(my actual conversation w/ my very-kind cousin-in-law)
Occular inspection proceeds..
While To safeguard the million-peso premises, the backside features two local men and one imported WOLF! awww!
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And if you thought Ate Lota’s so-called mansion is all but peaceful, pristine and a perfect haven to distress, then think again ….
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Because the ground floor of the same is just like a mouse trap to a more intriguing 2nd level –
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They were dime a dozen. And hardly I couldn’t identify anyone. Who are they?!, “I asked” Who breeds them? “I wonder”. They say their freaking blood runs on mine. So I should love 'em even the most unlovable among them, (lol). How would I know? I've been out & away and these kiddoes courtesy of my no-to family planning kinsfolk multiply their legacy so fast. Thus, for a balikbayan 2nd-Uncle or a young grand-dad (for some) who just landed to this uncanny part of the house, each would vie for my attention.
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The bigger ones are promising: they gossip good and would run for your change in betting cards. The medium, ah they are more of a gung-ho attitude. They would slide, glide, karate and pillow-fight, (matira matibay!). The smaller ones are the reserved type; just they would howl, hoot, and frown as they stare-at and bodyguard the rest. So Lo, and behold: the immaculate mansion (I thought) was converted into a gambling mecca and a wrestling arena of minors. And because there were no elderly police or arbiters around, I guess you knew that I served one of my purpose well.
And what else, is my other purpose?.. Oh yah, after bantering with the host, the latter started blowing the whistle and w/ delight she scream: “Children, “here comes your Sta Claus”. Gee, how respected and convincing my cousin Lota was!... in the blink of an eye, the great queue was formed in my very front.
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Yes. I had to pay the formation in an amount that hurts [a bit]. For a moment, my hands were tied, - my wallet, battered, my pocket, bruised. I was left w/ nothing but incredible memory. The kiddoes whose heart shines pure were in hues of joy and ectasy. I could just see it in their eyes and in their smile. While I revel in the newfound freedom being the man of the hour. Such a humbling & rewarding experience.
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My cousin Lota’s house is not an Orphanage. But yes, its kinda’ like that. Here is where most of her/our emerging clan [in-need] young & old, usually comes for aid and call this big house theirs. Chaotic maybe, but It will always be a home, a shelter (and a kitchen if may add) to many.
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From it, comes a powerful energy to reach out, to keep and reunite our roots and fruits. And I pride myself to be the one who got the nerve to write and tell the world this -
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Txs for the reunion invite, cuz'... you're all missed :D
pardon this xtra shots -
(and more to come....)
