hiding place

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 (cebu) hoping to
strengthened 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 am almost done eating with the
second banana when I noticed two
children across the street busily
searching the garbage
area. “Basureros” I said to myself 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 even more.

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 kunin mo kasi
tumitingin sa mga kumain, nakakahiya”,
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 “kawawa naman yung
mga batang yun mababait pa naman “. 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 po, salamat na lang, bibili
na lang po kami mamaya kung makabenta
na kami,” the young girl said to me.

I explained that they need to go home
because it started to rain. “Nasanay
na po kami “, 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 accept the
bread but I noticed that the older boy
did not eat.

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, “Linggo po
kasi ngayon,pag sabado at linggo hapon
lang po sya kumakain, kami lang po ang
kumakain ng agahan pero di na po kami
kakain pagdating ng hapon si kuya lang
po.
Pero pag lunes hanggang biyernes, kasi
may pasok, si kuya lang po nag-
aagahan, kami hapunan lang pero kung
marami kaming benta, kami pong lahat
(kumakain) she continued. “bakit kung
kumain kayong lahat, hati-hatiin nyo
na lang kahit kunti lang ang pagkain?
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. ” Pag nagkatrabaho
si kuya, hihinto kami sa pamamasura,
first honor kasi sya”, 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
goodbye 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, “suntukin kita pag hindi mo
tinanggap yan”. She smiled as she
extended her hand to take the
money. “Salamat po, makakabili na
kami ng gamot 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.