By Sampaguita ’98

My heart goes to this man who was able to wear his first pair of shoes only late in life. Always barefoot since childhood, his feet turned hard and webbed-like. It is difficult to find a pair of slippers or shoes that fit him.

He is a familiar face in town. He is looked down upon as a sinto-sinto (a village idiot) and a clown. He is toothless and scarred all over, an indelible relic of a harsh childhood. But he is quite sane and harmless. He is alone in his fight against poverty, his surroundings and himself.

In this condition, this man has become the butt of jokes and insults. But he responds to this personal affront and indignity with a subdued smile, that earned him the name Celing Ngiti. That signature certain smile is his unique contribution to people.

His misfortune was being born to a large family of seven children, mostly girls. His father was said to have left the family for the mountains and became member of the Huks only to return sick and dying.

The mother was left alone to provide for the family. Celing did his share at the early age of five. Instead of going to school, he helped some fishermen in Ibaba haul their fishing boats (nagsusuba) for a share in the catch. Later, he harvested kangkong, banana leaves and hauled garbage for anyone needing his services in exchange for some money.

He spent his youth in constant struggle for survival. Unlike most kids, he never experienced the fun of playing. Instead, he was toiling for the his survival and his family’s.

Fortunate to have been healthy and strong, he seldom gets sick. But his love of work and his patience became his tools of survival. His services became in demand: pushcart delivery, cleaning and hauling out sawdust from shops. Prosperity in our town brought him luck. Even the lowest paid laborers like him was able to take part in the bounty. Come lanzones and santol season, he transported kaings ( baskets)of those famous fruits.

Maturity gave him improved speech. He can now tell the story of his life. His timidity and sluggishness were the result partly of his inferiority complex, developed form the depressed condition of his childhood.

Born under such circumstances, the members of his family survived all these years. They got married and lived fair lives with their own families. But Celing, however, remained the underdog living a life of isang kahig, isang tuka, (hand-to-mouth existence). He remained single and lives with his old mother in a small hut in Ibaba. He made friends usually like himself, who take to the bottle for solace that only worsens their melancholy.

When his mother died, he opted to live alone in the same hut. He did not want to be an added burden to his relatives. Quite improved and mature, now, he gets some support from relatives. Though he is still there with his pushcart, doing the only job he knew how to do. He dreads the thought of dying of hunger.

Heaven knows how many more Celings there are in Paete and elsewhere. Worst of all are those with congenital defects, syndrome and other infirmities. Often abandoned by families, they fend for themselves alone. Yet, surprisingly, in spite of their misfortune, they seem to live contented and happy life. Like the birds in the sky, God feeds them in many different ways.

This story shows that life comes in a variety of dimensions and colors…some smooth and rosy, some rough and dark. But to me, life is what each one makes of it. Like actors in the big stage of life, we will be judged by men and God, not on the role we play but on how we play our part.

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