The
Little Boy
by
Maya Kintanar
(also
check out the French version of the story)
It was about 1:30 in the
afternoon and the weather was very, very hot. I just came out from a Christmas party in our school and
was on my way home. I walked towards my usual route where the jeepney stop is,
almost cursing the intolerable heat.
While waiting for a jeepney, I heard a loud noise behind me. I turned around, and saw this little boy, around the age of 5. He was bothering this Caucasian foreigner who was also waiting for a jeepney. The boy was singing the song
"Kasadya" while drumming a little wooden stick on beat-up old can. I guess he was hoping that the foreigner would give him coins
or even a bill. But it seemed that the foreigner just ignored him, maybe due to the fact that he didn't understand a word the boy was singing, or perhaps he
was also suffering the same dilemma that I was under in... exposed to the scorching heat
which not only boiled my skin, but my brains as well. Needless to say,
the heat left me in a very bad mood.
But the little boy didn't give up hope for it was a rare occasion to have an opportunity like this; foreigners were known to be quite "generous" when asked for money.
The little boy shouted, "Sir, MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!"
But this particular foreigner decided to defy the stereotypical "generous when annoyed" notion of the Filipinos.
"Leave me alone, I'm in a hurry!" said the man. The little boy insisted and eventually kept on tugging the clothes of the foreigner.
Now there were other people on the scene, and they were quite embarrassed
of the little boy's actions, especially since the foreigner might bring home a "negative idea" of the Filipino people
(Foreigners are quite sensitive about that). So the
bystanders decided to immediately stop this embarrassing display that might practically affect the reputation of the whole country and
began scolding the little boy.
"Leave him alone! You are annoying him. You are an embarrassment. Go away"
Of course, what they meant to say is that "You are embarrassing us"
The little boy, finally realizing that the foreigner wasn't going to give him any money, turned towards
me instead . I knew then that I was going to be the next one he will bother. And of course, he did exactly that.
The government has already warned us not to give money to these streetkids. They practically beg everywhere, at jeepney stops, on the streets, in front of the churches and schools, and even on highways!!!
I told him to go away, to leave me alone, but he didn't budge one bit.
"Ah, at last, my ride has arrived," I thought. But to my surprise, the little boy followed me and rode on the same jeepney.
Inside, the people were as noisy as usual. Some were chatting, others
motioned that they were disembarking. Time after time, the jeepney
would stop to pick up passengers ... etc... etc... etc...
It was rather boring and I must admit, I am quite observant when there is nothing else to do. I looked at the little boy who bothered me just a few minutes ago. Though he seemed rather
naughty, I could see his eyes were filled with fatigue. Probably, he was
thinking about the kind of childhood that he was having --- or would never
have.
The conductor interrupted both our thoughts. "Boy, are you going to pay?" asked the conductor
"Ehhhh.... but I don't have any money!" answered the boy
"Well, you can't ride here. Everybody has to pay, even children!"
I could see that the conductor was irked. I found myself pitying the boy, and
so I offered to pay...
"I'll pay for him," I said to the conductor.
The conductor accepted my payment and turned to the little
boy, "Good. You're very lucky that a kind citizen decided to pay for you,"
he said.
"Thank you so much!" whispered the little boy to me.
I began talking to the little boy during the whole trip. I learned that he
was living near my place in a little shack with his mother.
I really pitied him as I heard him relate his hard life. The little boy's father left his
wife when the little boy was only 1 year old. And now, his mother doesn't have any work so they have to rely on what little money he gets from begging.
The little boy and I eventually got to our
destination. We got out of the jeepney and started walking. In front of my house, I gave him the
package of spaghetti which I brought over from the party. I was
taking one step towards my gate, when suddenly I thought of this great idea!
"Would you like to have dinner with my family tonight? You can bring your mother
along with you."
"Really?!?!?" the little boy said, quite surprised
"Yup, but first of all, you must prepare yourself. Take a bath and come back at
around 7:00 p.m."
"Thank you, I'll be back at 7:00 p.m. exactly," the
little boy told me.
As 7:00 p.m. drew near, I went to the veranda to wait for the
arrival of the little boy and his mother. They weren't here yet.
I was beginning to get
impatient. While waiting, I began rearranging the nativity scene that we had
displayed in our porch.
It took me some time
until I noticed something different on the face of the baby Jesus lying on the manger.
His mouth was covered with orange stains
(kind of like the stains made by eating spaghetti). And beside him....
....a little wooden stick and a beat-up old can.
Back to the
Author
See the French version of this story
Back to the
Main Page