Before I actually tell you the
story that is relevant to the title, I feel the need to convey first the day I
met the person who introduced me to the young boy who asked me that stunning
question on faith. It started over a bowl of lomi (noodle soup) and halo-halo (fruit
cocktail on ice) at Chowking in Glorietta 1 on April 20, 2013. It was one scorching summer to note because
you can feel the heat even at night time. I was about to enjoy my noodle soup for
lunch when my attention was caught by a light tap on my left shoulder, which
brought me to look around and there I found a chinky-eyed dude who threw me a
huge smile and an inquisitive glance.
Chinese people are not new in the
Philippines, many of which are already citizens, but I would have mistaken him
for another Chinese-Filipino until I heard him speak with that deep Chinese accent
struggling to construct an English sentence that would start our conversation. He
asked me, “What do they serve here at Chowking?” The question was rather easy,
but I was caught tongue-tied for an answer, whilst I pointed a finger toward
the large menu at the counter.
My reaction would have been more appropriate
had I been the one who was Chinese, whereas it was the other way around. Each
time I look back to that day I met Stone Lee and three of his other companions,
I still laugh at myself. Among the four
of them that I met that day, I became very close friends with only two, Mr.Lee
and Mr. Zhang. Truly, unexpected friendships happen and the rest is
history.
Every two months after that swift
meeting with my newfound friends from China, they’d revisit the Philippines. On
each of those visits I get to meet more Chinese people, but Mr. Lee’s constant
travel buddy is Mr. Zhang. On their most recent visit to the country, during
the early part of the first week of August, I was invited to dine with them at
Yellow Cab Pizza along Makati Avenue.
The gentlemen this time had brought
with them their relatives and I got to meet their young daughters. I was
introduced to Brandon, the young Chinese boy who is the reason for this
write-up, who I was told attends a local high school in New Jersey in the
United States of America. Brandon he said is his American name. By now I had
already forgotten whose nephew he was. But that isn’t really what’s important
with what I am about to recount to you.
Over dinner, Brandon sat next to me
at the table. He did not want any share of the two large pizzas that were
ordered for the bunch. He just sat there while we ate. Earlier, on our way to
the pizza joint when we stopped for their elders to exchange money, he asked me
questions like if I knew anyone in America. I told him I have friends,
relatives and a loved one over there. So then, he asked me if I have plans to
eventually visit the place. I just smiled. I asked him why he preferred to
study in America. He gave me that naughty grin and said, “I am freer there.” He
smiled some more this time with a glint in his eyes knowing that even if his
mother was near us she would not understand a word he said. I laughed lightly.
He then asked me why I choose to
stay in my country. I told him it’s my personal choice based on profound
reasons. So he shut up and let me be. Back at the dining table, even when he
avoided the pizzas, I could tell he was famished. I asked him why he did not
even taste it. With a teasing look he quoted me and said, “It’s my personal
choice.” We both laughed at his humour. “Honestly,” he continued, “this is
mostly what I eat in America.” He got up saying he was going to order some
pasta. I went back to finishing my meal. When he got back, while waiting for
the pasta to be served, he gave me a really serious look and muttered, “Do you
believe in God?”
I was really surprised at the
question, but that was before the second question came. I said yes of course!
He asked further, “Why do you believe in God?”
Even when I was just a child, I had
always answered that question by stating that there are many things around us
that no man can ever create. That means, only Someone Supreme exists to make
all these possible. I told him I have what is called FAITH and that this is
about believing in something felt even if it is unseen.
Brandon just stared at me blankly.
He took a deep breath and it seemed like he did not comprehend anything I said.
I asked him why he seems to not know anything about God. He said as he was
growing up, no one bothered to tell him about the Almighty. He added, when he
was still in school in China, he had a female teacher who was Christian who
always spoke of God lovingly. “You see,” he continued, “I am confused why
something so great is unknown to me. Maybe, I do not believe in Him only
because I do not know Him.” I felt a pang of sadness for him.
I guess, what I am trying to say
is, having had this encounter with this young boy, do we really know what we
believe in? Don’t get me wrong. My faith is intact. I know what I believe in
and I stand by it like a shield. I am more of wondering about the kind of life
people have, those who do not know Him and/or do not believe in Him. I am glad
I was born with the faith that I needed to get me along. I am thankful I have
parents who have devout connection to divinity. I BELIEVE IN GOD.
MY
FAITH IN GOD IS NOT A RELIGION; RATHER, IT IS MY INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM
and WITH HIM I AM WHOLE!
© Theren Alexander 2013
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