The Scavengers

Ever since I was diagnosed with a possible heart enlargement, I have exerted more effort to do physical exercises. I go jogging week days and mountain biking every Sunday.

But this Sunday was a special Sunday to me. I was on my way to the mountains of Busay in Cebu hoping to strengthen my heart by the exercise, instead, I personally encountered a heart-breaking scene that changed me.

I have already passed the Marco Polo Plaza hotel when I decided to stop to buy bananas at a small canteen located along the road. I haven't taken any solid food that morning so I needed fruits to have the needed energy to get to my destination - the mountain top.

I was almost done eating with the second banana when I noticed two children across the street busily searching the garbage area. "Scavengers," I said to myself and quickly turned my attention away from them to sip a small amount of water. I cared less for this kind of kids. Actually, to make it straight, I do not like them, and I do not trust them even more.

You see, several times I have been a victim of kinds pretending to be scavengers looking for empty bottles and cans when in fact they were eyeing household items.

I remember one afternoon while I was watching a Mike Tyson fight when I noticed that the TV screen suddenly became blurred. I checked outside and saw two young scavengers running away with my newly installed antenna.

Hatred may be a little bit stronger word to describe my feeling towards them, but I do not like them honestly not till I met these three children.

I was about to embark on my bike again when I heard one of the two children, a girl of about 7 or 8 of age saying aloud to the other, a 12-yr old boy, "Get Dodong. He is looking at the diners. It is embarrassing.” Only then did I notice a small boy standing near me slightly nipping at his finger. He's a few inches shorter than my five year old son. I later found out he was also five years old.

Though he did not ask for food to anyone in the canteen, the way he looked at the diners was enough to convince me that he intensely craving for it.

The older boy quickly crossed the street and gently pulled the little one who politely obeyed. As I watched the two crossing back the street to the garbage area, I heard the canteen owner say, “I really pity those kids. Too bad they are actually good kids.”

I learned from her that the children are actually from a good family. Both parents used to work but the father suffered a stroke three years ago and became paralyzed. Their mother died of a heart attack while their father was still confined in the hospital. The parents were in their early forties when the catastrophes happened. Since then the kids became scavengers to meet their daily needs as well as for their father’s medication.

Deeply moved by what I heard, I went to a nearby bakery and bought 20 pesos worth of bread and gave it to the children who initially refused including the little boy. The young girl said, “It is okay. Thank you. We will just buy food later when we can sell (the trash).”

I explained to her that they needed to go home because it was starting to rain. "We are used to it,” the girl answered again.

So I explained to her the rain can make them sick and if they'll become sick there's no one to take care of their father. Upon mentioning their father, they nodded and accept the bread but I noticed that the older boy did not eat.

When I asked him if he does not like the kind of bread I bought for them he smiled but as he was about to explain, the little girl, who seems to be the talker among them, interrupted, "It is Sunday today. Every Saturday and Sunday he gets to eat in only in the afternoon. The rest of us get to eat in the morning but we don’t get to eat in the afternoon. He is the only one who gets to eat in the afternoon. During Mondays to Fridays, my brother has school so he is the only who gets to eat in the morning. The rest of us only get to eat if we are able to sell a lot.”

I countered, “Why don’t you just split the food equally so everyone gets to eat?”

The young girl reasoned out that their father wants her older brother to go to school with a full stomach so he can easily catch up with the teacher's lessons. "When my brother starts work, we will stop being scavengers. He is a first honor student, “ the little boy added proudly.

Perhaps I was caught by surprise or I am just overly emotional but my tears started to fall. I then quickly turned my back from them to hide my tears and pretended to pick up my bike from the canteen where I had left it.

I don't know how many seconds or minutes I spent just to compose myself, pretending again this time that I was mending by bike.

Finally I got on to my bike and approached the three children to bid goodbye to them who in turn cast their grateful smiles at me. I then took a good look at all of them especially at the small boy and patted his head with a pinch in my heart. Though I believe their positive look at life can eventually change their present situation, there is one thing that they can never change and that is their being motherless.

That little boy can no longer taste the sweet embrace, care, and most of all, the love of his mother forever. Nobody can refill the empty gap created by that sudden and untimely death of their mother. Every big event that will happen in their lives will only remind them and make them wish of their mother's presence.

I reached in my pocket for my last P100 and handed it to them. I was reserving it for our department's bowling tournament. This time they refused strongly but I jokingly said to the girl, "I am gonna hit you if you don’t accept this.”

She smiled as she extended her hand to take the money. “Thank you, we can now buy medicine for our father,” she uttered. I then turned to the small boy and though he was a few feet away from me, I noticed that while his right hand was holding the half - filled sack , his left hand was holding a toy, a worn out toy car. I waved my hands and said bye to him as I drove towards the mountains again. Did he just found the toy in the garbage area or was the toy originally his - before misfortune struck them. I did not bother to ask.

But one thing was crystal clear to me, that in spite of the boy's sad experience, he has not given up his childhood completely. I can sense it in the way he held and stared at his toy.

My meeting with the young scavengers made me poorer by 100 pesos. But they changed me and made me richer as far as lessons of life were concerned.

In them, I learned that life can change suddenly and may catch me flat footed. In them, I've learned that even the darkest side of life cannot change the beauty of one's heart. Those three children, who cannot eat three times a day, are still able to hold on to what they believe is right. What a contrast they were to most of us who are quick to point out our misfortunes when caught with our mistakes. In them, I've learned to hope for things when things seem to go the other way.

Lastly, I know that God cares for them far more than I do, that though He allowed them to experience such a terrible life which our finite minds cannot comprehend, His unquestionable love will surely follow them through.

And in God's own time they will win.