"...the mystery of life lies in the unexpected twists and turns that we meet along the way. Just when we thought the road is paved and smooth we encounter a bump that forces us to take a detour to some rutted, potholed street...yet, the beauty of it is that before we stumble upon that roadblock, we are able to have a life. We are allowed to laugh, to cry, and to exist the way we want to..."

--Nicel Jane D. Avellana
Cancer Survivor

My Name is Welnar P Rivas; I was born on August 7, 1993
in San Jose, Sursogon.

My mother sent me to school in Siaton, at Felipe Tayco Memorial School.
I have a problem for hearing and I can’t talk but
I go to school. I get hurt because of my situation. My aunt Jocelyn knows that there is
One Candle Schoolhouse in Tambobo. So my cousin brings my picture
and asks if for me to be a student of this school
because I want to know how to use the computer.

In One Candle Schoolhouse there is a donation to solve my problem.
I receive a hearing aid and that’s a big help for me. I learn many things like drawing, painting, and designing eggshell boxes.
I’m so happy to be a student in this school
because all the students are understand my situation.

Painting by Welnar

Last week, Welnar was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was a passenger on a small motorbike, riding to his regular school in nearby Siaton. In rural Philippines, this is the local mode of transportation. It was a tragic accident, the driver not noticing the turn signal of the utility truck ahead of him before trying to pass. In the collision, Welnar was thrown and hit his head. Though Siaton has a hospital, it is only equipped to do X-rays. He was taken to Dumaguete, ninety minutes away, where he died.

During the same week, published in Dumaguete's weekly paper, the MetroPost, columnist Nicel Avellana mused how it would be if everyone were given a book at birth titled, How to Live. Within this book would be advice for each individual on which paths to take, and their consequences. She postulates that if we did have such a book, "...we wouldn't have to keep guessing whether the decisions we make are sound or not."

Given such a book, Avellana then goes on to wonder how her parents would have reacted to the information that their newborn daughter would develop cancer at the age of twenty-six. She imagines they'd search for cures, become depressed at the odds given in the late 1970's, then "probably treat me like china...not allow me to have a normal childhood...(hoping) the prediction would somehow reverse itself." She even adds that they might have even "thought twice" about having their two other children.

When I first read the column, I wanted to share it with our niece whose six-week old daughter had just survived several surgeries, due to bile duct failure. Though the spectre of brain damage and a liver transplant still loom in little Tatum's future, she was home from the hospital, "eating and laughing and pooping" like a normal child. Wonderful news--but it was easy to imagine for our grandniece the author's feelings, that if her parents had known of her future cancer she, "...would have most certainly missed being a normal kid, and would have had to endure being fussed over at the slightest fall."

In the days following Welnar's death, I thought of how his mother, Rosalinda, widowed during her pregnancy, must have felt when her son was born deaf--and I realized that she had somehow found the grace to help her son "have a life...to laugh, to cry, and to exist the way (he) wanted to."

This blog was impulsively begun as a means to share the progress of the students with friends of our school. Grateful for a donation that made it possible to attend an event for Special Needs children and facilitate their Arts table , that first entry (Candle In The Park) promised to include more pictures in a later entry. Given that Welnar and April Rhine (our other deaf student) also participated in the games that day, it now seems fitting to close the circle by including in this memorial to Welnar, those children whose lives were also affected by "unexpected twists and turns."

Field Trip

The third day in December, we go to Dumaguete to attend the Norwegian Disabled Care Foundation to share our talent in other children.

The student in OCHS they are all happy when teaching the disable children. I proud in the disable children because they have talent to show people.

by John Mark Dominisac

Allan Lajot writes:

It’s very hard to teach a differently-abled child but they can do what you think they can’t.

I was very pleased with their great
performances. They made me think of how different people do different work.

One Candle Schoolhouse students

helping GP Rehab students
making some tie-dyes.

This is what the children made

When we go to Dumaguete I saw the children sitting at the wheelchair. When I look at them they are sad but they can do like what we can do because I can teach them to do tie-dye and make a flag with shell.

Charlie Palallos