Bridget Jones is A Man...and I am Her

Give Love on Christmas Day

The Jacksons struck oil with the classic holiday tune hit, "Give Love on Christmas Day" with its excellent arrangement and easy lyrics (not to mention the "hoo-hoo-hoo’s"). But this blog is not about a review of the song. Heaven forbid if I invade review music as well. No. This is about what it means.

I was on my way to have my haircut today. Heaven knows how my aesthetic value has decreased by 22% due to long hair so the urgency of a haircut was existent. Anyway, I was in the jeep sitting beside this very old woman in her late 80"s. Her skin was shriveled and creased both from age and the harshness of life. She has involuntary twitching on her cheeks (squiggling as Dylan said) that was almost sadly grotesque. I was surprised when she talked to me, informing me that she is going to San Antonio, Binan Market. Knowing that she took the wrong ride, I informed her that she needs to take another jeep. She paused then she answered, "Hindi kasi ako marunong magbasa. Nahihilo na nga ako eh. Kanina pa akong umaga hindi kumakain." I asked her why she was alone. She said, "Iniwan na ako ng mga anak ko." I was struck with a stabbing pain as my heart broke of her incapacity and state of being alone and unloved which was evident in the bitterness in her voice. I forced back my tears and told her that I shall accompany her. We got off at Morales, she taking baby steps and I carried her big bag. We boarded a tricycle and she said to me, "Salamat, iho. Napakabait mo." I could not hold back the tears so I cried. I got off at Bambi’s salon, paid the driver fifty pesos, and gave the change of thirty pesos to the old lady. She held my hand and she struggled to look me straight in the eye and said, "Salamat." As the tricycle drove away and before I proceeded to getting my now trivial and mundane haircut, I lit a cigarette and contemplated on what I have done. I made someone happy and for a moment maybe I have given someone the gift of being and feeling loved in the direst of circumstances. As I gave my almost extinguished cigarette a last puff, I would never forget the old lady who just gave me the gift of re-introducing me to the meaning of giving.

posted by Being Jerome Daclison @ 5:02 PM