i got this touching story from my aunt whom she also got as forwarded email.
im posting it here because i believe that the kids in the story below need HELPING HANDS.
im sharing this for you and me to reflect....
Basureros
>
>Ever since i was diagnosed of having a possible heart enlargement in the
>last APE, I had exerted more effort to do physical exercises. I do
>jogging during weekdays and do long-ride mountain biking every Sunday. But
>this Sunday is a special Sunday to me. While I was on my way to the
>mountains of Busay ( Cebu ) hoping to strengthen my heart by this exercise, I
>had a personal encounter with a heart-breaking scene that changed me.
>
>
>I already passed by the Marco Polo Plaza ( formerly Cebu Plaza Hotel )
>when I decided to stop at a small carenderia located along the road to buy
>bananas. I hadn't taken any solid food that morning so I needed fruits to
>have the energy to get to my destination - the mountain top. I was
>almost done eating with the 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 cared less for this kind of
>children. Actually; to make it straight, I do not like them, and I do not
>trust them even more. This is because, I have been a victim several times
>to these kind of children who are pretending to be basureros looking for
>empty bottles and cans when, in fact, the 'plangganas', 'kalderos', and
>'hinayhays' are their favorites. I remember one afternoon while I was
>watching a Mike Tyson fight when I noticed that the TV screen suddenly
>became blurred. I checked outside and saw two young basureros running away
>with my newly installed antenna. Hatred maybe too strong a word to
>describe my feeling towards these basureros, but I do not like them
>honestly - not 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 of age, saying aloud to the other, a 12-yr
>old boy , "Kuya si Dodong kuha-a kay nag-sige'g tan-aw sa mga nagkaon,
>maulaw ta" (Kuya si Dodong kunin mo kasi tumitingin sa mga kumain,
>nakakahiya), only then that I noticed a small boy standing near me slightly
>biting his finger.
>
>
>He's a few inches shorter compared to my 5-year old son (but I knew later
>that he was also 5 years old). Though he did not ask for food from anyone
>in the carenderia, the way he looked at the customers who were eating was
>enough to convince me that he intensely craved 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 the street back to the garbage area, I heard
>the tindera saying " Lo-oy kaayo nang mga bataa uy, mga buotan ra ba na"
>(Kawawa naman yung mga batang yun, mababait pa naman). I learned further
>from the carenderia owner that the children were from a good family. Both
>parents were working before, that their father had a stroke 3 years ago and
>became partially paralized. Their mother died of heart attack while their
>father was still confined at the hospital. The parents were still in their
>early forties when the catastrophe happened. The children became basureros
>since then to meet their daily needs and for 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 noy, salamat na lang, magpalit lang nya mi kung
>mahalinan na mi" (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 . "Naanad na
>man mi ani " (Nasanay na po kami), the girl answered again. I explained
>further that the rain could make them sick and if they would become sick
>there would be no one to take care of their father.
>
>
>Upon mentioning their father, they nodded and accepted the bread. I
>noticed that the older boy did not eat. When I asked him if he did not
>like the kind of bread I bought for them, he just smiled. But as he was
>about to explain, the little girl, who was the more talkative of them
>interrupted, " Domingo man gud ron noy, basta Sabado ug Domingo hapon ra
>siya mokaon, kami ra ang mokaon ug pamahaw pero dili na pod mi mokaon inig
>hapon, si kuya ra. Pero basta Lunes ngadto sa Biyernes, kay klase man, si
>kuya ra sad ang seguro-on ug papamahaw, kami hapon na sad mi moka-on. Pero
>kung daghan mi ug halin mokaon mi tanan." (Linggo po kasi ngayon, pag
>Sabado at Linggo hapon lang po sya kumakain, kami lang po ang kumakain ng
>agahan pero di na po kami kakain pagdating ng hapon, si kuya na lang po.
>Pero kapag Lunes hanggang Biyernes, kasi may pasok, si kuya lang po ang
>nag-aagahan, kami hapunan lang pero kung marami kaming benta kami pong
>lahat kumakain), she continued.
>
>
>"Ngano man diay ug mokaon mong tanan, bahinon ninyo bisan ug unsa ka
>gamay?" (Bakit kung kumain kayong lahat, hati-hatiin nyo na lang kahit
>kaunti lang ang pagkain?) I countered. The young girl reasoned out that
>their father wanted that her older brother to come to school with full
>stomach so he can easily catch up with the teacher's lessons. "Inig ka
>trabaho ni kuya mo undang na man mi ug pamasura, first honor baya na siya
>" (Kapag nagkatrabaho na si kuya, hihinto na kami sa pambabasura, first
>honor kasi sya), the little boy added proudly.
>
>
>Maybe I was caught by surprise or I was just overly emotional that my
>tears started 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 didn't know how many seconds or minutes I spent just to compose myself;
>pretending again this time that I was mending by bike.
>
>Finally I got on my bike and approached the three children to bid goodbye
>to them who in turn cast their grateful smiles at me. I then took a good
>look at all of them specially at the small boy and patted his head with a
>pinch in my heart. Though I believe that their positive look at life can
>easily change their present situation, there is one thing that they can
>never change - that is, their being motherless. That little boy can no
>longer taste the sweet embrace, care, and most of all, the love of his
>mother forever. Nobody can refill the empty gap created by that sudden and
>untimely death of their mother.
>
>
>Every big event that will happen in their lives will only remind them and
>make them wish of their mother's presence. I reached in 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.
>However, I jokingly said to the girl "sumbagon ta karon kung di nimo
>dawaton" (suntukin kita diyan kapag hindi mo tinanggap yan). She smiled
>as she extended her hand to take the money. "Salamat noy makapalit gyud me
>ron ug tambal ni papa " (salamat po, makakabili kami nito ng gamot ni
>papa), she uttered.
>
>
>I then turned to the small boy. Though he was 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 worned-out toy car. I waved my hands
>and said bye bye to him as I drove towards the mountains again. Did he
>just find the toy from the garbage - or the toy was originally his until
>the misfortune took place? I did not bother to ask.
>
>
>But one thing is crystal clear to me - that inspite of the boy's abnormal
>life, he did not give up his childhood completely. I can sense it in the
>way he held and stared at his toy.
>
>
>My meeting with those young basureros made me poorer by 100 pesos.
>However, they changed me and made me a lot richer as to lessons of life
>are concerned. From them, I have learned that life can change suddenly and
>I may be caught flat footed. From them, I've learned that even the darkest
>side of life cannot change the beauty of one's heart. Those three
>children, who sometimes cannot eat three times a day, are still able to
>hold on to what they believe is right. This is a contrast to most of us
>who are quick to point out to our misfortunes when caught with our
>mistakes. From them, I've learned to hope for better things when things
>seem to go the other way.
>
>Lastly, I know that God cares for them far more than we do. That though He
>allows them to experience such a terrible life which our finite minds
>cannot comprehend, His unquestionable love will surely follow them through.
>And in God's own time they will win.
>
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Topic: Post-Operation Care (Hugs and Tears) (Read 2122 times)