her hands and laughed as the sprites competed in their game.

Pretty soon, the sun was coming down. But Elsa didn’t want the day to end. She didn’t want this to be just another day that passed by. “Can I tell you something, Furball?” The furry sprite nodded. “I don’t want to go down anymore. I want to stay here.”

All the sprites gathered around her, nodding in consent. “Stay,” Biggie (the biggest one) said. “We’ll have fun all day long.”

“You’ll never get bored,” Smarty (the one who brought all the books) said.

“Ahhh,” Elsa yawned loudly. “Maybe I’ll sleep here tonight.” The sprites pushed the pillow back and watched as Elsa fell asleep once more.

Elsa woke up, but things felt different. She glanced around, and while it looked like she was in the attic, there was nothing in it, except for a frame that with a photo of two girls. Both girls looked alike, with one slightly taller than the other. They looked like a younger version of her mom.

“Elsa,” one of the girls in the frame spoke.

Elsa tripped on her footing as she scampered back, away from the picture.

“Don’t be scared,” the smaller girl said. “It’s me, your lola.”

“Lola Isabel?” Elsa asked.

“I’m your Lola Dea, your Lola Isabel’s younger sister,” the girl said. “You have to get out of this attic. Now.”

“But why? I like it here. The sprites love me and they take care of me. It’s not like my parents care that much about me. They’re always too busy.”

“That’s what I thought. I was the second child and I felt that my parents always gave more attention to your Lola Isabel. I felt that she was always better than I was. And so, I began hiding in this attic. I didn’t notice that the more I stayed, the more I faded. One day, I simply disappeared. I could see my parents searching for me in this very attic and they couldn’t see me. It was like I became invisible.”

Elsa’s whole body began shaking. “Could the sprites do that?” Elsa whispered.

“They told me that they were the protectors of the things people have forgotten. But the more you stay here, the more you become forgotten in the real world. You become like dust,” the girl warned. “Tell them you’re coming back. But go and do it quickly.”

Elsa woke up with a startle and she was back in the real attic. She tried to calm her heart as she thought of an excuse to go back down.

“You’re awake!” Bossy said. “She’s awake,” he announced to the other sprites. The group gathered around her. “What do you want to do?”

“I just want to go down for a while,” Elsa said as she forced a smile.

“Why?” Biggie asked. “Don’t you want to stay with us?”

“I just want to…get all of my photos so that I could store it here with you and we can look at them together,” Elsa said, as she held her breath for their answer.

“Ooohhh, photos!” Lanky said. “I want more photos!”

“Be back soon,” Biggie said as it moved away from the attic door.

 

I Dream of Apples

I dream of your face behind an apple;

I wake to draw a pipe on your nose.

I paint a bowler hat on your head;

Why? Well, it looks good, I suppose.

I draw blue green birds made of leaves;

I leave pink pigs in suits at the park;

I make men out of cutout paper;

That is how I wish to leave my mark!

I am Magritte

and I dream of apples.

Happy Birthday Charles Perrault!

As I was using Google to search the net, I was enamoured by its beautiful fairy tale-inspired banners.  


Inadvertantly, I clicked on one and it led me to the reason behind the banners–it’s Charles Perrault’s birthday!

I love Perrault, not just because he created magical tales, but also because he didn’t let age (he wrote Tales and Stories of the Past with Morals at 67) nor profession (he was a lawyer before becoming a writer) limit him from fulfilling his dreams! He is a constant reminder to me of what can be achieved when one has enough belief and passion.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES! I tip my hat to you, sir!

ZsaZsa Goes to Benguet!

 

“We are going home to Benguet!” Mama announced over breakfast one morning.

“Benguet?!” I whined. “Do we have to?” From Papa’s stories of his trips there, Benguet was this faraway province on top of a mountain. I just knew the long trip was going to be boooring!

“Yes, we have to. We are going to visit our family, and our tribe–the Igorots of Bay-yo,” Mama said with a smile.

“Mama!” I wailed as I crossed my hands over my chest and growled. I didn’t like to be called an Igorot. My classmates teased me when I first introduced myself as an Igorot, and from then on, I stopped mentioning it to anyone.

“I’m sorry, ZsaZsa, but I don’t understand you,” she said patiently. “We come from a long line of native Filipinos. Before the Spaniards came, we were already here, growing our crops, developing our crafts, and caring for our families! You should be proud to belong to such a unique group.”

I sighed. Mama looked long and hard at me, as if saying that I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

I had lived in Manila all seven years of my life. I knew the noisy horns of our jeeps, the colorful billboards along our paved roads, and the people dressed in their uniforms going to work and school. But I knew nothing of Benguet, except that it was high up in the mountains and that we belonged to a tribe.

Finally, it was the day of our trip. Papa woke me up early. “It’s a long trip, honey. Pack your jacket because its going to be cold.”

“Why are we called Igorot anyway?” I asked, still cranky that I had been woken up.

“Well, our name literally means that we are from the mountains,” Mama explained.

“Ok, now I know what an Igorot is. We don’t have to actually go there,” I said, hoping to still change their minds.

“We can’t just tell you what an Igorot is. You have to see it for your own eyes. You have to experience what it is like to be from the mountains.” Mama raised an eyebrow at me.

The rocking of the car lulled me to sleep. When I woke up, we were by the road on the mountainside.

“Just in time!” Papa said. “Look at the zigzag roads we are passing through!”

Even I couldn’t help but stare at the roads we were passing. Beside us was the mountain, and we were going around it. The view of the pines trees and the clouds touching the mountain took my breath away. I opened my window slightly and felt the cold wind hit my face.

Mama pointed to me the sides of the mountains with what seemed to be carved flooring. “See those? That is how we planted. Even if it is very hard to plant on mountains, the Igorots were able to figure out how to do it. We call our rice fields kapayyew.”

“Wow!” I couldn’t help but smile. “It looks wonderful, Mama. Can we see it up close?” She nodded eagerly.

Finally, we had arrived! Everyone was dressed in colorful woven fabric.

“I’m glad you’re here!” An elderly woman approached us.

“Yes, it’s time for ZsaZsa to know her roots,” Mama said.

“Let’s get you dressed so that we can teach you how to dance the Bendian!”

Mama dressed me in the same striped cloth and wrapped a thin woven belt around my head. It was fun hopping and raising my hands together with the children of the tribe. Then we shared a meal of Pinikpikan and Innasin. I was excited to try everything. The elders told me stories of my parents and they were very nice in answering all my questions. I even took many pictures with them. When the day ended, Mama sat beside me.

“Did you have a good time today?” She asked as I smiled sleepily.

“I had the best day! Thank you for bringing me to Benguet. I can’t wait to show my classmates pictures of our tribe!” I said as I kissed her goodnight.