Savannah was formally welcomed to the Christian world on Sunday, Nov. 24, 2013, at the San Nicolas de Tolentino Parish Church, Malabuyoc, Cebu.
It was a day of mirth and excitement for everyone in the family, considering that she was just born barely two weeks ago and there’s a Catholic belief that the earlier the baby is baptized, the better. I made a facetious comment in front of my family that if ever I gave birth today, I would most definitely have my baby baptized tomorrow, for my peace of mind and, more importantly, his or her welfare.
During the baptismal ceremony, I couldn’t help but fancy on the sacred bonnet which Savannah’s father, Ramil, put on her head, while the mother, Myrnamee, was holding her. To me, it just resembled a crown—a vivid, prophetic sign that Savannah will be Miss Universe twenty-some years from now. She is such a beauty to behold, and I, God willing, will move mountains in the future to make it happen.
Well, dreams are up for grabs, baby. And there is certainly nothing wrong with aiming for the top, the most prestigious beauty title of all: Miss Universe. I’m a firm believer in “the-power-of-intention / the-law-of-attraction / the-answers-to-our-prayers” maxim.
Whenever I lull Savannah to sleep in my arms, I tell her aloud: “Baby, you can’t be a singer—you will be a singer. And when you’re a singer, you will sing like Asia’s Songbird, Regine Velasquez, period.” And then I start lecturing her on the difference between “can” and “will”—that there’s power in our choice between modal verbs. It’s called “word power.”
Call me too fanatic, but even when Savannah, Kenshi, and Sebastian were just one day old, I already started talking them into how the ways of the world work in favor of those who believe in God. I say: “I love you. We love you. God loves you—and that’s the most powerful truth of all.”