MARIA: Your Life Matters

Introduction to Maria's Life

When stories are written, emotions bloom and what blooms in this story is contentment and satisfaction. It doesn't mean there's no more pain when satisfied. It doesn't mean you won't want more when you're contented. It's just that you've moved on from the cycle.

In the land where coconut trees grow, an old bahay kubo stands cricketing in the harsh wind as it sways with the storm. A family of six shelter in this home. A girl not older than nine years old lay flat on her stomach in one of the rooms divided by a bamboo split and amakan wall.

She was writing on her pad, which her mother bought from the public market at a very cheap price.

"The Lord is my strength, my hope (I) shall not wither," she paused after writing her personal reminder and nibbled on her pencil's eraser.

The blowing of the wind didn't escape her ears, but she doesn't let it stop her from reading despite the storm. Her mama has convinced her that "education is the key to success." She wants to be educated, but she also wants to know more about her God and her faith and in what she believes in.

She remembers, although she didn't yet understand the mechanism of how the world works, that one sunny day as she was on her way to school running late, two ladies were charismatically teaching young children like her on the streets. This caught her attention. She got caught in the colorful presentation of the ladies that she, too, stopped by and listened. She listened and looked at the pictures and she liked what she heard. They were talking about God and how "in the beginning there was nothing...and God created the heavens and the earth." They talked about this amazing person called Jesus, who was fully God and fully human!

She shouldn't have believed the mambo-jumbo of the strangers, but something whispered in her thoughts and opened her heart to accept and to listen to the teachings. Now, she didn't regret listening to them despite going late for her first class in the afternoon.

While she was lost in her thoughts, a seven year old girl was playing, sucking her thumb in the tiny space down the stairs which the family call their living room, a four year old fair child was cuddling her blankets in the manmade blanket swing, which fit her mold, and a baby was crying in their mama's arms being coaxed to silence with a bottle-feed of milk, which was yet to be prepared.

There were leaks on the roof and different materials were used to catch the droplets and protect their bamboo floor from getting wet as well as their clothes stuck inside a makeshift cabinet. Even an old kettle was used to catch the droplets!

Where one would seem to lose hope when faced with such poverty and limitations, where rainwater droplets drizzle from one of the holes on the nipa roof, or whose home is nearly destroyed by a local tornado, the nine-year-old's hope remains firm and strong. A radiant smile beaming from her face is proof. Her mama once told her, "Poverty isn't the end of the line, my child. It is when one loses hope. That is the end of the line for them." So, she kept it in mind all the time.

Where children from school would bully and make fun of her because of her social standing and because she's just an average student, not so bright, not so poor in academics, she would just laugh it off and play under the sun. Nobody could stop her from being 'hyperactive', as what 'they' call it and continue to enjoy her young life.

As she was reading another line from her favorite book, because it's the only one the family has in possession, knocks came through the bamboo door. The girl heard her mama get to the door telling one of her sisters to "stay clear from the table. Hot water may spill from the thermos." She put down the old book and went down to the living room, which was in fact just a space. There, near the door, she saw her mom carrying her baby brother while helping somebody into their living room. She ran towards the person exclaiming, "Papa!" of which the others joined in.

The seven-year-old left the table where the milk was and called back, "Papa!"

The sleeping figure on the makeshift swing woke up and immediately turned enthusiastic as she merrily called, "Papa!" while still being a little disoriented as she went straight to the kitchen before heading towards the door.

The seven-year-old interjected, " Did you bring food papa? I'm so hungry."

The couple looked at each other exchanging meaningful glances before their papa said, "Yes, I did! When did I ever forget to bring your favorite."

"Yehey!" exclaimed the cream-colored seven-year-old. Her skin tone is what one would call the black sheep among the siblings as she is the only one with a darker shade while the others were born fair in complexion. Too fair for a typical island family in the country.

"Yes! Yes!," the just awoken little one excitedly jumped from glee as everyone followed their papa to the table.

The nine-year-old looked at her siblings, hugged her papa and said, " I'm glad you arrived home safe papa." Of which, he replied with a smile. "I'll set the table. Kiesa, please help older sister with these," she said as she looked at her younger sibling who readily exclaimed, "okay!"

Their mama finished preparing the milk for their baby brother put down the scoop and said, "That's the last scoop of milk he's going to have for this month. Tomorrow, I'd go to the market and buy him his cereals."

Their papa was just silent. Sensing his hesitance, their mama said, "We'll talk about this later." To which, their papa just acknowledged with a nod.

"Mama, we're done setting the table. Even Nickie helped with the plates," said Kiesa.

"Here's the rice I prepared mama, papa. Let's eat," said the nine-year-old eldest sibling in the family.

"Alright," said their papa.

"Let's pray the blessing before meals. Who would want to lead the prayer?"

"Me," she immediately volunteered. "I could memorize it already."

And so, the family ate their dinner together happily munching on their meal inside the bosom of their candlelit home. The wind rampaged outside; wind blew askew. Their house swayed with it, but it remained intact, fortunately.

As the night got darker and it was past ten in the evening, the girl went back to her spot and opened her book again.

She left after she washed the plates. On her way towards their shared bedroom, she heard her mama and papa talk, "You need to find a better paying job Fernando. The children aren't getting any younger and they all go to school. What do we do to support their education?"

"Ging, I'll find a way. For now, this is the only job I could find, you know that."

"This money will not last long Fernando. It never does," she heard her mama exhale a significant sigh. "If only-"

She didn't continue what she wanted to say, but the air of regret from the words left unsaid remained present in the silence.

She began reading another text. Her sister, Kiesa, lay on her side towards the wall sucking her thumb again, which she gently peeled off away from her mouth and was sucked in again. So, she gave up and just let her have her rest. Nikkie was beside Kiesa asleep once again. This fair child loves to sleep.

Her papa came into the room and prepared their mat, pillows, and blanket. When he noticed that one of his children was still awake, he stopped what he was doing and talked to her.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" he asked.

"I still want to read papa," replied the girl.

"But the candle's almost off. It's dangerous to read in this kind of weather, Maria. You know that. You can continue reading it tomorrow, alright?"

The girl called Maria sighed. She thought her papa was right. "Alright. Good night, papa." Then, her papa took the book from her and put it back inside the cabinet.

"Good night. Sleep tight," he said as he helped her tuck into their shared blanket and gave them their kisses on their forehead.

Their papa blew off the candle.
Maria closed her eyes and listened to the pitter patter of the rainwater that escaped from their roof, leaking into one of the plastic pails they used to catch the droplets. She was hopeful despite all this. She knew that tomorrow is another day. Another day to go to school. What runs through her mind as rest took her deeper into her dreams, nobody knows. We just know that she has one blessed family.