"We see the fruits, but...

...we don't see the seed that died and fell on the ground."

That was the refrain in priest's homily today. He talked about how superficial we look at events. In the Philippines, March is the month of graduation for most schools. He talked about the graduation he attended. He mused over some his impressions that most of the time, we see the flowers being handed to the newly graduates, the medals, the diplomas, the togas, their nice formal dresses, but we don't see behind them... we don't know what's behind in each of those graduates.

Behind each graduate, their teachers are there: They run after them for their requirements, cry over their stubbornness, smile at their successes, work hard to find ways to make them learn calculus more easily and perhaps develop an interest in it.

Behind some graduates, their parents sacrifice comfortable living to give them good education, sick parents who force themselves to attend their son's graduation, a mother who works in another country simply watching her son give his valedictory address via the webcam, mother and father who only got together because their daughter graduated.

Behind a graduate, he had to beg their principal to revoke his punishment not to march on stage because he didn't want to make his parents feel even worse being a constant troublemaker that he is.

Behind every fruit, is a seed that had died in order to grow into a beautiful fruit-bearing tree. Many sacrifices have been delivered before we can appreciate the fruit: as sweet and colorful as they can be.

To appreciate effort takes effort.