It's been awhile since my last entry. Since then, there were so many stories and topics that excited me, but was too busy (or tired) to write at the very moment the inspiration hit. "I'll write it tomorrow", I said; but, by then, it didn't seem good enough or the excitement fizzled out.
So here are some stories, that highlighted the Christmas spirit for me, to exercise my writing muscles.
***
This Christmas holiday, I decided to grab the opportunity for a 2-week break. I had no special plans. Just some down time and breather from work to catch up on chores and, hopefully, get some reading in. First few days were wonderfully spent on catching up on sleep. Yes, I now get those little reminders from my body that I am old, and it was a good time to finally heed them.
The days that followed were spent helping out on some last-minute Christmas preparations for my mom. Once, she asked me to accompany her to Mercury Drug Store, hurriedly picking up a wrapped gift from her pile of gifts for giveaway. (She has this system that helps her know what the gifts are even though they are unlabeled. Still amazes me).
"Are we stopping by somewhere else?" I asked.
"No. I hope the nice pharmacist is on duty."
The store had a line for regular customers and a special line for seniors and persons with disability. There was an old guy with a walker ahead of us in the line. He sat on the chair with his backpack, sorting out the prescriptions and figuring out what to buy. I remembered thinking, how sad it was that this old man, who could hardly walk, has no one to buy his medicines for him. Just then my mom said, "Oh, good. She's here."
I looked up to see a simple lady with a bright smile. She patiently attended to the old man, helping him figure out the medicines he needed to replenish, and rejoicing with him when the total fit into his budget. She took the medicines to the cashier so she could ring them up, and returned all excited, "Happy birthday po 'tay. Akala mo ha!" (Happy birthday, gramps. You thought you could get away with it, didn't you!). The rest of the folks in the store - customers and staff alike - greeted the old man. He choked up a little and kept thanking everyone while he walked out of the store. I felt both happy and sad for the old man and wondered how many more are in the same situation.
The lady was already helping my mom, by the time I recovered from what happened. I understood why my mom liked her so much. She is happy with her work and genuinely cares about her customers, especially the older ones. I wondered if she volunteered or management simply noticed her big heart, thus assigned her to the seniors/PWD counter. Either way, I'm glad. And I'm happy Mama brought her a gift, which surprised her immensely. All I could manage was, "Thank you for all that you're doing."
I wish I could have said more. Perhaps I'll drop in later this week.
***
Filipinos (with the exception of myself) are known for their singing prowess. And Christmas is the time when this is most showcased with chorale groups going around homes, offices and churches singing Christmas carols.
This year we got to see several amazing ones, mostly coming from provinces. These are choirs from parishes whose offertory earnings are insufficient to cover for the church's expenses; much less, fund for programs for their parishioners.
It started with a group of seminarians serenading at our house even before the 9-day novena masses started. I was at work, but my mom took a video and I was floored at how great they were. God obviously knows how to choose the cream of the crop!
In one Misa De Gallo Mass a group came from a remote province in Bicol, Pili. They were a group of students putting themselves through college by singing. They were dressed in traditional Filipino attire at 5 am in the morning, singing and dancing their hearts out, and appealing to the church goers for whatever help they can provide. They will be in Manila for 6 days, going around parishes.
In another Misa De Gallo Mass, we were treated to a bunch of jolly Rogate seminarians, singing to get support for their outreach and also their studies. We are in dire shortage of priests. How can we export missionary priests, when we don't even have enough to minister to all our remote islands? I was happy to see such a rich harvest and prayed that all will find the grace to carry through to ordination.
Then my mom asked us to join them for their workers' and staff's yearend Mass. It wasn't even their Christmas party yet. Then I saw some of my parents' friends in attendance and wondered why they were there. When the Mass began and the choir sang, I knew why this impromptu Mass was organized. The choir came from another parish in Bicol that earned only 1400 pesos and a few harvest/livestock offerings each week. They travelled ~12 hours just to sing for us.
These choirs not only showcase amazing talent, but also how amazing the human spirit is, rising above life's challenges. More than anything, they show the value of belonging to a good community, pulling together to achieve their goals and pushing each other to keep moving forward amidst the difficulties. And I am happy to see all of the generous souls, reaching out to support in whatever way they can to raise these communities and individuals up.
***
Last Friday, my son came up to me and asked me to wake him up early the following day. He was going to Mass with Lolo (Papa goes to Mass at the Miraculous Medal Shrine every Saturday) and was hoping I could join them, because Lola might not be able to join. I was surprised because I normally just go on the first Saturdays and he would grumble everytime I asked him to join.
"I want to confess, Mom", he said, before I could even ask.
(A couple of days before the Misa De Gallo Masses ended, I had a conversation with him, explaining the implications of a misdemeanor I just recently uncovered. He stopped receiving Holy Communion then and was anxious to be able to receive it again).
After Mass, we went to one of our favorite restaurants where there is a deaf-mute parking attendant that we've known for years. When I ordered breakfast for him and they called him, he glanced my way and thanked me.
There was a lady at one of the outside tables, selling blankets from Ilocos (The staff in the restaurant tolerated her little setup). Our friend gestured at her to share the meal with him. She politely declined. I told Anton and Papa about it. "Wow!", was all Papa could manage, smiling.
Then he told us about Mang Tino. He was an old man peddling newspapers at the parking lot of another establishment, when we were still kids. I remember how Papa had a soft spot for him. Last Saturday, he told us the full story.
He noticed Mang Tino eating the leftovers from the tables at a restaurant. He approached the old man and offered to buy him breakfast. Mang Tino shyly declined, saying "Ok na ako, brod" (I'm already good, brod). Papa insisted, bought him burger for snacks later and advanced for the old man's lunch as well. Mang Tino was crying, "Sobra sobra na ito, brod" (This is too much, brod). For years, Papa would buy newspaper from the old man and treat him to meals every now and then.
Then I just stopped seeing the old man. Papa mentioned he got sick and couldn't sell newspapers anymore. What I didn't know, was he had talked to the parish priest to take the old man in until he can find a facility for him. Then my parents made arrangements with DSWD (Department of Social Welfare and Development) to bring Mang Tino to a senior facility. The old man was hesitant, insisting he can still earn a living selling newspapers. Papa told him that he didn't have to and shouldn't do that anymore. On the day the DSWD came, my parents came to see Mang Tino off. He fumbled as he cried, thanking my parents for all that they had done, so Papa gave him his handkerchief.
"How would you feel if you saw your father eating scraps?", Papa said, ending his story. I realized Mang Tino's slight build, manner of walking and mild demeanor resembled our grandfather's.
I had always wanted to get involved in outreach programs for children, but have also been wondering if there are enough good facilities for seniors, too. This reminded me of a program in a European country, where a home for the aged was regularly visited by kids from a daycare or pre-school. The program gave the kids something to look forward to beyond gadgets, enjoying the wisdom and amazing stories of olden times; while the older folks enjoy the kids' vitality, wide-eyed curiosity and honest humor.
I had been wanting to replicate it in the Philippines. Perhaps this was a little nudge?
So here are some stories, that highlighted the Christmas spirit for me, to exercise my writing muscles.
***
This Christmas holiday, I decided to grab the opportunity for a 2-week break. I had no special plans. Just some down time and breather from work to catch up on chores and, hopefully, get some reading in. First few days were wonderfully spent on catching up on sleep. Yes, I now get those little reminders from my body that I am old, and it was a good time to finally heed them.
The days that followed were spent helping out on some last-minute Christmas preparations for my mom. Once, she asked me to accompany her to Mercury Drug Store, hurriedly picking up a wrapped gift from her pile of gifts for giveaway. (She has this system that helps her know what the gifts are even though they are unlabeled. Still amazes me).
"Are we stopping by somewhere else?" I asked.
"No. I hope the nice pharmacist is on duty."
The store had a line for regular customers and a special line for seniors and persons with disability. There was an old guy with a walker ahead of us in the line. He sat on the chair with his backpack, sorting out the prescriptions and figuring out what to buy. I remembered thinking, how sad it was that this old man, who could hardly walk, has no one to buy his medicines for him. Just then my mom said, "Oh, good. She's here."
I looked up to see a simple lady with a bright smile. She patiently attended to the old man, helping him figure out the medicines he needed to replenish, and rejoicing with him when the total fit into his budget. She took the medicines to the cashier so she could ring them up, and returned all excited, "Happy birthday po 'tay. Akala mo ha!" (Happy birthday, gramps. You thought you could get away with it, didn't you!). The rest of the folks in the store - customers and staff alike - greeted the old man. He choked up a little and kept thanking everyone while he walked out of the store. I felt both happy and sad for the old man and wondered how many more are in the same situation.
The lady was already helping my mom, by the time I recovered from what happened. I understood why my mom liked her so much. She is happy with her work and genuinely cares about her customers, especially the older ones. I wondered if she volunteered or management simply noticed her big heart, thus assigned her to the seniors/PWD counter. Either way, I'm glad. And I'm happy Mama brought her a gift, which surprised her immensely. All I could manage was, "Thank you for all that you're doing."
I wish I could have said more. Perhaps I'll drop in later this week.
***
Filipinos (with the exception of myself) are known for their singing prowess. And Christmas is the time when this is most showcased with chorale groups going around homes, offices and churches singing Christmas carols.
This year we got to see several amazing ones, mostly coming from provinces. These are choirs from parishes whose offertory earnings are insufficient to cover for the church's expenses; much less, fund for programs for their parishioners.
It started with a group of seminarians serenading at our house even before the 9-day novena masses started. I was at work, but my mom took a video and I was floored at how great they were. God obviously knows how to choose the cream of the crop!
In one Misa De Gallo Mass a group came from a remote province in Bicol, Pili. They were a group of students putting themselves through college by singing. They were dressed in traditional Filipino attire at 5 am in the morning, singing and dancing their hearts out, and appealing to the church goers for whatever help they can provide. They will be in Manila for 6 days, going around parishes.
In another Misa De Gallo Mass, we were treated to a bunch of jolly Rogate seminarians, singing to get support for their outreach and also their studies. We are in dire shortage of priests. How can we export missionary priests, when we don't even have enough to minister to all our remote islands? I was happy to see such a rich harvest and prayed that all will find the grace to carry through to ordination.
Then my mom asked us to join them for their workers' and staff's yearend Mass. It wasn't even their Christmas party yet. Then I saw some of my parents' friends in attendance and wondered why they were there. When the Mass began and the choir sang, I knew why this impromptu Mass was organized. The choir came from another parish in Bicol that earned only 1400 pesos and a few harvest/livestock offerings each week. They travelled ~12 hours just to sing for us.
These choirs not only showcase amazing talent, but also how amazing the human spirit is, rising above life's challenges. More than anything, they show the value of belonging to a good community, pulling together to achieve their goals and pushing each other to keep moving forward amidst the difficulties. And I am happy to see all of the generous souls, reaching out to support in whatever way they can to raise these communities and individuals up.
***
Last Friday, my son came up to me and asked me to wake him up early the following day. He was going to Mass with Lolo (Papa goes to Mass at the Miraculous Medal Shrine every Saturday) and was hoping I could join them, because Lola might not be able to join. I was surprised because I normally just go on the first Saturdays and he would grumble everytime I asked him to join.
"I want to confess, Mom", he said, before I could even ask.
(A couple of days before the Misa De Gallo Masses ended, I had a conversation with him, explaining the implications of a misdemeanor I just recently uncovered. He stopped receiving Holy Communion then and was anxious to be able to receive it again).
After Mass, we went to one of our favorite restaurants where there is a deaf-mute parking attendant that we've known for years. When I ordered breakfast for him and they called him, he glanced my way and thanked me.
There was a lady at one of the outside tables, selling blankets from Ilocos (The staff in the restaurant tolerated her little setup). Our friend gestured at her to share the meal with him. She politely declined. I told Anton and Papa about it. "Wow!", was all Papa could manage, smiling.
Then he told us about Mang Tino. He was an old man peddling newspapers at the parking lot of another establishment, when we were still kids. I remember how Papa had a soft spot for him. Last Saturday, he told us the full story.
He noticed Mang Tino eating the leftovers from the tables at a restaurant. He approached the old man and offered to buy him breakfast. Mang Tino shyly declined, saying "Ok na ako, brod" (I'm already good, brod). Papa insisted, bought him burger for snacks later and advanced for the old man's lunch as well. Mang Tino was crying, "Sobra sobra na ito, brod" (This is too much, brod). For years, Papa would buy newspaper from the old man and treat him to meals every now and then.
Then I just stopped seeing the old man. Papa mentioned he got sick and couldn't sell newspapers anymore. What I didn't know, was he had talked to the parish priest to take the old man in until he can find a facility for him. Then my parents made arrangements with DSWD (Department of Social Welfare and Development) to bring Mang Tino to a senior facility. The old man was hesitant, insisting he can still earn a living selling newspapers. Papa told him that he didn't have to and shouldn't do that anymore. On the day the DSWD came, my parents came to see Mang Tino off. He fumbled as he cried, thanking my parents for all that they had done, so Papa gave him his handkerchief.
"How would you feel if you saw your father eating scraps?", Papa said, ending his story. I realized Mang Tino's slight build, manner of walking and mild demeanor resembled our grandfather's.
I had always wanted to get involved in outreach programs for children, but have also been wondering if there are enough good facilities for seniors, too. This reminded me of a program in a European country, where a home for the aged was regularly visited by kids from a daycare or pre-school. The program gave the kids something to look forward to beyond gadgets, enjoying the wisdom and amazing stories of olden times; while the older folks enjoy the kids' vitality, wide-eyed curiosity and honest humor.
I had been wanting to replicate it in the Philippines. Perhaps this was a little nudge?
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