Life has a funny way of connecting us with people, often when we least expect it. For me, this remarkable journey started two years ago—though I didn’t know it at the time. I was casually scrolling through Facebook one evening when a friend suggestion caught my eye. It was Laila. Her profile picture radiated warmth, with a beautiful, genuine smile that was impossible to ignore. The humorous caption beneath it added a playful charm, instantly grabbing my attention. Curious, I decided to take a closer look.
As I explored her profile, I noticed something unique about her—she frequently shared posts about congregation meetings, assemblies, and ministry work. Her spirituality stood out, and it left a lasting impression on me. She seemed so grounded and purposeful. Without overthinking it, I sent her a friend request. However, to my slight disappointment, it went unanswered. Life moved on, and I eventually forgot about it.
Fast forward to February 2024. One night, while scrolling through Facebook again, a notification appeared: Laila Lagade accepted your friend request. At first, I was confused. I couldn’t recall sending any recent friend requests, so I clicked on her profile to jog my memory. That’s when it hit me—this was the same Laila I had sent a request to two years ago.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to break the ice with a simple message: “Thank you sa pag-accept 😊.” To my surprise, she replied almost instantly with a warm, “You’re welcome.” And just like that, our conversation began.
As we exchanged messages, I was amazed by how naturally we connected, as if we’d known each other for years. We discovered we had many mutual friends, which made our exchanges feel even more familiar. What really struck me, though, was when we pieced together the timeline and realized she was indeed the same person I had sent a friend request to all those months ago.
Our conversations grew livelier and more playful with each passing day. One moment, in particular, stands out. During one of our chats, Laila joked about not feeling well and cheekily claimed that the only cure for her “sickness” was samgyeopsal—Korean barbecue. Laughing along, I teased her that I was suffering from the same “condition” and probably needed samgyup too. That playful exchange turned into a lighthearted promise: I told her that I was planning a trip to the Philippines for vacation and would be attending the 2024 Memorial. I added—half-jokingly, half-seriously—that I’d make my way to Pangasinan to visit her.
At first, she didn’t believe me. She thought I was just teasing and laughed it off. But I wasn’t kidding. Little did she know, this trip would not only bring us face-to-face but would also change the course of our lives in ways neither of us could have imagined.