Walking along Yakal's first-floor corridor on my way to my dorm room, I heard a faintly familiar voice behind me. She was calling some name that didn't quite register to my ears, at least not after around fifteen seconds of her foot in her mouth. "Mary grace...?" she cautiously called/asked. Dead air. Then it hits me. I turned around and I saw an old classmate from way back grade school-- foot out of her mouth already, with a wide grin on her face.
Cut me some slack. I needed the time to absorb the idea of the two disjointed eras of my life encountering each other .
I've always been Grace, well, Mary Grace to this particular old friend. Ironically, I've never fully known grace, then. As a matter of fact, I hated my name. I hated how common it was. No, it wasn't really the name I guess, I just hated the fact that I was common; that i looked ordinary; that I did average; that i performed so-so. It was my pre-teen to adolescent struggle-- to be somebody; to stand out; to be... ugh... pathetic, I know... special. That, plus a name that would turn hundreds of heads in a crowded room.
And thus the master plan. Stepping to college-dom, I, my good friend Yo, and my roommate decided to change my name. Nothing legal. They just gave me a semi-common nickname. Yes that's how you came about calling me Meg. I guess, I thought then, that getting a new name changes everything about me.
Really, it didn't. I went about feeling the same way.
Regardless of the failed plan, the name stuck. Convenient 'twas, anyway, to give way to the Graces who wished to hold on to their names.
I remember my Mom used to say, "Grasya ka talaga!" (You're really "grace") whenever I get my aguinaldo, gifts, special favor or any unexpected provision in times of hopelesness. I never quite understood what she meant. Not until now.
I've been experiencing grace... no, let me rephrase that, I've been seeing grace with a new perspective lately.
Ain't it amazing? How things work out, though you're the least deserving? How you don't get fired from life when you don't even deserve the job at the first place? How your life is not even enough to pay-off all what you owe, yet you are still showered with gifts? How this One called Love, gives you hope anew? How you stand on Someone else's righteousness? I would recount all the ways, only, I know I would fail. My proud heart has probably overlooked far too much of this beautiful gift I receive each day.
Boy, do I feel special now.
I am Meg to most now. I learned that "Meg" means "a pearl". True enough, He has made sense of all the dirt and mire, and miraculously produced something beautiful with it.
But you can still call me Grace.
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