The Best Christmas of All

Traffic was terrible on Friday. Some said it was because of the approaching typhoon Urduja. Others argued that it was due to the Christmas season.

Whatever the cause, I think we just have to get used to it – it may still take some time before the infrastructure to address the city’s traffic problem would be in place. And yet there’s no guarantee that the intended solution will actually work.

The recent traffic situation brought to my mind an experience several Decembers past. Traffic was also bad that afternoon. I waited for a ride for almost an hour, and there was just none available.

Then, a jeepney pulled over where I stood. There was no passenger aboard, and so I thought to get on this one. I would take the jeepney until the main street, where I could hopefully get a taxi.

The driver was grumbling. Passengers were scarce the whole day. Many people preferred to walk to the nearby mall than be stuck on the road.

I asked how long it would take for us to get to a point where I could find a taxi. “Forever!” the driver sneered. My innocent question irked the poor fellow.

The delay was soon beginning to get to me. What a waste of time! It was almost dusk. I was also getting annoyed by the surrounding noise of motor vehicles.

My anxiety was rising up to my nape. What had I done to deserve such torment? My resentment turned to God – why did He put me in such situation?

To my great amazement, God answered. Yes, he did! Although, I didn’t recognize His voice, at first. He did not speak in roaring thunder; he spoke, instead, in the voice of a small child.

God’s spokesman was a boy – around seven or nine years old – clinging at the back of the jeepney I was on. He was singing “Christmas in Our Hearts.” He was actually caroling – to me!

I was initially annoyed. These kids are making a career of caroling these days. It’s a kind of juvenile racket. They pop up from out of the blue, mumble unintelligible words, and then, “Merry Christmas!” They wouldn’t leave until you give.

But this boy was different. He sang in perfect tune, and with clear words. And he was looking at me all the while, like he really meant, for me, every word he uttered. His voice, though, was somewhat hushed, as if his song was for me only.

I motioned him to get inside and sit. It was not safe to be clinging on a moving vehicle. Well, the jeepney was not really moving as fast as it should be, but, just the same, I wanted the boy to be safe.

He stopped singing momentarily and said the driver would make him pay fare if he sat. I said I’d pay for him, and then gave him the money for our fare, his and mine. Then, I asked him to continue his singing.

The boy sang earnestly. When he was done, I handed to him three pieces of five-peso coins, all that was left in my pocket. He smiled big. Just in time, I told the driver to pull over. I got off.

The caroler boy got off, too. And he stayed with me as I moved to the roadside to wait for a taxi. “What now?” I asked rather harshly. My disdainful act was met with a large grin, a symbol of pure goodwill I very rarely come by these days.

He raised his little hands, and offered to me the token of his friendship – two pieces of bite-size candy bars. In a clear tone of gladness, he told me he got four of those from “señora” (some affluent woman, for sure). I was dumbfounded by the gesture.

The boy’s sheer humanity haunts me to this day. He embodies what Christmas really is. He reminds me to forget being “me” and try being “us,” at Christmastime at least.

God told me, through that little caroler boy, that the best Christmas of all is one we celebrate in our hearts – whether in December or at any other time of the year.