  Note: I've been very hesitant on whether to post this or not. I feel like I'm baring my sould with this post. But, I decided to go for it. If urlLink Christine can be brave and others too, so can I. Here goes. (This post was inspired by urlLink asphaire's Serendipity post. ) When I contemplate the events that conspired to bring hubby and I together, I am forced to believe in destiny and fate.
I see God's hand in our union. I see it in every detail. He was born in a small town in Morocco, in Ouled-Khalif Nord. I was born in a small town in Candelaria, Quezon, Philippines. Two small towns in different corners of the world and our lives couldn't have been more different and similar at the same time. I loved my childhood, and he his, however different our childhood was. His was marked with freedom, skipping school, roaming the streets with friends, and getting into trouble.
Mine was marked with a laughing family, though an overprotective one that kept me indoors almost all the time in the city. I was allowed some freedom only in Candelaria, where the streets were small and everyone knew me as the Principal's grandaughter. I was always an obedient girl. In the Philippines, I watched American movies, wishing I had my own room, wishing I lived in the streets the American people lived in. In Morocco, he watched American movies and listened to American songs, not understanding the words but enjoying them nonetheless.
He discovered kung fu movies as a young boy, and that is when his love affair with anything Asian began. He kept as his prized possession, a pair of chopsticks and told everyone who would listen that he was going to marry a Chinese girl, preferably one that knew martial arts like the girls from the kung fu movies. He attened martial arts school, eventually earning a black belt in Wu-Shu Life was hard for him.
His parents were humble, a housewife and a teacher. And with three other children in the house, all he could dream about was going to Germany, or France, or the ultimate dream, America. In the meantime, my parents were in Canada, adjusting to the life they chose. My hubby won the lottery. Not the prize money, but the urlLink U.S. government lottery wherein they give 50,000 people around the world the chance to become a permanent resident in the United States. He could hardly believe his luck. His brother, an older, more studious individual, had not been able to win it. He discarded the student visa he had been given for Germany, and turned down an opportunity to remain illegal in France where he lived for a year while awaiting his papers.
America was the land in sight. He was given a choice between two states, New York and Texas. He could have chosen New York. He wanted to choose New York. That city which have been the setting of countless American movies. He chose Texas, where friends from back home were waiting. Meanwhile, a health crisis in Toronto, Ontario had forced the nursing unions that my parents belonged to to go on strike.
My parents had to go begging their banks for extensions on car and mortgage payments and after a long struggle, they made the choice to answer the call for nurses in Texas. An almost spontaneous decision that brought me and my future husband closer together. He and I arrived within months of each other. And still we may never have met.He was bumming around. Working, earning money, going through girls, enjoying his freedom and own hard-earned money.
In the meantime, I had been pushed towards a career in medicine and attended Baylor University for a Pre-Dental/Pre-Nursing degree. I ended up not liking my chosen degree. I wanted to dabble in computers. I left and attended DeVry University after a year, a school which focused on many technical degrees and was also foreign student friendly. At the same time. he eventually grew tired of his empty relationships, cut off ties with the Moroccans he declared as being backstabbers and went to school. The year that I attended the same school, he switched degrees and we ended up in the same classroom.
It didn't take long for us to notice each other and almost immediately, I knew that being with this man would give me a harmonious life. No one thought it would work. We had cultural, religion differences. It was always an issue with my parents. Funny it was never an issue for us. We are not alike, but instead complemented each other smoothly. He has the patience that I have long ago listed as a must in the man I would marry. His is a well of patience that will see us through my hard headedness. I have the consequential, decisive nature that will see us through his deliberate, thoughtful periods.
Last summer, we flew to Morocco, where his mother showed me his prized possession, his chopsticks, and told me stories about him as a boy. They showed me a pic of his face superimposed on a Bruce Lee photo. We walked through his old martial arts school, still training young Bruce Lee wannabes. Next summer, we hope to go to Philippines, where we can walk through the streets of Candelaria, where I played. Meet my extended family and be told stories about me when I was a little girl. In the twists and turns of our lives, during those pivotal moments, something pushed us the right way. And I thank God for it. Happy four years together! 
