My dad passed away at a young age; I was very, very young too.  Memories of events in my life while Dad was still with us are vague but I recall asking him about my name and the story behind my given name.  After having had three sons, my Father was praying for a daughter and when I entered the world, my mum said, he was full of joy and delight.  He praised God and special thanks to St Anthony, to whom he had a very strong devotion until his last days on earth.

             He made it known to us that the very next day after my birth, it was the Feast of St Teresa and my father was inspired by the life of this Saint.  He took a liking to the name and thought it was the ideal name for his daughter, hoping may be, I would draw some lessons from this Saint.  I did not know much about this saint and did not probe any further. As I grew up in a strict Catholic upbringing, everything was directed, instructed, so having no choice, just followed obediently.

            Time was not still but passed swiftly. Now in my latter years, lived-out experiences had taken their trial and toil, no more race against time for secular ways, I begin to gather my thoughts looking back from conception and thinking about the short ten years I had with dad before he passed on. From a family of nine, I was his treasure and he took me on his journeys.

            I go to Church, though I must confess not regularly, and spiritual life was lukewarm.  Picked up some years later on my spiritual growth, then went downstream again.  Too much tragedy, hardship with separation after long years of marriage, with little hope, just darkness.  However, some years later watching my only sister, growing closer to divine strength, gave me a restart on my journey to seeking eternal joy and peace.  I began by taking an interest in St Teresa of Jesus and read her life experiences.  Her contemplative prayer life, her struggles, with her own mediocrity, illness and persistent reforms to her order is something to marvel about. Wow,             I thought, I am no where in comparison.  I thought this is like going through a winepress and ultimately being crushed into breathing new life.  However, the good news is I have had some success, been measured and now am bearing fruits.  I dare not raise my eyes to St Teresa of Avila but I have come a long way with the marks of my endurance.