Remembering My Father on Father’s Day

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By Tess Martinez

Little House on the Prairie

When my children were small, Little House on the Prairie was a TV show we all looked forward to on Saturday evenings. I liked the family story and the ideal setup in the countryside. I loved the family values we derived from it. The story was values oriented and to this day promotes those values to the four corners of the world as well as my own home. Lessons we will not soon forget.

My Love for Farm Life

Life in the countryside is deeply rooted in me… The little house on the prairie created a longing, a vision, etching itself into my consciousness, remaining as a dream for more than twenty-five years. It was a dream I shared with my father, a dream of simple, faithful country life. Sad to say, when the dream became a reality, he went home to the Father’s house about five years ago. What a dream home he has now!

Retiring on a farm is my dream. Life maybe too laidback but it is good for the soul.
I am looking forward to writing, a passion I missed out on while raising our four children. Yes, I believe my time is come…time to write…to…

To Honor My Father

The farmhouse of my dreams became a reality when our two sons received their Architectural Degree from the University of Santo Tomas, my own Alma Mater. Our two sons designed the farmhouse of my childhood dreams based on the vision long cherished in my mind. God is really so very good you know. He never forgets our dreams.

Finally, we had our dream take shape, tucked ever so beautifully among the vegetation of our little farm. Little House on the Prairie, you have nothing on us.

The yellow house is nestled among tropical fruit bearing trees giving ambiance to the unique landscape. Trees abound as the smell of the flowering coffee in the early morning reminds me of my childhood. Yes, all is to honor my father’s love for his farm, to honor his untiring efforts and dedication, enabling all of us to attend good universities.

Fruits for every season are bountiful: lanzones, chico, rambutan, guyabano, mango, tamarind, camias, duhat, santol and a lot more. Most of the trees were patiently planted by my father, an excellent farmer. To this day we enjoy the fruits of his labor in the natural and the spiritual.

My Solitary Star

My father used to tell us the moon and the stars are God-given light for the poor country people. As little children, we loved to play hide and seek on moonlit nights. We loved star gazing on the open terrace. Nothing compares to the beauty of the heavenly bodies displayed on a starry night silhouetted by tall coconut trees.

Closing my eyes, I can still feel the deafening silence of many glorious nights-nights where only calm, peace and quiet made way for the twinkling lights of Heaven. Opening my eyes, I could always see my bright SOLITARY STAR from afar, distinct and prominent. We really knew each other very well, my star and I. God’s presence is always among the stars for He holds the universe and all it contains within the palm of His hand. Yes Jesus, you are my one true Solitary Star.

My Plans

We bought a computer for my yellow house as I wished to start writing inspired by the natural beauty surrounding me. I even planned to have a little gallery to paint and enjoy pottery. None of these things ever materialized. I really wondered why…

Gardening was my only hobby that found fulfillment in those days. For five years, my computer remained almost untouched, silently waiting for a day…the day. The entire place and the improvements engulfed our entire being. Our one on one times as a family and priceless sharing of beautiful thoughts expressing our gratitude to God never found their way to the computer keys.

Every weekend was a busy time for gardening, lots of entertaining and cooking. Very few of the books on the shelves I had collected for many years were read. I often wondered…yes, I often wondered…why…

Home Away From Home

There was prayer time and scripture readings early morning and before retiring. I felt I was in a home away from home in my little yellow house so well furnished and delightful, nestled among such fruitfulness.

However, Sunday after lunch we always headed back to our original home in the city, about an hours drive along the expressway. The longest we stayed was three days. There was no permanency. All our visits were hurried and the ability to stay longer has always been a wish.

The Void

Our hearts never seemed satisfied…why? I never started writing…why?

Journaling was difficult…and why was that…the desire for my Solitary Star, Jesus to permeate me in a deeper way, to peel away my superficial layers and allow beauty to be inhaled by my spirit, by my soul was there…but time…where was time…

Most of the frames and artwork I collected for many years remained inside boxes.
The oven I bought, in anticipation of more baking, remained cold and indifferent…remained unused. Was it because of our concerns in the city? We had many things and a plan but very little time.

Indeed, all are in the hands of our loving God. Did we have the tyranny of the place and the dream mixed up? Two seemingly opposite things trying to exist together in a real world was our quandary. God knowing us had His own way of cautioning, but did we listen? He must always be first or nothing else will ever fit into place, even our dreams as good as they may be.

Indeed, our hearts will never be fully satisfied for “Our hearts will be restless until they rest in thee.” We will always yearn for something more and more…until…

My main consolation is this; I was able to fulfill my father’s wish to have the house of his dreams. This is now the house of my 81 year-old mother. Our memories will always be alive for as long as our own family line and future generations perpetuate. A legacy that is, and will always be a beautiful, nostalgic memory to ponder on, to savor and reminisce.

I can hear my computer keys calling, beckoning me to come…beckoning me to come and remember…to remember our one on one times as a family…our priceless sharing of beautiful thoughts and expressions of gratitude toward God…calling me to come and pen the lessons of love, the lessons of life…to blow away the dust covering the thoughts of men lying in wait on my bookshelves…calling me to come and record my own…

My Love

Yes My Love, “I cover you, I am pleased with you, I treasure you, and I love you.”

I Will Come


When my heart grows lonely and my insecurity of being accepted engulfs me, allow me to remember the loving words of assurance You have spoken to me. Let Your enabling love warm my despondent soul. Allow Your Sacred Heart burning with love to warm my being. Cover me with Your humility, for meekness is Your gift to me. Give me a gentle and quiet spirit. Endow me patience to listen and appreciate innocent remarks. Remove any meanness in my heart. Let Your grace of contentment seep into my soul that I may think on what is good, kind, loving, fair and just.

Let not my heart be anxious with the views others may have of me, for indeed, You know me best. Let me not be flattered by the praises of others and grow vain and proud of myself. Allow me to have a stance of simplicity and humility. Always remind me, on my own I am nothing-yes, without You I am nothing, May I always remember this truth; I am just a steward of all I have and the same Lord that gives, takes away…only to give back more.

Yes Lord, I will come and with my pen I will bring to life the precious and nostalgic memories of my life, displaying Your faithfulness to restore and redeem.

Blow away the dust and let me see. Shine O’ Solitary Star, shine, and I will shine with You, bringing honor to you my heavenly Father as I bring honor to my father’s name. Amen

Tess Martinez Copyright 2007 All rights reserved

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About the Author


Brenda Craig is a published author, prophetic teacher and Seer whose desire is to know the Lord in all His fullness. Her writings and teachings reflect a deep intimacy with the Lord. As a worshiper, Brenda has received revelation on how to take the simple act of “Soaking in His Presence” to a new level and developed a teaching called Soaking with a Purpose.

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