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  • Declamation Piece

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    Dave Vincent Isip
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    This document contains two stories. The first is a plea from an aborted fetus to its mother not to end its life through abortion. The second story is told from the perspective of a young boy who seeks vengeance after losing his mother and father during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines in World War II. By the end of the story, after years of suffering, the boy realizes that vengeance belongs to God, not man.

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    This document contains two stories. The first is a plea from an aborted fetus to its mother not to end its life through abortion. The second story is told from the perspective of a young boy who seeks vengeance after losing his mother and father during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines in World War II. By the end of the story, after years of suffering, the boy realizes that vengeance belongs to God, not man.

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    © All Rights Reserved
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    235 views2 pages

    Declamation Piece

    Uploaded by

    Dave Vincent Isip
    This document contains two stories. The first is a plea from an aborted fetus to its mother not to end its life through abortion. The second story is told from the perspective of a young boy who seeks vengeance after losing his mother and father during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines in World War II. By the end of the story, after years of suffering, the boy realizes that vengeance belongs to God, not man.

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    of 2

    JHS-SHS Department

    FEMALE CATEGORY
    "The Plea of an Aborted Fetus"

    LET THIS PRECIOUS ANGELS LIVE!

    "SET ME FREE. LET ME LIVE, I DESERVE TO BE BORN, I WANT TO LIVE. FOR HEAVENS SAKE, HAVE
    PITY."

    Ladies and Gentlemen, dear fathers and mother, listen to my plea, listen to my story. I could have been the 17th
    Lady President of the Philippines Republic, had you given me the chance to live, had you not deprived me of my
    life, had you not taken away my privilege to be born.

    Some eleven years ago, a healthy ovum started to generate in the womb of a woman with six other children. My
    coming should be a herald of joy, a symbol of love incarnate but to my mommy it was a burden, a problem, an
    additional mouth to feed. To Dad, it was a mistake, an effect of Mom's carelessness for not taking the contraceptive
    pills.

    One gloomy day in June, my unexpected coming was confirmed. It was a painful decision. I could sense the
    imminent danger as Mom got inside the abortion room. I was an unwanted child. No one loved me. No one cared. I
    was a rejected being, a tiny lump slowly forming into human being with human soul. I was already alive, kicking,
    struggling. My heart was already beating and my thumb had already the unique mark. As I was holding to my
    mother's womb a splash of heat came all over me. I writhed in extreme pain.

    -- "Mom, why have you done this to me? Am I not the flesh of your own flesh, the blood of your own blood?"

    The rubber suction caught my tiny limbs and mercilessly twisted it slowly cutting it from my body. I struggled for
    my life. 1,2,3 and the first part of me came out.

    -- "Mom, why have you permitted this? Am I not Dad's pledge of love to you?"

    Then it was followed by another rubber suction sucking the other part moving it with force until both were fully
    amputated.

    -- "Mom, why have you done this to me? Am I not God's image you promised to love and protect?"

    Then i felt shaken once, twice, several times until I do not know anymore what has been going around. I gushed
    forth my last breath...

    Then came the final blow, my head - the abortionist termed as No. I was totally cut from my torso: total annihilation.

    GONE IS MY CHANCE TO LEAD A HEALTHY NORMAL LIFE.


    GONE IS MY CHANCE TO BEHOLD THE MANY LOVELY THINGS GOD CREATED FOR US.
    GONE IS THE PROMISE OF A BLISSFUL LIFE.
    JHS-SHS DEPARTMENT
    MALE CATEGORY
    “Vengeance is not ours...It's God's”

    Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a child so young, so thin, and so
    ragged.

    Why are you staring at me? With my eyes I cannot see but I know that you are all staring at me. Why are
    you whispering to one another? Why? Do you know my mother? Do you know my father? Did you know
    me five years ago? Yes, five years of bitterness have passed. I can still remember the vast happiness
    mother and I shared with each other. We were very happy indeed.

    Suddenly, five loud knocks were heard on the door and a deep silence ensued. Did the cruel Nippon’s
    discover our peaceful home? Mother ran to Father’s side pleading. “Please, Luis, hide in the cellar, there
    in the cellar where they cannot find you,” I pulled my father’s arm but he did not move. It seemed as
    though his feet were glued to the floor.
    The door went “bang” and before us five ugly beasts came barging in. “Are you Captain Luis Santos?”
    roared the ugliest of them all. “Yes,” said my father. “You are under arrest,” said one of the beasts. They
    pulled father roughly away from us. Father was not given a chance to bid us goodbye.

    We followed them mile after mile. We were hungry and thirsty. We saw group of Japanese eating. Oh,
    how our mouths watered seeing the delicious fruits they were eating,
    Then suddenly, we heard a voice call, “Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . . Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . . Consuelo. . . .
    Oscar. . . .” we ran towards the direction of the voice, but it was too late. We saw father hanging on a tree.
    . . . dead. Oh, it was terrible. He had been badly beaten before he died. . . . and I cried vengeance,
    vengeance, vengeance! Everything went black. The next thing I knew I was nursing my poor invalid
    mother.

    One day, we heard the church bell ringing “ding-dong, ding-dong!” It was a sign for us to find a shelter in
    our hide-out, but I could not leave my invalid mother, I tried to show her the way to the hide-out.
    Suddenly, bombs started falling; airplanes were roaring overhead, canyons were firing from everywhere.
    “Boom, boom, boom, boom!” Mother was hit. Her legs were shattered into pieces. I took her gently in my
    arms and cried, “I’ll have vengeance, vengeance!” “No, Oscar. Vengeance, it’s God’s,” said mother.
    But I cried out vengeance. I was like a pent-up volcano. “Vengeance is mine not the Lord’s”. “No, Oscar.
    Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s” these were the words from my mother before she died.
    Mother was dead and I was blind. Vengeance is not ours? To forgive is divine but vengeance is sweeter.
    That was five years ago, five years. . . .

    Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a child so young, so thin, and so
    ragged. Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s. . . . It’s. . . . God’s. . It's...

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