If I had a new canvas
I’d paint something new
Not something so dark
Not something so blue
Not something so measured
But more of things treasured
And it won’t be for sale
Not for public display
I’ll hang it on a nail
A picture of children at play
Tag Archives | children
The Old Painter
Big Reminders with a Big Breakfast
Remember to Give
I’m sitting in a corner Mc Donald’s somewhere in Taytay. I’m having a not-at-all healthy breakfast and killing time here with my faithful driver, Non, before I head back to work. I haven’t eaten in McDonalds in a while. Don’t plan to come back anytime soon. My body is so used to healthier things that eating junk doesn’t appeal to me anymore.
Very early this morning, before the sun was up, I had gone to the Habitat for Humanity site in Pasig 2 for a home turnover that was featured on Umagang Kay Ganda (which happens to be the show of my sister-in-law, Carla). We’re building 416 homes in partnership with the city government of Pasig for families living in disaster risk areas, particularly those living beside the infamous Pasig River. Housing is an incredibly serious issue in the Philippines and its social impact is felt even more in urban settings. The home deficit is about 3-4,000,000, and I believe that’s only in an urban setting. That’s not hard to believe when you take into account that Metro Manila has 12,000,000 people and the whole Philippines has a population of 97,000,000.
That’s a lot of people.
Shelter is more than just building a shell, it’s about security and dignity, and part of bringing security and dignity is connecting with groups that can bring in other home necessities such as running water, sewage, electricity, livelihood, values formation, and other similar soft programs.
It’s really a huge effort. But it’s also very rewarding, which is why I don’t hesitate to invite, people to join our builds, donate their idle land, contribute in cash, or find some other creative way to take part in Habitat for Humanity or my other favorite, Real LIFE.
Don’t wait until you have more. Don’t wait for tomorrow. Don’t wait until someone’s looking. Don’t wait until you’re perfect. Don’t wait until you figure it out. Just give.
Remember to Let Go
Last night, the Real LIFE team had a thank you dinner at Tina Pamintuan’s restaurant L’incontro for Dr. Joey Castro. Doc, as we all call him, is the founder of the Real LIFE Foundation but is moving to Brunei to do ministry there.
I would count Doc to be one of most influential men in my life and I thank God for Him. I couldn’t ask for a better first boss (though he would say I did the bossing around). While many young graduates are mentored in finance, administration, sales, marketing, and other business functions, what I got was a first hand lesson in value. It was during my time with Doc at Real LIFE that I understood that more than programs and superstructures it is people that are most valuable.
I’d be the first to admit we didn’t know anything about scholarship programs, much less about building a foundation. But we saw the need and knew someone had to fill it, even if we were only going to fill it with faith. Looking at what Lynn, Sony, Rhia, Ariel and Vince are achieving at Real LIFE, I’m so grateful to God that despite our limitations when we started he honored us by blessing this work and entrusting it to capable stewards.
True to form, Doc Joey had no problems with handing over the foundation. I remember talking to him about his plans to go to Brunei and asking him how he felt about where the foundation was going, and I remember him telling me, “David, Real LIFE has reached levels beyond my wildest dreams. I know this team can take it further than we could have ever taken it.” I was amazed at how he had no ego, no founder’s complex, no entitlements, just a pure heart that knew when to let go.
More and more I’m realizing that just as important as taking something and making it better, is being able to let go and release something or someone into something greater.
Remember to be Childlike
I watch the kids just outside the glass panes playing on a dusty sidewalk. I can’t tell what they’re doing. To me, it seems all they’re doing is playing with dirt, and I remember a time when I used to make mud pies in our backyard and, like these kids, I would be having the time of my life. I didn’t need a buffer of three months worth of living expenses. I didn’t need a title, or a position, or to prove myself. I didn’t need to live up to anyone’s expectations.
I was just playing with mud and I was having a lot of fun.
I’m reminded of something Seth Godin wrote about staying childlike (versus being childish):
“Childlike makes a great scientist.
Childish produces tantrums.
Childlike brings fresh eyes to marketing opportunities.
Childish rarely shows up as promised.
Childlike is fearless and powerful and willing to fail.
Childish is annoying.
Childlike inquires with a pure heart.
Childish is merely ignored.”
As I end my thoughts and my time in McDonalds, I signal to Non to get the car. I’ll have to switch my mind back to work, but let me leave you with this:
Remember to give for it is in giving that we receive. Remember to let go for it is in releasing that others can fly. And remember to be like a child, always curious, always fearless, and always discovering.
For All We Know
“For all we know, this may only be a dream
We come and go like a ripple on a stream
So love me tonight, tomorrow was made for some
Tomorrow may never come for all we know”
- For All We Know
Silent Night
The house is uncharacteristically quiet tonight. It’s completely silent other than the hum of the fridge and the sound of my fingers typing. Come to think of it, it’s been quiet lately. Not counting the occasional noise from cats making kittens of course. Why does it sound like they’re dying whenever they do? But meowning aside this is probably a preview of upcoming chapters in our family story. Here’s how one might go:
Future Brothers Bonifacio
Had a conversation with my mom earlier. Here’s how I broker it to her:
Me: Mom…
Mom: Yes? What is it David?
Me: I’m getting married.
Mom: WHAT???
Me: Just kidding! HAHAHAHA!
Mom: Good. I wouldn’t know how to apologize to her parents!
Me: You’re mean.
I don’t know how I would have done it if I really were getting married. She’s already lost two of us to matrimony.
No Such Thing As A Free Lunch
I rode with Joseph and Mrs. Joseph to Sunday lunch. He kept asking her what she thought of his preaching. A few thousand people already told him it was good as he exited the building, and he’s still not convinced. Of course he did well. I thought the word was incredible. She tells him she loved it. He answers her, “Really? Do you really think so?”
I should have taken a cab. Why don’t they equip cars with barf bags? I turn to Joe Jr. and tell him to cover his ears.
My phone rings, it’s Joshua.
Josh: Where are you going for lunch?
Me: With Joe now. Meeting up with pop and mom.
Josh: Who’s paying?
Me: I think they are.
Josh: Where do we meet you?
Ah… We really are brothers. We all have the same malicious intention – free lunch.
My father used to tell us of how much he dreamed of the day when we would all be independent and how much money he’d save from not having to feed us. Boy, was he wrong. Now he has to feed us, my brothers’ wives, their kids, the yayas, and whichever female can stand me at the moment. They’re lucky today as I’ve managed to offend everyone I would consider taking to family lunch this week. That’s one less mouth to feed, and at least I don’t have to drive anyone home.
We ended up having lunch in some hole-in-the-wall Persian restaurant we have frequented for years. It used to be cheap I think. Well it’s free for me, as it has always been. We ordered the usual, baba ganouj, shirazi salad, salty lasi, chicken and lamb kebabs, and buttered biryani rice. Josh and Mrs. Josh joined us but ordered Tamago, Ikura, Miso soup and 6 pieces of Tempura from the Japanese restaurant next door.
A Little Pressure Never Hurt Anyone
Over lunch my pop asked me:
Pop: David. When are you going to give up your evil ways and give me a grandkid?
Mom: Joey! He has to get married first!
Pop: Of course he has to get married first!
Mom: He’s not ready yet.
Pop: He’s not?
Me: I’m not?
Josh: I think David would like the married life.
Joe: If what you mean by being married is having a harem and slaves.
Me: Hey! That’s unfair!
The Little Gremlins
I looked over at Joe Jr. and Josh Jr. They really are their fathers’ sons. The nerdy looking Joe Jr. with his thick glasses is reading upside down doing a handstand, while the big bald headed Josh Jr. is trying to shoot rolled-up tissue paper into Joe Jr.’s shorts. I’m glad to be their cool uncle. There’ll be another one soon. Mrs. Joseph is expecting a little girl next month. I hope she looks like her mother because Joe would make an ugly girl. I would too. Josh looks like my mom so he’s the only one who could be a girl.
In the Meantime
The sound of cats going at it again brings me back to the present. At the rate they’re going, they’ll catch up with our politicians.
Maybe not.
Hard to predict what the future will look like. Who can really say? Too many changes and so many options, anything can happen. But tonight, surrounded by the objects representing what is most important to me, the family pictures with stories my pop will enthusiastically share, mine and my mother’s paintings, her stacks of art books and Joe’s thick novels, our dining table, Joshua’s basketballs and pet snake, my violin and piano with the silver sculpture of David and Goliath on top, the lampshade that had to be replaced because Joe broke it, the stained and scratched patio table, and others, I’m reminded to cherish each moment, and more importantly, to value the people who make the moments come alive.
The Children Showed Me How
Maybe it’s because I like to read JM Barry’s Peter Pan over and over. Or maybe it’s because I enjoyed being a kid so much. Maybe it’s because I grew up too fast. Or maybe it’s because I haven’t grown up at all. Whatever the reason, I love kids.
Saturday Mornings
I usually begin my Saturday mornings with kids climbing all over me at the Real LIFE feeding program in Pasig. Doc, Lynn, Sony, Rhia, Ariel, and the rest of the Real LIFE team have organized a wonderful weekly event that not only brings joy to a little more than 150 kids but also blesses the volunteers who give their precious Saturday mornings to share their lives. Rica Tongco, a regular volunteer, was telling me about how touched she was when some of the kids went up to her to say that their families were being relocated from the disaster risk areas they had been squatting on. (Interestingly, some have moved to Habitat for Humanity communities that are developed by another incredible group I have the privilege of being a part of.) The kids wanted to say goodbye and they wanted to show their appreciation to her with small gifts. She showed me a small plastic frame they had given her, and I knew she would never value another frame so much, not even a Napoleon. (That’s a nice kind of frame by the way.)
I never leave empty handed either. Aside from a full-body workout and that feeling of fulfillment that comes with making a positive contribution to someone’s life, I get my ego massaged by comparisons to some Korean telenovela star. On second thought, I’ve never actually seen the show. That could be a bad thing.
I used to question the impact of these programs, particularly the ones that appear to be isolated acts of kindness. Then I had a thought, while running the 21k Condura race a few months ago, I was so grateful for the volunteers who handed out water and cold sponges because when you’ve been running a long time, you’re out of water, and the sun’s burning, that little cup goes a long way. Sometimes it’s just enough to get you to the next cup of water, but then you get there, you drink, and that gets you to the next cup, and the next, and before you know it you’ve finished the race. And that’s what kindness is. It’s one cup to get you to the next point. It’s one more encouragement to hold on. It’s an act of service that reminds others they’re significant. And your kindness adds to my kindness, and adds to his kindness, and her kindness, and to a stranger’s kindness, before we know it, and we may never know it, we’ve all helped someone run their race. It’s not an original idea. But we all have to be reminded.
Sunday Afternoon
Two Sundays ago, I took Nathan, Janina, and Ryan Punzalan to see Ice Age. Let me correct myself, Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs. I’ve learned that we adults have to get these titles and title extensions right or it’s not the same thing. Like this one conversation I had with my cousin Carlos:
Me: You guys want to watch Spiderman at my house?
Carlos: Spiderman 1 or Spiderman 2?
Me: I don’t know. Spiderman.
Carlos: But Spiderman 1 or Spiderman 2?
Me: It’s the same thing. It’s Spiderman.
Carlos: No it’s not. One is Green Goblin and the other Doc Oc.
Me: OK. No more Spiderman. We’re going to the mall.
Carlos: Do you think they have Spiderman?
Me: I’m pretty sure.
Carlos: Spiderman 1 or Spiderman 2?
So anyway, after the movie with the Punzalans, I asked them if they enjoyed it, and Janina, our only girl for the afternoon, said, “You just slept! I was staring at you for a long time trying to see if you would wake up but you just slept!” And Ryan added, “Yeah. You were sleeping. How can you sleep in a movie?” I told them that cinemas are some of the best places to sleep in. It’s dark, it’s cool, if people are polite its quiet, and if the seats recline it’s perfect. I then realized that I’ve slept through the last few movies I’ve seen. Ice Age 3, Transformers 2, Wolverine, name it, I’ve slept through it.
Then I realized another thing.
I used to like watching movies – even dumb ones. Now, I can’t even stay up – not even for good ones. That’s sad I think.
Early Monday Morning
In 1989, I was 5 years old. I remember being in the states, going to Disney, buying toys bigger than me, and eating a lot of turkey leg. I couldn’t afford anything I was doing. I couldn’t get anywhere on my own. I didn’t know the plan. I actually got lost a few times, once for over an hour. I was completely dependent on my parents, but if I had to pick a year for when I was most secure, I would choose 1989.
Fast forward to today. I know more than when I was five. I have more. I can do more. I have savings (if you can call my tennis can of coins savings). I have more positions, more accomplishments, a greater network, but also, I find, a greater level of anxiousness and worry. And while I hate dependence, as Count Almasy puts it “being owned”, I’ve realized that my in-dependence has brought in-security.
But earlier this Monday morning, while in prayer, I remembered the kids at the feeding, the Punzalans, my cousins, and my own childhood, and how they, we I mean, were so secure in our reliance on the adults. I had a thought: complete security is found in complete dependence in someone much greater.
Sometimes I forget to depend on God, and I go at things on my own. But this time I’ll remind myself to let go, to trust, to hope, to rely, to depend, and to let the children show me how.
So Ferguson Said Goodbye
So Ferguson said goodbye. He said goodbye to me. It wasn’t that he hated me. He just felt he had to go. He was, after all, just a fish. And not even a real one, just the wet brushstrokes of a man, brought to life by the naming of a child. Ryan, the child’s name, asked me, “Why is his name Ferguson?” I told him I didn’t know, that he was the one who gave him that name. He laughed, happy that Ferguson was alive.
She was there that night. Invited by the mother who invited me.
But she’s gone now.
And Ferguson with her.
