A tale of two Philips

Last month, I wrote two stories for CDN featuring two boys who share the same first name, the same age and the same city of residence.

I met the two Philips in two separate occasions: Philip Bautista (Philip 1), a candle vendor at the vicinity of the National Shrine of Saint Joseph in Mandaue City who’s saving money for his return to school, and Philip Villegas (Philip 2), a cancer warrior who wants to go back to regular school so he can play and participate in activities with other children.

I was covering the Gabii sa Kabilin event at the Mandaue Presidencia on the evening of May 26 when Philip 1, with his box of white candles, approached the table of Phialo Trading Corp. where I was seated at that time.

Phialo displayed books on Cebu’s culture, heritage and history, and one of the books on the shelf was entitled “Haiyan Aftermath: Images and Stories of Recovery in Samar and Leyte” by Lucien Letaba.

It was a commemorative book of the strongest typhoon (known in country as Yolanda) to make a landfall in the Philippines. It is likewise a celebration of resilience as the 242-page book featured photographs and testimonials from different people who survived the disaster and who helped in the recovery phase.

Philip 1 saw the book and asked if he could take a look at the pages. The boy was obviously street smart. He knows the names of the government officials in the photo. Turns out, he was originally from Tacloban. “Barangay 59-A,” he said.

His father and four sisters survived the typhoon. Her mother perished from the disaster, and up to this day, they haven’t found her body.

Philip 1 spoke to me in Waray. He stopped school for three years to help his father take care of his two younger sisters, while his two older sisters looked for jobs.

Because he is a persistent boy who kept on bugging his father when he can go back to school, Philip 1 and his sister Nicole were sent to his grandparents who live in Barangay Tabogon, Mandaue.

Philip 1 was so excited to go to school that he was already counting that night’s earnings, which will be used to buy school supplies.

The following day, May 27, I met Philip 2 with his mother Connie and younger brother Jesu.

Philip 2 joined his peers from the Cancer Warriors Foundation who were participants of the Creative Summer Workshop organized by CDN and J Centre Mall.

I was there to facilitate the Story Hours session, which covered storytelling and story writing session, for the literacy development advocacy group Basadours.

Philip 2 happened to be in my group. We had an “I Wish” activity where they were told to write about anything they want to wish for.

While others wrote that they wanted to be cured of their illness, Philip wrote that he wanted puppies.

Why?

Because they grow into dogs and dogs are loyal and protect man.

I asked him if he knew about his disease, acute lymphoblastic leukemia, and the boy gave me this wide grin.

“I know all about it… since I was eight (years old). I go to chemo sessions and my hair falls. But I’m not ashamed. I want to go back to regular school so I can be with other children,” he said.

He was calm and composed for a 12-year-old boy. He is raised by a single mother who runs a sari-sari store in Barangay Canduman, Mandaue City.

The mother told me his best friend just died. Most of his “batchmates,” children who were diagnosed with the disease at the same time they learned of Philip’s condition, have already passed away.

But Philip 2 said he is not afraid to die, for his life is just borrowed from the Creator.

As I struggled to get away from the foot traffic brought about by the opening of classes last June 5, I remembered the two Philips I met in this job that I do — barging into people’s lives, asking questions and expecting answers.

While other children worry about whether or not they are going to get a new pair of shoes this school year, the two Philips are facing battles that no ordinary 12-year-old should be experiencing.

They are still kids after all.

Half of the job of a journalist is to write stories. The other half happens before the stories are written — and that is to find compelling, inspiring narratives of people who are resilient and persevering in the battles that they face.

I did not look for these Philips.

Call it journalist’s luck, divine intervention or destiny — they found me.

People like the Philips are the reasons why I continue to write. I just know that in the noisy world filled with killings, bombings and greed, more Philip stories are out there waiting to be told.