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AND
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This wonderful story was shared to us in an email by Dr. Toby Dayrit. It was also sent to him perhaps by a Cebuano. We’d like to believe that the story is true. I pray that someone can find these three children and help alleviate the difficulty of their young lives…And if you are starting to get stressed out by the season or prone to shopping in excess, this one is for you…

Ever since I was diagnosed with having a possible heart enlargement, I have
followed a strict regimen of physical exercises. I jog during week days and
take a long ride biking to the mountains every Sunday.

But this Sunday turned out to be a special Sunday for me. While I was on my
way to the mountains of Busay ( Cebu ) hoping to strengthen my heart by this
exercise, I personally encountered a heart-breaking scene that changed me.

I had already passed by 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 wanted some
fruits to have the needed energy to get to my destination - the mountain
top.

I was almost done eating with a second banana when I noticed two children
across the street busily searching the garbage area. “*Basureros* ” I said to
myself and quickly turned my attention away from them to sip a small amount
of water. I couldn’t care less for these children, to make it straight, I do
not like them and I do not trust them at all.

You see, several times I had been a victim to these children who are
pretending to be *basureros *looking for empty bottles and cans when in fact
the ‘palangganas’ , kalderos’, and ‘hinayhays’ are their favorites.

I remember one afternoon while I was watching a TV program when the screen
suddenly became blurred. I checked outside and saw two young
*basureros*running away with my newly installed antenna!

Hatred may be too strong a word to describe my feeling towards these *
basureros*, but I honestly just do not like them. Until 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 years of age, saying aloud to the other, a boy of
about 12 years, “*Kuya si Dodong kunin mo kasi tumitingin sa mga kumain,
nakakahiya*. ” Only then did I notice a small boy standing near me biting
slightly his fingers. He’s a few inches shorter compared to my own 5-year
old son (I came to know later that he’s also 5 years old).

Though he did not ask for food from anyone in the carenderia, the way he was
looking at the customers who were eating was enough to convince me that he
was intensely craving for food. 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 yang mga batang yan mababait pa naman*.” I
learned further from the carenderia owner that the children were from a good
family. Both parents were working before and that their father had a stroke
3 years ago and became partially paralyzed while their mother died of heart
attack as 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 the cost of
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 needed to go home because it was starting to rain. “*Nasanay na po kami
*,” the girl answered further.

Again, I explained that the rain could make them sick and if they get sick
there’ll be no one to take care of their father. Upon mention of their
father, they nodded and accepted 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 and as he was about to explain, the little girl, who is the more
talkative of them, interrupted “*Linggo po kasi ngayon, pag sabado at linggo
hapon lang po siya 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 ang nag-aagahan, kami naman
hapunan lang. Pero kung marami kaming benta, kami pong lahat* (kumakain),”
she continued. “*Bakit hindi nyo na lang hati-hatiin ang pagkain kahit
kakaunti para makakain kayong lahat?”* I countered.

The young girl reasoned out that their father wanted her older brother to
come to school with a full stomach so he can easily catch up on the
teacher’s lessons. “*Pag nagkatrabaho na si kuya, hihinto na kami sa
pamamasura, first honor kasi siya*,” the little boy added proudly.

Maybe I was caught by surprise or I was just overly emotional that my tears
begun 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 my bike.

Finally, I get on to my bike and approached the three children to bid them
goodbye and they 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. Although I believe that their positive look at life could
someday change their present situation, there is one thing that they could
never change anymore, that is, their being motherless. That little boy can
no longer taste the sweet embrace, caring, and most of all, the love of his
mother forever. Nobody can fill the empty gap created by that sudden and
untimely death of their mother. Every big event that will happen to their
lives will only remind them of their loss and make them wish for their
mother’s presence.

I reached into my pocket and handed to them my last 100 peso bill which I
was reserving 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 hand and said bye
bye to him as I drove towards the mountains again. Did he just find the toy
in the garbage area or was the toy originally his — before the misfortune
struck? I did not bother to ask. But one thing is crystal clear to me, that
in spite of the boy’s abnormal life, he has not given up his childhood
completely. I can sense it by the way he held and stared at his toy.

My meeting with those young *basureros* made me poorer by 100 pesos but it
changed me and made me richer in lessons of life.

In them, I learned that life can change suddenly and just anyone may be
caught completely unprepared.

In them, I’ve learned that even the darkest side of life, cannot change the
beauty of one’s heart. Those three children, who can infrequently partake of
three meals a day, were still able to hold on to what they believe was
right. What a contrast to many of us who are quick to point to our
misfortunes to justify acts of impropriety.

In them, I’ve learned to hope for deliverance even when things seem to go
the other way.

Lastly, I know that God cares for them. That while He may have allowed them
to suffer such a terrible life, which our finite minds cannot comprehend,
His boundless love will surely see them through. And in God’s own time I
know they will prevail. GOD BLESS!!!

Photo above by Hermut Schwarzbach, Thrd Prizw Winner UNICEF Photo of the Year