A Time for Tolerance and Peace

My son made it abundantly clear that whatever we’ve planned by way of presents for him this Yuletide Season he wants it all in cash. He’s already purchased CD-ROMs of the latest games in the market. And to top it all off, he also wants my computer beginning January 1, 2000.

My nephew wants a huge Tonka crane and back hoe for Christmas and he smiles ear to ear as he explains where he plans to dig up around the house when Santa comes down from his imaginary chimney with his gift. I love the expression on his face beaming with that wonderful free spirit of a young child.

Then the discussion turned to religion as my brothers and youngest sister talked of their wish to proactively seek a closer relationship with Him. Their expression was a quick sentimental journey through memory lane of the religious training our late mom and dad have taught us and the essence of spiritual development. I recall my younger days when mom had me leading the rosary every single evening at 8 p.m. before the troops call it a night.

I thought this soul was the religious among the bunch but as they talked about novenas we attended together around the Lali Fo` neighborhood, it dawned on me how my parents have influenced our understanding of the dire need for a powerful and permanent anchor as we move through the uneven playground of real life. I am proud of what mom and dad had instilled in us and despite all our misgivings, we still struggle to meet our religious obligations along with our siblings.

The novenas around the neighborhood was a gathering in itself. A 25 pound empty fire extinguisher was what we used as a bell. Everybody knows that prayer time begins after the third bell. But the fun part of this community gathering was the last day of the novena. It means red rice, fried or chicken adobo and some cool aid or some form of refreshment. It’s also an occasion to look forward to another meal for those of us who treasure fried fryers.

Man, we treat fried fryers like some royal dish. None of us knew that they’re fed with growth hormones and marketed in 45 days. Never mind what’s in it, we’re hungry! And to make sure that nothing is wasted, we even chew the bones until it’s as fine as sand. We could tell that the neighborhood dogs aren’t happy with what’s left for them. And they’re probably protesting, “You greedy, bloody homo-sapiens”. Sorry dogs, these kids are hungry and swimming in the pits of malnutrition too, yeah?

Perhaps the only two things that I’ve always wanted for Christmas were a bicycle and a pair of shoes. Unfortunately, it was only a dream of a destitute kid constantly swimming in the sea of abject poverty. And if you owned a bicycle (Sonny Flores had one) we’d do the pedaling for you when you’re fast asleep. We’d steal it to cruise around Lali Fo`. And we literally Scrooged him (Sonny) until he gave up fixing flat tires and broken chain.

But we were a happy bunch considering all that we didn’t have then in the western sense of the Yuletide Season of presents and lavish dinner. And as I finish composing this column, I know that John Boy wants it beginning January 1, 2000. I have quietly surrendered it. It’s the thing of the future and he needs to develop literacy in both computer and technology. Its a good investment and something I can tolerate with a peace of mind this Noche Buena.