Stories and shoes

We entered the cancer ward with a big book, a few sheets of paper and a collective energy that can move mountains.

I was both excited and nervous. I have read and shared stories for more than half of my life and yet, performing in front of children still gives me the jitters.

Ador Hurtado, the tourism officer from the City of Catbalogan in Samar, carried the book.

Theresa Banta, an engineer but looks more like a princess, was waiting for me to speak up. Jenn Krystel Zaraspe, a lawyer who loves Starbucks with all her heart, motioned for me to take center stage.

I counted a pair of 17 eyes staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

When I finally mustered the courage to speak up, I asked for their names.
Gab, JP, Bambam, Desiree.

These are children between the ages of 5 and 12; sick with illnesses which inflict pain so hurtful that their mothers could only ask God why this happened to their young ones.

The room smelled of medicines and antiseptic.

I could also smell pain and sadness.

It was difficult not to get emotional.

But I was not about to cry. I did not want them to feel sad. My friends and I’s mission that day was to bring happiness and hope to weary hearts.

Susan Dela Rosa Aragon’s “Nang Magkakulay ang Nayon” (When Color Came to Town) was the perfect book for the occasion.

I alternated between reading and dancing and in an instant, the room was full of laughter and hope. We shared loot bags of coloring books and crayons and made origami dog faces afterwards.

One mother said, “May ganito sana palagi bago ang chemo.” It was her telling us to come back next time so the children have a happy disposition before they undergo another round of chemotherapy.

July 6 was one of the happiest days of my life. I heard Bambam’s giggles and saw Gab’s smile.

The twinkle in JP’s eyes as he colored the origami dog and the joy in Desiree’s voice when she said, “Thank you.”

It was also one of the saddest days of my existence.

I stared at the hospital beds wondering why fragile little children had to go through such intense pain.

None of these people deserve this.

I do not know what else I could have done aside from reading stories and acting and dancing like a total goof in front of them.

That day was intended to be part of an action plan for a Japan exposure trip that we were part of last May 2017. Earlier that day, we taught origami to family members of patients and read stories in two other rooms filled with children.

I went out of the room thinking: we do not really need to do all those. I did not have to leave Cebu, fly to Manila and then board a bus to Batangas to read stories and make origami.

Truth be told, how many individuals, who were part of exchange and cultural immersion programs such as the Japan East Asia Network of Exchange for Students and Youths (JENESYS), actually spend time and money to leave home and be in places that they know nothing about?

But I like to believe we are placed in certain circumstances by Heavenly Father (or a Higher, Stronger Force if you choose to believe so) so we can serve to the best of our abilities.

That day, I was in a daze and woke up in Batangas Medical Center with sore feet from hours of wearing heeled Mary Jane shoes.

It felt good.