OF TREES AND FOREST
(Second of two parts)
One of my staff asked me recently: “Sir, what was your Christmas like when you were growing up 25 in Tondo?” I do not know why but my memory immediately took me back to Mary Johnston. Mary Johnston Hospital (MJH), run by the United Methodist Church, is a health care provider that has been in existence since 1906. In its 118 year history, MJH has been tending to the health needs of the people of Tondo. But it is not their glorious history nor their commendable public service that came to mind, it was one of the Christmas parties they organized on behalf of a benefactor for the underprivileged kids of Tondo that I remember the most.
I do not recall being part of the group of children given tickets to the Mary Johnston gatherings. For understandable reasons (primarily the budget given by the benefactor who wanted to do this good deed), the hospital cannot possibly accommodate all the children so they had to limit the number of kids coming in. Together with the other kids in our neighborhood who did not have tickets, I would stand by at the other end of the fence and watch the children playing, opening gifts and eating a lot of food. I remember thinking, “ang suwerte naman nila.” The kids inside came from poor families too but to my innocent mind they were privileged to have been on the other side of that steel fence.
That was not actually a sad memory of my childhood. I remember after watching those kids inside the hospital, we would go back to our neighborhood and play. In particular, I remember we would just run around the street near our house and play with these empty cans of Rose Bowl sardines tied to a string. We run while pulling these cans on a string that made so much noise the older people around us would shout at us to stop or go somewhere else. Those were happy times.
When I was a young Tondo boy, I had no idea about being poor. That was not something that we worried about as kids. What I remembered was that at 9 years of age I was already helping my mother sell fish and shrimps in Divisoria. At that time I was not thinking I had to work because we were poor. I actually enjoyed leaving the house at 11 p.m., going to Divisoria early so Nanay Curing can purchase our paninda for the day, and helping her set up our stall.
This was my routine as a kid. But this would change every Christmas and New Year. My mother insisted on all of us being together for Noche Buena and Media Noche. We would have cheese, bread, biko, suman, and sometimes some trimmings of ham which I loved. So instead of leaving for the market at 11 p.m., my mother and I would wait until after Noche Buena, usually around 1 or 1:30 in the morning before walking to the market. On New Year’s Eve, we would leave a little later as we wait for the smoke from all the firecrackers to dissipate. My mother never stopped working even on Christmas and New Year because as she said, “Madami mamimili ngayon, sayang kikitain natin.” That is where my addiction to work, work, work came from.
At any rate, that is a tradition I continued with my family. We always gathered during Christmas and New Year’s. During the time when my children did not have a family of their own yet, we would always spend the holidays in the US. We have actually attended Simbang Gabi in the US and it was a happy but surreal experience because it was like being home as only Filipinos were inside the church. I imagine that is true in other areas where there is a significant Filipino population. When you are away from home, far from your family, you hold on to traditions and habits that make you remember home. Memories are a powerful connection we share with those we love.
So before I become overly nostalgic, I would like to greet all my readers and all the Filipinos here and abroad a “Very Merry Christmas!” For all the imperfections of life, it is our loved ones, those who inspire us and whom we love with all our heart, that make life better and that makes it all worthwhile. Maligayang Pasko! ([email protected] and/or http://www.mannyvillar.com)