A soul in need of prayers guides me to his grave

If souls go out their way of the netherworld to ask for prayers from the living, how eager would these souls be once they know of a person who is as eager as to pray for them even without them asking for it?

And how the soul helps you out especially when you, the intercessor, never know what the name of the soul is! 

The soul I wanted to pray for was the soul of the father of a childhood friend. 

But this friend would not give me the name of her father no matter how I insisted. 

It might be because this friend resented over my non-appearance to her father's funeral. 

I was broke at the time, nothing to even buy load for my cellular phone to contact and inform her of the matter. 

I was even too sick to walk my way to the wake. 

Because of this, I never knew the cemetery where the remains of her father was to be buried. 

After burial, I was able to secure some money to contact her and asked for the name of her father -- for prayers! 

But she would not reply pertaining to her father's name. 

I was thinking, she might change religion that never believes in soul-praying. 

Well, enough of speculations! 

The soul would find ways to let me know of its name. 

For, souls are in dire need of prayers. 

Souls even visit the living through dreams to tell of this intercessory need of theirs. 

I left everything to the soul and I let myself forget about it. 

One day, I came to visit my mother's grave. 

After praying for my mother's soul, I decided to do "slow-walking" towards the interior of the cemetery while saying another rosary -- this time, for other souls whose mortal bodies are buried in those grounds. 

Along the way, towards the end of the cemetery, I noticed a freshly-laden grave with the name"Severino" of the family name of my friend inscribed on the marker. 

"Was your father's name Severino?" I asked my friend via text message. 

Her reply was vague. 

A typo error, it could be understood as "no" or "yes" by our dialect. 

But a common neighbor of ours whom I had never seen for years came to our house and I had the chance to ask for the name of the father of our common friend. 

And the reply was: "SEVERINO!"

Lost and found

You lost a sacred thing of long ago; but one night, you had a dream. You saw a white something.

Was it a cloud — or a smoke? No human form, it was. And yet, it spoke and it gave something back to you. 

“Friends again?” it said as it returned the thing you lost, the thing that is yours — the rosary of old. And you awoke. 

Was it the Lady — or the Virgin? The “white something” was more of a soul, the soul of somebody who took the thing from you — the mother of mine. 

The rosary? The father of mine. The marriage of yours. 

Many times had you gone to look for it; but many times had you failed. And when you learned to let go, only then that it found you. 

(To stepmother)

The rosary of wood

In the silence of the night, a Woman appeared. Through a pore on the roof, She entered. As if being beamed out from above. Without the brightness of Her glory, She came simply. Almost the whiteness of Her garment, Her deep blue cloak hid. Never She spoke, but a message She had. Never Her face was lit that I saw, but on the things Her hands were holding I was all eyes -- rosaries of two! On Her right palm was laid a rosary of wood: on the other, a rosary of gold. In a manner so gently, with hands open, She presented both to me; and, slowly, put forward Her right hand with the wooden rosary. Then, through which She came in, She left. Of the two, She was gesturing to choose the rosary of wood. Of simplicity in life despite Wealth. Of obscurity despite Fame. For not for our own whim but for His Own Will that wealth and fame be spent.