But my knowledge of this event and its impact on my country comes more from history books, news clippings and accounts of relatives and teachers than from my experiences as a 6-year-old trying to comprehend the thick atmosphere of emotions surrounding times of such great change. The confusion and despair created by the Marcos dictatorship had turned to passion and zeal that was inspired by the courage of a homemaker in a yellow dress who rocked the boat, then capsized it.

Cory Aquino still remains one of the most significant figures of the movement, a revolutionary icon and now a leader of respect and dignity amid the chaos of Philippine society. The People Power Revolution saw more than a million Filipinos from all walks of life form human barricades along the EDSA highway, stopping tanks with nothing but rosaries, flowers and pleas for peace, change and justice.

It was a revolution that fought guns with compassion and resulted in only one casualty. It proved that social upheaval and the quest for a nation's well-being need not be fought with artillery but with firm resolve, galvanized not by rage but by peace and brotherhood.

Why was it that a homemaker with no political experience was suddenly tasked with taking the weight of leadership, change and social reform on her shoulders? Surely, a brilliant senator could have been persuaded to spearhead the opposition, or a bold general with the courage and charisma to gather enough strength and backing to challenge the dictatorship.

But what some don't realize is that one of the dismal impacts of the Marcos regime was in creating a dearth of leadership and leaders. There were no brilliant senators, no courageous generals, no charismatic figureheads who could both topple the domineering Marcos and then begin the rehabilitation of the country. They had been incarcerated, neutralized, killed, exiled or ultimately sapped of the energy to lead the nation out of this dark era.

Moreover, in the confusion that accompanied those times, people didn't value political savvy and intellectual cunning as much as trustworthiness. In the despair of martial law and dictatorship, people looked for someone they could trust. Someone like a recently widowed housewife with no political experience, motivated by a sense of duty to continue the work of her assassinated husband, Sen. Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino Jr., and by the growing clamor for real change.

It's easy to find holes in Cory Aquino's presidential track record, but such is the case for many presidents tasked with rehabilitating a country still bearing the scars of oppression and betrayal. Some economic policies failed, and bureaucratic corruption and cronyism did not end with the toppling of Ferdinand Marcos. A string of coups d'etat tried to wrest power from the president.

Yet in the face of all this, Cory Aquino persevered and provided a much-needed anchor of hope and inspiration to a generation only regaining its political and moral eyesight. The beauty of her leadership was based mainly on trust. Her leadership symbolized how much a person, regardless of limitations, could accomplish if one simply chose to stand up, and, with even the smallest of voices, speak out, to not fear the weight of responsibility. In a country like the Philippines — nay, in a world such as this, when such a shortage of true leaders committed to change seems to prevail, sometimes all that we, of such limited abilities and means, need to do is simply have the courage to speak up, to take that weight of duty and responsibility on our shoulders and to trudge forward into the abyss that we have created over 7,000 years of known human civilization.

One of the torches that will guide our way will always be a homemaker in a yellow dress who simply chose to take the first step and say "Enough."