In the spirit of Christmas

The spirit of Christmas is surely in the air – but I have to be honest, at times I still remember my papa and miss him so much. This week, I would often meet his friends during Christmas parties and they would tell me that "malungkot ang Christmas". Like little children in a party they await his coming pa rin and long for his voice that reverberates throughout the whole room – full of energy making the party a jolly one indeed. This time papa never entered the scene of the party, he was probably around though, in spirit.

In one occasion, my Uncle Arthur (one of my dad’s best friends) entered the room, for a while, I forgot my dad was dead, I was looking for him. I thought he was behind Uncle Arthur, he was not. My dad’s driver Don Don attended the Philippine Star Christmas party – I told him he must attend, he really did not feel like going. When he was at the party, his friends there said, "iba talaga, wala si Sir!"

During the past Christmases, my dad would give tips to the drivers, guards, newspaper boys, waiters, waitresses, maids, etc. He did not give them once but twice or thrice within the same season. Once I asked him why he was so generous knowing he was a pure-blooded Ilocano. He told me the story that happened to their family on Christmas day. This became my favorite family story and I keep on remembering it every Christmas. I am sure many readers may have come across this story already but for the sake of the other readers, I would like to repeat it. It has been an inspiration to me and I hope it will be to you...

A Christmas Story… By Maximo V. Soliven (December 15, 1956)

When I was a first year high school student in those days that we "probinsyanos" like to refer to as "before the pre-war," I came upon this memorable line in a textbook: "I used to cry because I had no shoes until I saw a child who had no feet!"

Before the spirit of the season passes, let me reprint a story written by a young girl (Mercedes Soliven, my sister) almost a decade and a half ago.

It was Christmas Eve, 1943, our first Christmas back in the city after the passing of a dreadful war that took away from children the precious thought that Santa Claus would again come to their homes to bring toys, candies and gifts and all the nice things children long for at Christmas time. And that hope for us was gone completely when Papa died.

Evening had come. Mama gathered us about her and together we sang "Silent Night" and other Christmas songs we knew. That Infant King must have been deafened by the fervor of the ten voices singing so loud that the cardboard Belen would shake now and then and the flicker of the lamp would shy away from the tremor of a misleading voice. Our Belen seemed right for a shack that was our home – standing behind the ruins and rubble of our old house. Before the green painted abaca and make believe Christmas tree, pompously bedecked with winding silver streamers, were gaily wrapped boxes that looked like gifts, though they were empty. And as we prayed the rosary the little oil lamp threw a celestial glow upon the Infant’s face and He seemed to smile, stretching wide His tiny arms to envelop us all in His love. "Children, better get ready… hurry up before the store closes. Or we’ll miss our window shopping." This was the cue for us to scramble for the single comb we had, each taking his or her turn, with the four of us sisters tying bright ribbons around our pigtails and slipping into our pretty bakyas (step-ins) which were the newest things we owned. Our older brothers took great pride in their long khaki pants and shirts, and their G.I. shoes. The younger ones donned their short pants and the printed shirts that Mama had managed to fix up in such a manner as to make the signs of wear and tear on them disappear into the prints.

Mama, in her long-sleeved black dress, looked on us with pride. We were lined up ready and eager to leave on an exciting window-shopping spree.

I was then eight years old. We were keeping observance of a family tradition that for as long as I can remember our Papa and Mama carried out each year… to step out on Christmas Eve and to view the lovely multi-colored lighted Christmas trees and enjoy the sight of the toys, beautifully wrapped gifts, and all the other nice things that would representative of Christmas. But we knew that this Christmas we would not have any new toys. My oldest brother (Max), who understood things a lot better than us, made up an alibi that Santa was broke as a result of the cruel war. This satisfied our children’s hearts.

When we arrived at Escolta, teeming with people all rushing back and forth, we marveled at the display of toys, feasting our eyes upon all the new things as though we were having a glimpse of Heaven!

The nine of us would fill the entire length of a display window and press our noses flat against the glass pane in an effort to get as closely as possible to the toys and the colored candies which were, oh, so marvelous to see. When we stayed too long, Mama would remind us there were others behind who were similarly eager to get a closer view. The crowd was dense and Mama deployed us a good General would, instructing me, being the oldest of the girls, to hold on tight to the two younger ones. My oldest brother held on to the younger boys. Our poor Mother had to carry the youngest one, who was too small to look over our shoulders to enjoy the sights. We kept exclaiming aloud in amazement at the things we saw. Finally, I could not help but burst out – "Ma, can’t you buy me that doll? Look at her dimples and her hair! Please Mama, buy me that doll!" My brothers cutting in – "Ma, this is the book I’ve always wanted!"

Now on the verge of tears, Mama answered – "My dears, feast your eyes on them and make a fervent wish and prayer that perhaps by next year you will receive all the things you want…" and her smile softened the painful longings in our hearts that night as we watched other children romp out of the store with boxes and boxes of gifts under their arms.

Suddenly, out of nowhere came a voice – "Excuse me, Ma’am, are all these your children, the nine of them?"

"Why yes! I brought them out to see these beautiful toys… you see, we’re just window-shopping! I’ve watched you for some time now and I couldn’t help overhearing your children. Here is fifty pesos, Ma’am. Perhaps you could buy something for them this Christmas!"

This was a happy surprise for Mama and she could not say anything for some time – all she was able to say was – "Thank you! Thank you! May God Bless you for this!" Before Mother could add anything more the kind lady disappeared into the crowd. One can imagine what happiness we had that night! "Now, children," said Mama, "We can have a nice Christmas dinner after all!"

We arrived home that night, tired and exhausted but happy with the thought that, after all, our Christmas was going to be a very happy one! The preparation for the Christmas meal was full of joy and excitement. Looking forward to it made the Midnight Mass we attended at the Ateneo Chapel seem long and dragging. But Mother reminded us that we should say some special "Thank you" prayers to the Child Jesus. So, obediently, we knelt to adore the Infant. As we walked out of the Chapel, a familiar voice greeted us – "A Merry and Holy Christmas!"

Father John Hurley, S.J., well understood the gratitude that filled our hearts for at once he said, "Yes, I shall say a Thanksgiving Mass."

As he watched us disappear into the darkness, a lady approached and greeted him. "You look happy, Miss Reyes," he greeted her. "There must be some special reason!" Miss Reyes replied, "Yes, Father! I feel the satisfaction and joy of having fulfilled the Christmas wish of a kind American officer. He gave me a fifty peso bill to give to a needy and deserving family and tonight I met that family."

"I know, Lulu," Father Superior replied, "he certainly brought the joy of Christmas to nine orphaned children and a grateful mother who just asked me to say a Thanksgiving Mass for this kind stranger."

And Lulu came to know later on that this family was the orphaned family of the man she had admired for his noble principles and statesmanship as Assemblyman and a strong Defender of the Church.