The Letter:
Ever since it was diagnosed that I am
having a posible heart
enlargement in the last APE, I have
exerted more effort to do physical
exercises. I do jogging during week
days and do long - ride mountain
biking every Sunday.
But this Sunday is a special Sunday to
me. While I was on my way to the
mountains of Busay hoping to
strengtened my heart by this exercise,
instead, I personally encountered a
heart-breaking scene that changed
me.
I already passed the Marco Polo Plaza
( formerly Cebu Plaza Hotel )
when I decided to stop to buy bananas
at a small carenderia located
along the road. I haven't taken any
solid food that morning so I need
fruits to have the needed energy to
get to my destination - the
mountain top. I almost done eating
with the second banana when I
noticed two children across the street
busily searching the garbage
area. "Basureros" I said to myselt and
quickly turn my attention away
from them to sip a small amount of
water. I cared less for these kind of
children actually; to make it
straight, I do not like them, and I do
not
trust them evenmore. You see, several
times I have been a victim to
these kind of children who are
pretending to be basureros looking for
empty bottles and cans when in fact
the 'plangganas', 'kalderos', and
'hinayhays' are their favorites. I
remember one afternoon while I was
watching a Mike Tyson fight when I
noticed that the TV screen suddenly
became blurred. I checked outside and
saw two young basureros running
away with my newly installed antenna.
Hatred may be a little bit stronger
word to describe my feeling towards
these basureros, but I do not like
them honestly ? not till I met these
three children.
I was about to embark on my bike again
when I heard one of the two
children, a girl of about 7 or 8 of
age saying aloud to the other , a
12-yr old boy , " kuya si dodong kuha-
a kay nag-sige'g tan-aw sa mga
nagkaon, mauwaw ta" , only then that I
noticed a small boy standing
near to me biting slightly his finger.
He's a few inches shorter if
compared to my 5 years old son ( but I
knew later that he's also 5 yrs.
Old). Though he did not asked for food
to anyone in the carenderia, the
way he looked at the customers who
were eating , enough to convinced me
that he intensely craving for it. The
older boy then quickly crossed the
street and gently pulled out the
little one who politely obeyed. As I
watched the two crossing back the
street to the garbage area, I heard
the tindera saying " Lo-oy kaayo nang
mga bataa uy, mga buotan ra ba
na". I learned further from the
carenderia owner that the children are
from a good family , both parents were
working before , and that their
father got a stroke 3 years ago and
became partially paralized and
their mother died of heart attack
while their father was still confined
at the hospital. The parents were
still in their early forties when the
catastrophe happened , and the
children became basureros since then to
meet their daily needs and for their
father's medication.
Deeply moved by what I heard, I went
to a nearby bakery and bought 20
pesos worth of bread and gave it to
the children who initially refused
including the little boy. " Sige lang
noy, salamat na lang, magpalit
lang nya mi kung mahalinan na mi" the
young girl said to me. I explained
that they need to go home because it
started to rain . " Naanad na man
mi ani " the girl answered again.
Again, I explained that the rain can
make them sick and if they'll become
sick there's no one to take care of
their father. Upon mentioning their
father, they nodded and acccept the
bread but I noticed that the older boy
did not ate. When I asked him if
he does not like the kind of bread I
bought for them he smiled but as
he's about to explain, the little
girl, who is the more talker of them
interrupted, " Domingo man gud
ron ,noy, basta Sabado ug Domingo hapon
ra siya mokaon kami ra ang mokaon ug
pamahaw pero dili na pod mi mokaon
inig hapon, si kuya ra. Pero basta
Lunes ngadto sa Biyernes, kay klase
man , si kuya ra sad ang seguro-on ug
papamahaw, kami hapon na sad mi
moka-on " Pero kung
daghan mi ug halin mokaon mi tanan."
she continued. "Ngano man diay
ug
mokaon mong tanan, bahinon ninyo bisan
ug unsa ka gamay?" I countered.
The young girl reasoned out that their
father wanted that her older
brother to come to school with full
stomachs so he can easily catch up
the teacher's lessons. "Inig ka
trabaho ni kuya mo undang na man mi ug
pamasura , first honor baya na siya "
the little boy added proudly.
Maybe I was caught by surprise or I am
just overly emotional that my
tears started to fall. I then quickly
turned my back from them to hide
my tears and pretended to pick up my
bike from the carenderia where I
left it.
I don't know how many seconds or
minutes I spent just to compose myself;
pretending again this time that I was
mending by bike.
Finally I get on to my bike and
approached the three children to bid
goobye to them who in turn cast their
grateful smiles at me. I then
took a good look at all of them
specially to the small boy and pat his
head with a pinch in my heart. Though
I believe that their positive look
at life can easily change their
present situation, there is one thing
that they can never change; that is ,
their being motherless. That
little boy can no longer taste the
sweet embrace, care, and most of all
, the love of his mother ? forever.
Nobody can refill the empty gap
created by that sudden and untimely
death of their mother. Every big
events that will happen to their lives
will only remind them and make
them wish of their mother's presence.
I reached to my pocket and handed to
them my last 100 peso bill which I
reserved for our department's bowling
tournament. This time they refused
strongly but I jokingly said to the
girl " sumbagon teka ron kung di
nimo dawaton" . She smiled as she
extended her hand to take the money. "
Salamat
noy makapalit gyud me ron ug tambal ni
papa " she uttered. I then
turned
to the small boy and though he's a few
feet away from me, I still
noticed that while his right hand was
holding the half - filled sack ,
his left hand was holding a toy ? a
worn out toy car. I waved my hands
and said bye bye to him as I drove
towards the mountains again. Did he
just found the toy in the garbage
area ? or the toy was originally his
- when the misfortune did not took
place yet? - I did not bother to ask.
But one thing is crystal clear to me ?
that inspite of the boy's
abnormal life, he did not given up his
childhood completely. I can sense
it that way he hold and stare at his
toy.
My meeting with that young basureros
made me poorer by 100 pesos. But
they changed me and made me more
richer as to lessons of life are
concerned. In them, I learned that
life can changed suddenly and may
caught me flat footed. In them, I've
learned that even the darkest side
of life, cannot change the beauty of
one's heart. Those three children,
who sometimes cannot eat three times a
day, still able to hold on to
what they believe was right. And what
a contrast to most of us who are
quick to point out to our misfortunes
when caught with our mistakes. In
them, I've learned to hope for things
when things seem to go the other
way.
Lastly, I know that God cares for them
far more than I do. That though
He allowed them to experience such a
terrible life which our finite
minds cannot comprehend, His
unquestionable love will surely follow
them
through.
Ever since it was diagnosed that I am
having a posible heart
enlargement in the last APE, I have
exerted more effort to do physical
exercises. I do jogging during week
days and do long - ride mountain
biking every Sunday.
But this Sunday is a special Sunday to
me. While I was on my way to the
mountains of Busay hoping to
strengtened my heart by this exercise,
instead, I personally encountered a
heart-breaking scene that changed
me.
I already passed the Marco Polo Plaza
( formerly Cebu Plaza Hotel )
when I decided to stop to buy bananas
at a small carenderia located
along the road. I haven't taken any
solid food that morning so I need
fruits to have the needed energy to
get to my destination - the
mountain top. I almost done eating
with the second banana when I
noticed two children across the street
busily searching the garbage
area. "Basureros" I said to myselt and
quickly turn my attention away
from them to sip a small amount of
water. I cared less for these kind of
children actually; to make it
straight, I do not like them, and I do
not
trust them evenmore. You see, several
times I have been a victim to
these kind of children who are
pretending to be basureros looking for
empty bottles and cans when in fact
the 'plangganas', 'kalderos', and
'hinayhays' are their favorites. I
remember one afternoon while I was
watching a Mike Tyson fight when I
noticed that the TV screen suddenly
became blurred. I checked outside and
saw two young basureros running
away with my newly installed antenna.
Hatred may be a little bit stronger
word to describe my feeling towards
these basureros, but I do not like
them honestly ? not till I met these
three children.
I was about to embark on my bike again
when I heard one of the two
children, a girl of about 7 or 8 of
age saying aloud to the other , a
12-yr old boy , " kuya si dodong kuha-
a kay nag-sige'g tan-aw sa mga
nagkaon, mauwaw ta" , only then that I
noticed a small boy standing
near to me biting slightly his finger.
He's a few inches shorter if
compared to my 5 years old son ( but I
knew later that he's also 5 yrs.
Old). Though he did not asked for food
to anyone in the carenderia, the
way he looked at the customers who
were eating , enough to convinced me
that he intensely craving for it. The
older boy then quickly crossed the
street and gently pulled out the
little one who politely obeyed. As I
watched the two crossing back the
street to the garbage area, I heard
the tindera saying " Lo-oy kaayo nang
mga bataa uy, mga buotan ra ba
na". I learned further from the
carenderia owner that the children are
from a good family , both parents were
working before , and that their
father got a stroke 3 years ago and
became partially paralized and
their mother died of heart attack
while their father was still confined
at the hospital. The parents were
still in their early forties when the
catastrophe happened , and the
children became basureros since then to
meet their daily needs and for their
father's medication.
Deeply moved by what I heard, I went
to a nearby bakery and bought 20
pesos worth of bread and gave it to
the children who initially refused
including the little boy. " Sige lang
noy, salamat na lang, magpalit
lang nya mi kung mahalinan na mi" the
young girl said to me. I explained
that they need to go home because it
started to rain . " Naanad na man
mi ani " the girl answered again.
Again, I explained that the rain can
make them sick and if they'll become
sick there's no one to take care of
their father. Upon mentioning their
father, they nodded and acccept the
bread but I noticed that the older boy
did not ate. When I asked him if
he does not like the kind of bread I
bought for them he smiled but as
he's about to explain, the little
girl, who is the more talker of them
interrupted, " Domingo man gud
ron ,noy, basta Sabado ug Domingo hapon
ra siya mokaon kami ra ang mokaon ug
pamahaw pero dili na pod mi mokaon
inig hapon, si kuya ra. Pero basta
Lunes ngadto sa Biyernes, kay klase
man , si kuya ra sad ang seguro-on ug
papamahaw, kami hapon na sad mi
moka-on " Pero kung
daghan mi ug halin mokaon mi tanan."
she continued. "Ngano man diay
ug
mokaon mong tanan, bahinon ninyo bisan
ug unsa ka gamay?" I countered.
The young girl reasoned out that their
father wanted that her older
brother to come to school with full
stomachs so he can easily catch up
the teacher's lessons. "Inig ka
trabaho ni kuya mo undang na man mi ug
pamasura , first honor baya na siya "
the little boy added proudly.
Maybe I was caught by surprise or I am
just overly emotional that my
tears started to fall. I then quickly
turned my back from them to hide
my tears and pretended to pick up my
bike from the carenderia where I
left it.
I don't know how many seconds or
minutes I spent just to compose myself;
pretending again this time that I was
mending by bike.
Finally I get on to my bike and
approached the three children to bid
goobye to them who in turn cast their
grateful smiles at me. I then
took a good look at all of them
specially to the small boy and pat his
head with a pinch in my heart. Though
I believe that their positive look
at life can easily change their
present situation, there is one thing
that they can never change; that is ,
their being motherless. That
little boy can no longer taste the
sweet embrace, care, and most of all
, the love of his mother ? forever.
Nobody can refill the empty gap
created by that sudden and untimely
death of their mother. Every big
events that will happen to their lives
will only remind them and make
them wish of their mother's presence.
I reached to my pocket and handed to
them my last 100 peso bill which I
reserved for our department's bowling
tournament. This time they refused
strongly but I jokingly said to the
girl " sumbagon teka ron kung di
nimo dawaton" . She smiled as she
extended her hand to take the money. "
Salamat
noy makapalit gyud me ron ug tambal ni
papa " she uttered. I then
turned
to the small boy and though he's a few
feet away from me, I still
noticed that while his right hand was
holding the half - filled sack ,
his left hand was holding a toy ? a
worn out toy car. I waved my hands
and said bye bye to him as I drove
towards the mountains again. Did he
just found the toy in the garbage
area ? or the toy was originally his
- when the misfortune did not took
place yet? - I did not bother to ask.
But one thing is crystal clear to me ?
that inspite of the boy's
abnormal life, he did not given up his
childhood completely. I can sense
it that way he hold and stare at his
toy.
My meeting with that young basureros
made me poorer by 100 pesos. But
they changed me and made me more
richer as to lessons of life are
concerned. In them, I learned that
life can changed suddenly and may
caught me flat footed. In them, I've
learned that even the darkest side
of life, cannot change the beauty of
one's heart. Those three children,
who sometimes cannot eat three times a
day, still able to hold on to
what they believe was right. And what
a contrast to most of us who are
quick to point out to our misfortunes
when caught with our mistakes. In
them, I've learned to hope for things
when things seem to go the other
way.
Lastly, I know that God cares for them
far more than I do. That though
He allowed them to experience such a
terrible life which our finite
minds cannot comprehend, His
unquestionable love will surely follow
them
through.
And in God's own time they will win.
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