A Very Precious Gift From Lola...

Mother's Unsung Hymn

This story is my original creation which I used as an entry to the Storytelling Competition during the Provincial Meet held on November 19, 2009 at St. Paul University Philippines.

In a nipa hut one cold night, she was packing her things up when her daughter suddenly gave her a tight hug.

She was crying hard when she said, “Mother, why do you have to go?”

“I must my child, I must…”

She can no longer bear the pain of seeing her daughter starve. She can no longer take away the pain from her pierced heart whenever she sees her go to school without baon. She can no longer turn herself into a stone whenever she is bullied by her playmates.

Half-a-year ago, one of their neighbors told her about an agency sending domestic helpers abroad…

“Try your luck, Ida.”

“I can’t. I can’t leave my child.”

“You can’t give what she wants; you can’t even give what she needs! You don’t expect his father to come back, do you?”

So she tried her luck, she applied. She mortgaged their small farmland. She underwent screenings and lucky for her to pass though she looks like a walking stick.

“Two years, my child. It wont be too long.”

“No, mother! I will miss you!..”

“I will write letters, I will give you chocolates.. I will give you money so you could buy toys and clothes. Isn’t that amazing?!”

“Wow! Really? I like that Mama!”

Before she rode on the bus, she gave her little princess a doll which she had made by herself. She doesn’t want to leave her daughter to his drunkard brother but she had no choice. And as her daughter bid her goodbye, tears rolled down her cheeks.

She didn’t fall asleep on that 11-hour trip. As she got down the bus, she transferred from one jeepney to another on her way to NAIA for she cannot afford to ride a taxi.

At last, she arrived at Hong Kong – the answer for their dreams. Months passed, she endured the pain of being maltreated just to redeem their lot. Her contract expired and she found a new employer.

Aling Ida worked hard so she can give whatever Isang desires. She had a lot of sidelines and one time on her vacation:

“Wow, I like this! Thank you, Mama!

“I miss you Isang, I miss you…”

“Can I go out with my friends, Ma?”

“Come here first, give me a hug”

“Later Mama! I have to change”

“Aling Ida’s vacation was just for a week and she didn’t had quality time with her daughter. Before she passed through the door, she saw the doll which she had made years ago.

When she arrived at Hong Kong:

“It seems like she doesn’t care at all. My efforts seem to be nothing to her. What is her problem?”

So she called her daughter….

“Hello, Ma! What’s the problem?”

“Do you miss me, Isang?”

“Duh?.. Ma, it’s Isa! Isa! OMG! I’m sorry, Ma! I’m sorry! Hello, Ma? Ma? Hello! I can’t hear you, Ma. I can’t hear you. Hello?”

“Do you want me to come back?”

“No, Ma! I mean, ugh.. ahm.. I’m alright, Ma! Promise, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. Besides if you’ll come back here, what will you earn?”

“So what do you want?”

“Me Ma? What do I want?! Hmm… I want a laptop. A camera. The latest cellphone, Ma. And, ughh! Aha! I want a very grand celebration for my birthday. Please, Ma! Please…!”

“Okay. I’ll save some money..”

“Thanks, Ma!”

Aling Ida doubled up her efforts. She saved a lot of money but these are all wasted because when she got home….

“I’ve waited for you all night!”

“Why, why are you here?”

“Why were you at the bar? Why did I find some foils in your drawer? Tell me, Isang; tell me!”

“ah.. ah..”

Aling Ida rushed Isang in the hospital. The doctor explained that she has a heart failure due to drugs, liquor and cigarette.

“Where am I? Where am I? Is this hell? Who are you?”

“I’m your mother…”

Isang had no other chance but to undergo a heart transplant. Aling Ida searched for a compatible heart but she can’t find any. And so she made up her mind with a very painful decision…”

A day after Isang’s operation…

“Nurse, what happened?”

“Ma’am, you just had an operation.”

“What? Where’s my companion? Who was with me?”

The nurse cannot answer Isang’s question so she just handed her the box. In it is a letter, a doll and a house title. The letter goes this way:

“Isang,

My beloved daughter, years ravaged our relationship. But I’m so happy, happy that God gave me someone like you. You gave me reason to struggle. Remember the doll? I hope it will always remind you of me. Take care always my child. I love you my child. I’m leaving a title for you so you could build your dreams. I also left money on your account.

When you were a child, you asked me: “Mama, why do uou have to go?”. Don’t worry Isang. We will be together forever someday. I love you my child! Remember that I am always with you….”

“No! No! This is not happening! No! Mother, please! This is not happening! No, Mama! Please! I’m sorry Mama! I’m sorry!....

Now I know… Why does she have to go….”

Written by Louise Angelique N. Cepeda

Patterned from the poem “The Ballad of a Mother’s Heart”

(Made possible with the help of Miss Jannel T. Banadero)

Poem Number Infinity Minus One

Photo credits:
http://es.trekearth.com/gallery/Europe/Poland/photo364270.htm


You were there
You loved me at my worst

You beg me not to leave
I promised you I wont

'Til fate cracked a joke
You forgot the vow
It is I, only I
Who can remember

This is my final goodbye
For WE DIDN'T RHYME
LIKE THE LINES IN THIS POEM... :(

>>>> This poem is based merely on a vicarious experience. It never happened to me and I hope it wont happen to me at all.. :)

Why did I entitle it "Poem Number Infinity Minus One"?
- Think of this, people who are driven by love to write often makes use of numbers in their poems as it shows how many poems have their written to the one they love most.
"Infinity" suggests that the persona have already written a lot of poem but then "Minus One" sets into the scene since in the last stanza it was mentioned that the poem is the last one to be written.

To My Brother Juan

Weep not, oh, Juan
Though your country is dead
This zealous oath I pronounce:
"Your heartache I can mend"

The land you tilled
The breeze you kept clean

The sea you sailed

Have been killed in time

Your people is waiting in vain
Of who will rescue them I
n the oceans of debt
Your ship have sunk

Do not despair, oh, Juan
Not that trigger in your head
For when you're dead
Who are they waiting for?