Merry Christmas!

For a few Christmases now, caroling aboard public utility jeepneys has become quite a trend. And, lately, it’s not only these brash kids that do it. Decent-looking fellows, who don’t look like they have real reasons to do it, are also doing it.

I had a recent experience with one of the latter group, the ‘decent-looking’ type. The jeepney I boarded on was stuck in traffic. The short trip from my home to the office, which would usually take 15 minutes, kept me on the road for almost an hour already and it was only half the way.

Eavesdropping on the conversations of the other passengers was good diversion from the escalating stress. One elderly lady was telling another that she was on her way to church, for her third mass that day. A teenage boy was grumbling in a hushed voice – not about the traffic, but about flirting of the gay person seated next to him.

Another man discussed politics. He sounded like one of those commentators that rant on radio. Getting no reaction from anyone, he then shifted his talk to religion, about how people were missing the essence of the Christmas season. Now he sounded like the pope.

At some point, a young man in his early 20s got on the jeepney and quickly started handing leaflets to everyone aboard. When done, the guy crouched in the middle, between the two rows of us passengers, and started talking. The curious thing, he was looking down all along, as if he was avoiding our faces.

He mumbled that he was a missionary of some religious group based in Mindanao. They were raising funds for their outreach programs. Whatever amount we could give was an offering for the poor and needy.

The women among us smirked. Probably they thought it could be just a racket. The rest of us looked away; some pretending not to notice the young man in front of us, others trying to look unaffected by his spiel.

As soon as his harried chatter ended, the guy began collecting back the leaflets from each one. He repeated his plea for a small donation, invoking the spirit of the season. Not one gave. Honestly, I myself was even getting irritated by the act.

I watched him sharply when he came close to get back his flyer. Surprisingly, he had a soft face; with an earnest and timid expression, and a slight, awkward smile on. These were not easy to spot, though, because he was looking down the whole time.

The gentleness I saw touched my humanity. Perhaps this young man was only trying to test his own limits, to discover how much self-humiliation he could stand. Perhaps he avoided our faces in order not to be cowed by our hostile stares.

I grabbed his hand as he was getting off. A few coins went with the quick handshake. Then, for the first and only time, he looked up and our eyes met. “Merry Christmas, Sir,” he smiled big and held my hand firmly, and then disappeared into the looming dusk.

I can still feel the sincerity of that stranger’s greeting. This warmth will surely linger beyond the season itself. And I would like to send the same words of goodwill to everyone: Merry Christmas!