Mother Ignacia Healing Ministry10 Dec 2018 10:28 am

PROPHECY OF CHINA’S INVASION NOW HAPPENING * Both Military and Economic Invasions * eastwind

Both Military and Economic Invasions
eastwind journals
By Bernie V. Lopez,
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As you read this article, the Marian prophecy is actually being fulfilled by many ongoing events, both military and economic invasions.
God-given prophecies, especially of future disasters, are not absolute. They may or may not be fulfilled, depending on how we pray and atone for sins. The Lord can reverse or ‘cancel’ a prophecy of doom. He can change His mind when He sees us repent. Our prayers can thus avert future disasters.


Our Lady Mediatrix of All Grace told the prophecy to visionary Sister Teresing Castillo, a postulant in the Carmelite Order in Lipa City, of a looming ‘invasion’ of the Philippines by China, announced by Cardinal Vidal, former Archbishop of Lipa.. The message to Sr. Teresing was given on the 33rd year anniversary of Our Lady of Fatima, October 17, 1949, establishing the link between Fatima and the Mediatrix. The message read –


In October 17, 1949, Our Lady Mediatrix said, quoting Sister Teresing, “Pray hard, for China’s dream is to invade the whole world. The Philippines is one of its favorites.” (Source – Inquirer, July 13, 2014).


The economic invasion became visible with the infamous ZTE controversy in 2007. The government’s Philippine National Broadband Network forged the US$330 million (Php16.5 billion) NBN-ZTE deal. ZTE is a Chinese multinational telecom equipment giant. President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo (GMA) was forced to suspend the deal due to the bribery scandal.


The bigger global issue with ZTE and Huawei, another giant, was not over corruption but over cyber attacks and espionage. In 2012, the US banned trade with ZTE and Huawei due to violations of trade sanctions against Iran. (Source – huawei-zte-incur-wrath-washington). Australia, New Zealand, and Britain also banned the use of Huawai equipment in its 5G, 4G, and 3G programs. In December 2018, Japan announced the ban on government purchase contracts with ZTE and Huawei, due to “fears of intelligence leaks and cyber attacks” (Source – japan-tipped-to-ban-huawei-zte).


The State Grid Corporation of China is the majority stockholder of our National Grid Corporation of the Philippines (NGCP), which funds, manages and distribute power nationwide. This private firm may affect national security if controlled by foreigners.


There is now a move to bring a third Telco provider is to break the Smart-Globe duopoly. The ongoing (December 2018) billion-peso bid for the third Telco is feared by many as another potential Chinese ‘invasion’. China Telecom, reputed to have the blessings of Duterte, has partnered with local corporations as one of six bidders, a wrestling match among giants. China Telecom is part of the State-owned China Telecommunications Corp., which has a staggering 153 million internet customers. The third Telco is viewed by many as a giant that can easily overshadow Smart and Globe combined, who are accused of having one of the slowest broadband speed in Asia.


The third Telco has both advantages and disadvantages. It can dramatically improve broadband speed and quality and bring down prices. It may also be a venue for cyber attacks and espionage from the outside. The Telcos are strategic areas of political and national security importance.


It must be clarified that the US and other rich nations have been invading the Philippines economically in the last 5 decades. China the new player can, however, trigger an economic tsunami never before seen.


On the aspect of a military ‘invasion’, this is actually an ongoing affair in the South China Sea, with China’s occupation of islets and shoals claimed by the Philippine, Vietnam, Taiwan and Japan. These occupations are military in nature because they involve the building of airports and seaports capable of hosting warplanes, warships, missile siloes and rapid troop movements.  These facilities are a form of military invasion because they are unilateral and confiscatory, without dialogues or agreements with the other claimant nations.


Prayer for Peace


The Carmelite Sisters of Lipa have been praying for China ever since that Marian prophecy, for they believe peace can still be attained through prayers. Marian Devotees are asking Pope Francis to consecrate China to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, just as St. John Paul II, the first Fatima Pope, consecrated Russia in 1984, which led to the first-ever visit of a Russian leader (Gorbachev) to the Vatican, to the restoration of religious freedom in Russia, and to the end of the Cold War after the collapse of the Berlin Wall. The consecration of China by Pope Francis, the ‘second Fatima Pope’, will hopefully lead to an era of peace in the Asia Pacific Region.


China’s ‘Nine-Dash’ initiative, claiming 80% of South China Sea, hugging the entire western flank of the Philippine coastline, affirms the prophecy’s statement, “the Philippines (as) one of (China’s) favorites”.  


Learning lessons from the dialogue of St. John Paul II and Gorbachev, strategic diplomatic moves of the Philippines in dealing with China must be balanced with prayers, spiritual and temporal wisdoms. What the shrewdest diplomatic strategies cannot attain, simple prayers may be able to. For nothing is impossible for the Lord.


by Bernie V. Lopez,
Blogger/Columnist-Journalist-Broadcaster, 35 years / Healing Ministry, 27 years
Inquirer * Business World * Manila Times * Manila Chronicle * Radio Veritas
Healing Ministry of Srs. Raquel/Gloria, RVM * for healing inquiries send email








eastwind journals05 Dec 2018 09:19 am

THE LECHON KID – A Christmas Story of a Street Kid in Blumentritt * eastwind

A Christmas Story Inspired by a Street Kid in Blumentritt
eastwind journals
by Bernie V. Lopez,
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in the beginning was the Word
and the Word was with God
and the Word was God
the Light glowed in the darkness
and the darkness could not overcome the Light
He was in the world
that came to be through Him
but the world did not know Him
He came to what was His own
but His own did not accept Him
and the Word became flesh and lived among us
john 1:1-14 excerpts
Wherever you are, Richard, street kid of Blumentritt, God bless you.
The Blumentritt-La Loma area is the lechon (roast pig) capital of Metro-Manila. The 50-odd stalls in an eight-block area sell an average of 300 to 400 lechons or about 1.5 million pesos on a non-Christmas day. During Christmas, this doubles to up to about 3 million pesos a day. In this strange part of the city, poverty and affluence see each other eyeball to eyeball. 
One Christmas season, a spiritual event descends on Blumentritt. Five-year-old Richard (true name withheld) is the Lord’s courier to send His Christmas tidings to all, rich and poor, just like the kings and shepherds Bethlehem 2000-odd years ago. Richard has no family, no home. He lives alone underneath a small bridge.
When there is a storm, Richard quickly gathers his things into a plastic bag before the flood would come. He would run to the priest in a nearby church to take him in. After the storm, he is back to restore his cozy home. The priest offers a tiny space in a storage room, but he refuses. He treasures his privacy more. The police comes regularly to shoo him away, as living under a bridge is dangerous. But he is back after a few days with the priest. The police finally gets tired of shooing him away. 
The priest gives him a plate of hot steaming rice for breakfast daily. At break of day, Richard roams the lechon stalls, clutching his plastic plate of steaming rice. By that time, the pigs which are being roasted since 3 to 4 a.m. are hot and ready for the first buyers. At Mang Kiko’s stall, five lechons are standing diagonally on bamboo poles, leaning against the wall, deep red-brown, glistening like sports cars.
Richard places his plate of rice underneath the biggest and lets the oil from the lechon drip to his plate. Mang Kiko sees Richard and ignores him. After 15 minutes and 20 drips, he takes his plate, puts some patis (liquid fish salt) from the table, goes out, and starts to eat with bare dirty hands on the sidewalk, standing. When he finishes, he goes to Mang Kiko, wipes his hand clean, places it on his forehead, saying, “God bless you, Mang Kiko”. Mang Kiko would shoo him away. It is Richard’s way of thanking people. 
At mid-day, he has a plan on how to get lunch. He spots a new egg vendor. So he pretends to limp exaggeratedly towards the woman vendor and just stands there in front of her, hoping to get some sympathy. The woman vendor stares at him. He does not even put his palm out. He just stands there and smiles, irresistible to any decent soul, and he knows it. Finally, the woman gives her two salted eggs. He jumps with joy and hugs her, who quickly pries herself loose from his dirty grasp.
Richard – My name’s Richard. What’s yours?
Aling Fely – Fely. Okay, go, shoo.
Richard – God bless you, Aling Fely.
Aling Fely – I know you’re not lame. Stop pretending.
Richard - I know you know. I was trying to be funny.
Aling Fely – Get out of here.
He puts his hand on her forehead, giving her a God-bless-you, and she yanks it away. Next, he goes over to a sidewalk mini-eatery. A mother and son are just standing up after eating. Richard quickly grabs the left over rice from their two plates and puts it in a plastic bag from his pocket. Nobody notices. He goes over to the eatery owner and gives her a God-bless-you before she shoos him away. After roaming around for two hours, he is outside a dirty barbershop. It’s lunch time. He sits on a bench. He peels the two salted eggs, puts them in the plastic bag together with the rice, and pounds the bag against the wall – a feast with bare unwashed hands. 
After resting a bit, he goes over to the coconut juice vendor, and drinks left over juice from two plastic cups before they are thrown into the garbage. He puts the empty cups on like slippers, and hangs on the rear railing of a passenger jeepney, and, as it moves away, he slides on the pavement, using the cups as his ‘skis’ – ingenious but noisy. He ignores people shouting at him to get off. The burly coconut juice vendor picks him up with one hand. Before he leaves, he gives the coconut vendor his God-bless-you.
In the evening, Richard stalks another lechon stall, the biggest in the area, which displays as many as a dozen lechons at any given time. Hiding within the forest of lechons, he takes a pair of mini-scissors from his pocket and cuts off two 6-inch pig tails of lechon. Aling Donna, the owner, sees him at the corner of her eye but pretends she does not. Richard goes over to her and gives her a God-bless-you hug, for which he is rewarded a plate of rice. That is one sumptuous dinner, two 6-inch pig tails on rice. The next day, after his breakfast of lechon fat on rice, Mang Kiko confronts him. 
Mang Kiko – Hey Richard. Do you know I sold ten lechons yesterday? That’s a record. As soon as you left, a lady bought all five lechons. So, I ordered five more which were all sold before noon.
Richard – That’s because I told God to bless you. You give to me, He gives to you. Haha.
Mang Kiko -I give you twenty drips of lechon fat and He gives me P12,000 income in one day? That’s a bit lopsided.
Richard – You don’t know Him. He didn’t take up Accounting. He’s poor in Math. As long as you give, He gives back more than you give. You better believe it, (proudly) God gave to you because I asked him.
Mang Kiko - Maybe so. (Richard begins to leave.) Hey, hey, bless me first.
Richard puts a hand on Mang Kiko’s forehead and blesses him. Onlookers begin to laugh. Next day, Mang Kiko sells 14 lechons. Richard’s God-bless-you image yielding big income spreads like wildfire. He is giving God-bless-you’s to vendors left and right. The mini-eatery quadruples its income. The juice vendor sells a record 44 coconuts instead of the usual 15. Aling Fely quintuples her egg sales and is now diversifying into balut (fertilized duck’s egg). Aling Donna, the lechon tycoon, sells a staggering 46 in one day. Mysteriously, buyers are coming from nowhere. Richard is getting fat, eating all the lechon he can, no longer drips or tails, but the real McCoy. 
The Lord moves in strange ways to inspire, to sanctify, to bless. Especially during Christmas, you may bump into Him in the nooks and crevices of everyday life, among poor street kids and rich street vendors. He blesses the poor to sanctify the rich. Such was the role of Richard, the gentle-hearted, the God-bless-you kid, The Lechon Kid of Blumentritt. Bernie V. Lopez
An excerpt from the book Ten Wisdoms of the Lord’s Prayer. Email to order.

p57B – On the occasion of the feast of Christ the King last Sunday.

eastwind journals23 Nov 2018 08:37 am

CHRISTMAS WITH MUSLIMS AND JEWS – A True Adventure Story * eastwind

A True Adventure Story
eastwind memoirs
by Bernie V. Lopez,
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the greatest christmas gift a father can give a son
is to spend time with him and share his wisdom
a new cellphone or a car means less
material gifts fade, spiritual gifts last

To the millions of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) worldwide, who cannot come home for Christmas, this true story is for you.


At the age of 26, I left New York City to embark on an adventure of a lifetime, dubbed eastwind, hitchhiking 25,000 kilometers for 3 long years, drifting through 18 countries in Europe and North Africa. The story below is an excerpt from a book I subsequently wrote –
Wings and Wanderlust – the Art of Discovering Your Inner Self.


I arrived in Athens, hitchhiking from Rome to Bari, took a ship to Dubrovnic in Yugoslavia, then to Athens, melting pot of stray North African drifters. I was the only Filipino drifter. The rest of the Pinoys were mostly chambermaids, sailors, and musicians. This was in the mid-70s.


Eastwind at 26 years old, circa late 70s, Amsterdam.

Three drifters – French, Mauritian, Filipino, circa late 70s, Pisa, Itally. Note the eastwind sweater.


Christmas was around the corner. Weeks before, I knew I would get homesick. I never spent one Christmas outside the warmth of home and family. I met a Sudanese guy, a Jewish girl and a host of Arabs and North Africans in my cheap hostel. Drifters and refugees seeking jobs stuck together like magnet, becoming instant friends.


Early Christmas eve, I was in panic where to go and what to do at midnight. I could look for Filipino sailors in Pireaus or just get drunk. I chose the latter. I collected money from the guys (about ten of us), announc­ing a midnight drinking party. Everyone screamed. I bought the terrible cheap Greek wine called retsina, which smelled like aviation gas. I also got vodka, gin and tequila, enough to trigger a nuclear blast. Arabs and Jews normally did not cel­ebrate Christ­mas but the holiday feeling was in the air in Athens, so we had this grand party at the hostel. Arabs also normally did not drink. Not this bunch.


It was a wild noisy party. At eleven o’clock in the evening, we were all goners. I tried to hide my loneliness and depression, but everyone, especially the keen Jewish girl, could see it. They were trying to comfort me. After all, I was the only Christian in a sea Islam and Judaism. At half past eleven, I stood up, wobbled a bit, and quietly sneaked out. No one would not miss me because everyone was drunk.


The cold December air and the sudden silence jarred me from my stupor. I instinctively walked towards music I could hear. My hair stood on end and my drunk state vanished momentarily. It was a midnight Mass, an oasis in the middle of a vast desert. The church was overflowing, so I stayed outside the entrance. They sang “Oh Holy Night”, and my eyes were getting wet.


I felt guilty but it was better going to Christmas mass drunk than not going at all. It was my total refuge from my total loneli­ness, the warmth of church with many people singing carols – from deafening noise to silence, from wildness to serenity, from drunkenness to solemnity. It was a wide pendulum swing. I wanted to go to communion, but changed my mind, as I might trip along the aisle. I just prayed and sang ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ with the crowd. Bethlehem was just a stone’s throw away. More, five stones perhaps.


Almost at the end of the mass, someone elbowed me. It was the Jewish girl. I turned around and saw the whole gang. They followed me to church. They wrapped the vodka and gin in paper bags. They started giggling. I was embar­rassed as church-goers started staring. But then again, I was touched. Friends who did not believe in Christmas believed in friendship. They came to Mass to share themselves with me on this precious day. I was almost in tears. That was the greatest Christmas gift on the road, given by a bunch of non-Christians. We left and were rowdy in the streets, shouting and singing, as we went back to the hostel. They sang strange Arab songs. My loneli­ness disappeared.


“Hey, guys, thanks. I really appreciate it,” I said.


“We’re all in the same boat, Bernie, remember,” the Jewish girl answered. “We’re all away from home. We have to stick together. Especially in our moments of being alone. We are family.”


I embraced her and the guys hooted, pushing us to each other. Back at the hostel, I asked for an attendance report. Everyone shouted his/her origin – Tel Aviv, Khartoum, Marrekesh, Manila, Cairo, Dakar, Tunis. I forget the others. Come to think of it, they were more Muslim North Africans rather than Arabs, descendants of Bedouins and Berbers, nomads of the Sahara converted to Islam. They were mostly escaping the physical poverty of their North African homelands, looking for jobs in Athens, or going north to Paris or London or Copenhagen. I and the Jewish girl were escaping the spiritual poverty of affluent societies. Whereas the North Africans were looking for jobs, the Jewish girl and I were looking for ourselves.


We slept at about three in the morning only because there were no more to drink and the stores were closed. Everybody filed back to their rooms. I would never forget that Christmas. Like in Las Palmas, Andorra, Algarve, Pisa, Munich, Grenoble, Marseilles, and many other places, I had this gift of serendipity, the gift of ‘accidentally’ bumping into good people and good places on the road. That is my Christmas story.


To the OFWs out there, when the opportunity comes, drop everything and take wings, while you are young or not so young. Eastwind may never blow your way again.


by Bernie V. Lopez,


Order the book as a Christmas gift to friends, 450.00 pesos, all in,
Sent to anywhere in the Philippines, right at their doorsteps,
By JRS within 2-3 days (allow FOR CHRISTMAS TRAFFIC),
For outside the Philippines – US$30. Order by email



a poem for free spirits


albatrosses like eagles do not flock
you find them one at a time
they embark on long journeys in solitude
migrating from pole to pole with ease
sleeping for hours as they glide effortlessly
occasionally, high up in the stratosphere
there is a chance encounter
two albatrosses glide together
for a brief moment in time
wingtip to wingtip
viewing the earth below
then other albatrosses from nowhere join in
in a sudden thunderstorm
they dive into a tailspin
holding on to each other’s spirit
until turbulent winds taper
on occasions, they spot a green oasis
in the middle of the vast desert
they dive quickly for a precious drink
then they soar up again effortlessly in spirals
catching violent warm updrafts
attaining a thousand meters in minutes
back into the comfort of the stratosphere
then they suddenly part ways without plan
back to solitude
until the next chance encounter
sometime somehow somewhere
when wingtips touch other wingtips once more
in some forgotten cloud


eastwind journals21 Nov 2018 06:56 am

HITCHHIKING WITH A GUITAR – an adventure of a lifetime * eastwind

An Adventure of a Life Time
eastwind memoirs
by Bernie V. Lopez,
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Dedicated to the millions of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) worldwide. Dear OFW, If you have earned some money, drop everything and take wings while you are young, or not so young.
At the age of 26, I left New York to embark on an adventure of a lifetime that I dubbed eastwind, hitchhiking 25,000 kilometers for 3 long years, drifting through 18 countries in Europe and North Africa. This was in the mid-70s.
I hitchhiked with a 5-kilo backpack and a 6-kilo Spanish guitar that I bought in Zarauz in Spain. Everywhere I went, I dragged this heavy guitar for a reason – it was a ‘magic wand’ on the road. I discarded the rule in backpacking to travel light.

Three drifters – French, Mauritian, Filipino. Pisa, Italy circa late 70s. Note the eastwind sweater.

Eastwind at age 26. Amsterdam circa late 70s.

The true stories below are excerpts from a book I subsequently wrote, Wings and Wanderlust – the Art of Discovering Your Inner Self. It took me two weeks to write the book from memory, sleeping one to two hours a day, in fear of forgetting my story.

Somewhere north of Hamburg, I picked up a ride from a stately Mercedes Benz. They were an elegant Danish couple and spoke perfect English. I discovered later they owned one of the largest food corporations in Denmark. Conversations reconstructed.“
         So you are on an adventure, young man,” the woman said.
         “Yes ma’am. Bound for Copenhagen.”
         “First time I see someone hitching with a heavy guitar.”
         “It’s my magic wand, ma’am.”
         She laughed, “A magic wand, eh? You’re in luck, we are going to Copenhagen. Where are you staying in Copenhagen.”
         “I have friends in Christiania, ma’am.”
         “Christiania? That is a terrible place. Very dangerous. A lot of drug addicts.”
         “No choice, ma’am. But I will be alright.”
         “Maybe you are just trying to save money. Copenhagen is an expensive place.”
         “Yes, I am, ma’am. I have been travelling more than a year now.”
         “More than a year, wow. You’re an albatross migrating from pole to pole. You must stay in the youth hostel. I insist. I will give you 200 croners, okay?
         “Okay, ma’am,” I said.
I knew I would take the money and stay anyway with Jansen and Marijke in Christiania, a couple I met in Portugal. I lied because I did not want to offend her. Her husband gave me 200 croners (about $40 then).
We reached Flensburg and crossed the border to Denmark, and took a car ferry boat to Copenhagen. We went up for a sumptuous dinner in a nice restaurant at the upper deck. After dinner, wanting to please the kind and sweet lady, I offered to sing to them.
So, I played a Filipino song and two numbers of the Beatles for lack of anything else. They clapped. The lady took out another 100 croners and gave it to me. In a few hours and for a few songs, I earned about $60, more than I did in Andorra on hard labor for two weeks. And it was at a time my money was running low.
As I toured the city the next day, I stumbled into a park. There was a big crowd. There was this all-male quartet playing fast instrumental folk music.
The violin solo was fantastic. There were two nylon guitars and a conga for percussion. The quartet placed two empty guitar cases open in front of them. They played for 30 solid minutes of mesmerizing music to the thrill of the crowd. Children started sitting on the pavement. Every number was followed by a resounding applause. When the concert was over, a rain of coins fell on the two guitar cases, the clinking sound reverberating inside my soul. In a moment, both cases where two-inch deep in coins. After the show, I went over to talk to the group.


         “Irish, am I right?” I asked.
         The leader answered in thick Irish accent, “Yup. That’s right. Danish folk music is similar to Irish, fast violin rhythm. They like it.”
         “How much do you earn in a 30-minute stint?”
         “About $200?”
        “In 30 minutes? Wow. That is $50 each. If you play the whole afternoon, you earn about…”
         “….. two to three hundred dollars each.”, he interrupted me.
Next day, I played solo in the same plaza for 30 minutes. I did not get a big crowd but earned $20. The day after, I went through the bars. I brought my guitar to audition. Mostly, I was ignored. Finally, in one bar, I played Simon and Garfun­kel’s ‘El Condor Pass’, the mana­ger’s favorite. I was hired instantly for $25 a night, three times a week. I knew I would earn more on the streets, but this was another type of adventure, singing in a bar.
On my first night, I prepared a twenty-minute repertoire of Simon and Garfunkel and Beatle songs and chucked in a few Filipino songs. The crowd was not even listening. I kept on playing. I did not feel ridiculous. I did 3 20-minute sets per night. I played the same repertoire for all sets. After a while, I started feeling ridiculous. After three nights, I gave up. I couldn’t do it any­more, not even for good money. I earned exactly $75 which was not bad.
I met backpacking Derek in Manila 15 years ago. I was in a bank then, he was doing a Westwind. Now, in Munich, I was on doing an Eastwind and he was the ‘slave’. His Japanese wife, Teiko, was kind to me.
          “I feel like playing the guitar in the streets but I don’t have the courage,” I said.
         “Why not?” Derek was excited. “You can do it. C’mon. The money would be good here.”
         “I was arrested in Athens together with an American for playing in the subway,” I countered.
         “The Germans are the most open people in Europe.”
         “Yeah, I know. This is a hitchhiker’s haven,” I said.
         “You know why, Bernie?” Teiko spoke.
         “Because they suffered a lot during the war.”
         “You’re saying pain makes you a good person?”
         “Precisely and comfort does the opposite.”
Teiko got an old woollen blanket, cut a slit at the center, and put the blanket over me. It was a perfect poncho. I looked like a Mexican version of Clint Eastwood. We laughed. Teiko took out a pair of old woollen gloves. She cut off the finger ends except the thumb. I could play the frets from my exposed fingers, and my hand was gloved against the October air.
I stood for a long while at the platz, scared of looking ridiculous on a poncho. Then eastwind flapped its wings, unafraid. I placed the empty guitar case open in front of me. I started singing. Like in Morocco and Portugal, I played the Filipino Christ­mas song first. Then I tried a Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘El Condor Pass’. That got them. I saw a few five-mark coins fall into my case with a sweet clink. I did some Beatle songs and achieved the confidence of John Lennon.
It was not the easy income that drove me, but the adventure. They stopped momentarily, looked at me, smiled, dropped in a coin or two, and left. I did not draw a crowd. So what? In an hour, I got 22 marks or $44. Not bad for an amateur. I did another stint the next day for two hours and got 31 marks or $62. A hundred dollars in two days.
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by Bernie V. Lopez,
Blogger/Columnist-Journalist-Broadcaster, 35 years / Healing Ministry, 27 years
Inquirer * Business World * Manila Times * Manila Chronicle * Radio Veritas
Healing Ministry of Srs. Raquel/Gloria, RVM * for healing inquiries send email
AND ABROAD AT US$30. Order by email at

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