Kamusmusan: Childhood

My First encounter with an angel

I was seven year old when we moved where I currently live now.

At such age I wasn’t aware of the adjustments that lie with moving. It just felt strange living in a new home and finally having a room of my own.

It is a quite place. But every four in the afternoon, the children in the area gather to play. However I miss my old playmates.

Because my parents are both educators, they are required to stay in school during the day. They gave me duplicate of the keys of the house, I was to keep them l until they find a new baby sitter. I was instructed to stay in school until 4PM or by the time when they pick me up.

But one hot afternoon, I decided to go home by myself. I am seven years old, a time where I thought I knew everything about anything. I thought I was being independent and brave on my own.

They taught me how to unlock the padlocks, it was easy, just thrust the key in the keyhole and turn. See, two basic, elementary steps. However, there was a problem in the second step. I couldn’t turn the key. Countless time I tried, but it still won’t budge. The situation was hopeless. Finally, as the seven-year-old child I was, I squatted in front of our gate and cried. The keys still stuck in the padlock.

A middle-aged man passed by. He is carrying two mattresses wrapped in plastic and tied together, a vendor.  Our eyes met and I hid my wet face in my stubby arms. I heard his footsteps, he was moving towards me.

“Baket iha?” What’s wrong little girl?

I merely stared at him, my little sobs and hiccups choking me. Upon closer inspection, the man looked like most Filipino farmers that I wondered if he is one. A shirt wrapped around his head to protect himself from the sun, he wore dirty clothing and has a dark complexion.

He noticed the padlock and the desperate keys attached to it. I can tell that he realized my failed attempts to unlock it.

He gave it a try. After a matter of seconds the familiar “chink” was heard. The lock opened.

“Yan. Wag kang iiyak.” There. Don’t cry.

His voice was full of concern and is somewhat fatherly, but I still didn’t trust him. He patted my head, which was a pleasant surprise and walked away.

I waited for him to disappear in the distance, until his figure is too tiny that it can no longer be seen. With trembling fingers, I opened the gate and locked myself in the house.

I was just a helpless kid. I had the keys of the house. It was a quite subdivision. I’m not even sure if someone will hear me even if I scream. He had the upper hand. He could snatch the keys and robbed our house. He could have killed me and sold my insides (a famous urban legend in the Philippines). Or at the very least, he could have ignored me and minded his own business.

There are many possibilities, but of all of these he chose to help me.

Maybe God sends angels to help us even in the smallest trials.

Even a seven-year old’s dilemma.

***

A/N: I know my parents were careless for giving me too much responsibility at such a young age. But please don’t bash them. Don’t worry, they made up for it. :)