(11/10/05 4:45PM)
On a usual workday that early morning I walked the pavement on my way to the agency office to file my sick leave for the previous day. I was feeling okay after the medical check-up that resulted to just a fever of some sort that was hibernating.
I was well on my way to the office when my attention was caught at a little kid rummaging through a pile of garbage. My steps slowed as my heart broke at the sight of him. He was about 10 years old or so. He was wearing an old pair of denim shorts and shirt that were both greased from being overly worn-out. I wanted to cry there and then. He was trying on a broken necklace that was made of shells when I was about to walk across to the agency office.
I couldn’t compose an interpretation in my mind as to why the kid was trying on the necklace. Why in the midst of his hunger and poverty should he still waste time on some darn useless necklace? Perhaps, it was for lack of anything else to do in the absence of finding food amongst the garbage or for mere interest. Certainly, what could be going on inside the mind of a hungry little beggar on the street that depend on what leftover could be found in the garbage bins? Heaven knows.
They are so forsaken and I couldn’t help but feel bad. My heart is reaching out to them. If only I could do something to completely take out begging from the streets and corners. Some people and groups, however, have carried out this noble action, only not in its entirety, or its real purpose. A pity. Oftentimes, these groups and people do it for the sheer purpose of benefiting something greater in return and not the sole purpose to help.
After getting out from the agency office, I passed by where the kid was, who at that time was already basically fully bent on the trashcan, digging deep for leftovers. It was really one of the most pitiful scenarios in my life.
But who am I? What can I do to minimize if not to add to the already huge number of beggars and less fortunate? I am just one person who is not yet past half a century old, who is still finding her place under the sun, struggling through the daily challenges of life. I am just one of the many Maria’s of this world who is feeling bad that the good life is not experienced by every human being. That poverty is part and parcel of the wheel of life.
Beggars come in different forms and gender. They are already a part of us whether we like it or not. We see them everywhere as we go along and move along in our lives. Some go around by themselves wearing shades or ragged clothes. Others are women carrying nude babies around a busy street and knocking on every possible mode of transport for prospective givers. Some are little girls and boys in torn shirts running about in corners to beg for alms. There are also the old ones who pass by offices or stores along with a toy guitar to do a carol months before Christmas, just to provide entertainment in place of the little help that they ask.
These realities prick so many realizations and lessons for a twenty-something lass like myself. As early as now, I begin to think that I should look well after my future and the family that I will think to build in the years to come. I should envision a life away from turning my children into these street kids that I see and pity now. Or become the old beggars that I feel sorry for.
I have learnt that if I opt to make a good life for myself, I will reap good life for the ones that will follow after me. That we are presented with the right choices amongst the wrong ones that only look all right, from which whatever I choose will, consequently, determine what comes out of it.
One night, on our way to the hair salon to get my hair trimmed, my sister and I chanced upon a little kid about the same age as the one I earlier related, selling rugs on the street at six pieces for five pesos. He had about four dozens in his hands and I asked my sister to pay for all.
My sister gave me that questioning look but paid the kid anyway. After which, the little boy hurried away. I just smiled and realized what she wanted to ask me. “Those rugs are of use to us. It’s already 7 o’clock in the evening.” I said happily.
This country’s undying struggle with poverty can only be solved if we look beyond our selfish motives. Until the time when we are able to go past our greed can we be saved. Until then there is the battle, the challenge to surpass our voracity and be truly content. So that we can move on to really reach out nobly with good intentions.
An injury is not healed until the scar is taken off completely. Birds cannot fly with just a wing. Life is like a game of chance. Life is about coming full circle. Life is what we make it.
Copyright ©2005 Theren Alexander
I was well on my way to the office when my attention was caught at a little kid rummaging through a pile of garbage. My steps slowed as my heart broke at the sight of him. He was about 10 years old or so. He was wearing an old pair of denim shorts and shirt that were both greased from being overly worn-out. I wanted to cry there and then. He was trying on a broken necklace that was made of shells when I was about to walk across to the agency office.
I couldn’t compose an interpretation in my mind as to why the kid was trying on the necklace. Why in the midst of his hunger and poverty should he still waste time on some darn useless necklace? Perhaps, it was for lack of anything else to do in the absence of finding food amongst the garbage or for mere interest. Certainly, what could be going on inside the mind of a hungry little beggar on the street that depend on what leftover could be found in the garbage bins? Heaven knows.
They are so forsaken and I couldn’t help but feel bad. My heart is reaching out to them. If only I could do something to completely take out begging from the streets and corners. Some people and groups, however, have carried out this noble action, only not in its entirety, or its real purpose. A pity. Oftentimes, these groups and people do it for the sheer purpose of benefiting something greater in return and not the sole purpose to help.
After getting out from the agency office, I passed by where the kid was, who at that time was already basically fully bent on the trashcan, digging deep for leftovers. It was really one of the most pitiful scenarios in my life.
But who am I? What can I do to minimize if not to add to the already huge number of beggars and less fortunate? I am just one person who is not yet past half a century old, who is still finding her place under the sun, struggling through the daily challenges of life. I am just one of the many Maria’s of this world who is feeling bad that the good life is not experienced by every human being. That poverty is part and parcel of the wheel of life.
Beggars come in different forms and gender. They are already a part of us whether we like it or not. We see them everywhere as we go along and move along in our lives. Some go around by themselves wearing shades or ragged clothes. Others are women carrying nude babies around a busy street and knocking on every possible mode of transport for prospective givers. Some are little girls and boys in torn shirts running about in corners to beg for alms. There are also the old ones who pass by offices or stores along with a toy guitar to do a carol months before Christmas, just to provide entertainment in place of the little help that they ask.
These realities prick so many realizations and lessons for a twenty-something lass like myself. As early as now, I begin to think that I should look well after my future and the family that I will think to build in the years to come. I should envision a life away from turning my children into these street kids that I see and pity now. Or become the old beggars that I feel sorry for.
I have learnt that if I opt to make a good life for myself, I will reap good life for the ones that will follow after me. That we are presented with the right choices amongst the wrong ones that only look all right, from which whatever I choose will, consequently, determine what comes out of it.
One night, on our way to the hair salon to get my hair trimmed, my sister and I chanced upon a little kid about the same age as the one I earlier related, selling rugs on the street at six pieces for five pesos. He had about four dozens in his hands and I asked my sister to pay for all.
My sister gave me that questioning look but paid the kid anyway. After which, the little boy hurried away. I just smiled and realized what she wanted to ask me. “Those rugs are of use to us. It’s already 7 o’clock in the evening.” I said happily.
This country’s undying struggle with poverty can only be solved if we look beyond our selfish motives. Until the time when we are able to go past our greed can we be saved. Until then there is the battle, the challenge to surpass our voracity and be truly content. So that we can move on to really reach out nobly with good intentions.
An injury is not healed until the scar is taken off completely. Birds cannot fly with just a wing. Life is like a game of chance. Life is about coming full circle. Life is what we make it.
Copyright ©2005 Theren Alexander
1 comment:
Poverty is such a struggle i agree...touching story, Theren.
Alice
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