Friend
Gil is one friend among the very few I have. And when I say few, I really mean fewer than few. He is known among veteran bikers in the local motorcycle community, and has been riding big bikes when I was probably still in grade school. Now at 66 years of age, doing 140 on the freeway is a stroll for him. When the circle of friends we were riding with eventually formalized itself into a club and I was opposed, he shared my sentiments against it. When I closed my welding shop in Parañaque and moved to Bulacan, that was our last contact. He has been in my prayers ever since the LORD found me. Time and again, I would be reminded to visit him and share the gospel, but I always had an excuse. I cannot help but think I had a fault in this and was to blame, that he had to be hurt before I would go to show my concern for his soul. This last week while fixing his bike alone in his home, his hand got caught inside the gears, trapping his index finger. For over an hour he tried to free himse...