On pocketmoney
Bring extra money.
This is a no–brainer.
But I have no brains. And getting stranded in Pacijan Island, Camotes with no brains and no money makes the worst a memorable experience.
I had been sitting and chatting with a fellow passenger while waiting for the ferry that would take us back to Danao, Cebu, when it was announced that all trips have been cancelled because of the weather. Okay, I am not that dumb, I have a little bit of brain and so had a little bit of extra money, but money that could not afford to go to/from the pier and stay an extra night in a resort. Since I had a tent, I asked if I could just camp at the pier. The person I had been chatting with did not recommend it and invited me to stay at the nearby Baptist chapel where he is a pastor. Ah, an angel.
The extra hours in Pacijan Island were spent helping pastor and his niece prepare dinner (pastor laughed at my slowness in picking the malunggay leaves off its stalk), watching a movie (Piranha, I think it was) with them, and, when the power went out, chatting with them in the dark with only fireflies and the faint moonlight as illumination. When bedtime came, pastor and his niece retired to their little house behind the chapel and I retired in my little tent inside the chapel (Tes, a tent. In the chapel. To keep away the mosquitoes!).
Thank you, pastor, for your kindness.
Indeed, Jesus saves.
I had been sitting and chatting with a fellow passenger while waiting for the ferry that would take us back to Danao, Cebu, when it was announced that all trips have been cancelled because of the weather. Okay, I am not that dumb, I have a little bit of brain and so had a little bit of extra money, but money that could not afford to go to/from the pier and stay an extra night in a resort. Since I had a tent, I asked if I could just camp at the pier. The person I had been chatting with did not recommend it and invited me to stay at the nearby Baptist chapel where he is a pastor. Ah, an angel.
The extra hours in Pacijan Island were spent helping pastor and his niece prepare dinner (pastor laughed at my slowness in picking the malunggay leaves off its stalk), watching a movie (Piranha, I think it was) with them, and, when the power went out, chatting with them in the dark with only fireflies and the faint moonlight as illumination. When bedtime came, pastor and his niece retired to their little house behind the chapel and I retired in my little tent inside the chapel (Tes, a tent. In the chapel. To keep away the mosquitoes!).
Thank you, pastor, for your kindness.
Indeed, Jesus saves.
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