FR. FRANCIS ONGKINGCO
The thermostat of the air-conditioning unit of the SUV was at MAAAX!!!
I felt like a defeathered chicken in Antarctica. Ed, however, was a sweating polar bear inside a microwave.
“Dapitan!!!?” I asked.
“Yes, Fathu,” his stubby fingers swiped his face like windshield wipers.
“What for?” I asked,
“It’s for my daughter.”
“A Belen?”
“Ye, know. Those figures of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the Kings and….”
“Ed, I know what it is, but why go to Dapitan for that?”
“‘Coz, they say it’s very cheap there,” he wiped his face.
“Is she the only one who is supposed to bring a Belen?” I asked.
“Yup! And I’m proud of her because she correctly answered her teacher,” he said with a brimming smile.
“What was the question?”
“They were asked what was the most important Christmas décor.”
“And she has to buy a Belen for answering correctly?”
“Father, I don’t understand teachers nowadays. But I’m still proud of her.”
“How so?”
“Well, she also corrected the teacher,” he chuckled.
“Really? What did she say?”
“Her classmates gave answers like Christmas Tree, Santa Clause, reindeers, snowman and more. But Abigail said, ‘It’s the manger where Jesus, Mary and Joseph are.’ Before the teacher could praise her, she added, ‘But teacher, it’s not a Christmas décor, but holy reminder of Jesus who became a baby boy because he loved us.’”
“I wonder who her catechism teacher is,” I nudged Ed’s shoulder.
“I must humbly admit that Natalie has really taught the kids their catechism well.”
We finally found parking space. The place was packed with people, tricycles and other vehicles.
“I think it would be best that I go in and look for Abigail’s Belen, Ed,” I suggested.
“Why, Fathu!!!?”
I couldn’t find the words to tell him. I thought it wasn’t going to be a cheap deal for an elephant to squeeze into that narrow maze of Christmas decors and lights.
“The pavilion’s very narrow and crowded, Ed. I think you should just reserve some seats in that resto and buy us some beers. ‘Sides, if you’re so drenched here, imagine how it is inside.”
Ed shrugged his shoulders, but it seemed to make some sense to him.
“Also,” I added, “the sooner we’re done then we can meet up for merienda with Natalie and the kids.”
“That’s a good idea, Fathu,” he trotted off to the nearby resto.
With him gone, I dove into the hot and humid pavilion teeming with people trying to find some original Christmas décor to outdo the previous year’s designs.
My familiarity with the place helped me to navigate easily to some stalls that I was already familiar with. After thirty minutes or so, I found a very decent Belen. I took a shot and Vibered Ed.”
[BEEP! BEEP!] He replied immediately.
[That’s it, Father! You’re incredible! That’s exactly what I had in mind.]
I came out of the pavilion unscathed. As I gasped for some fresh air, I was surprised to see Ed holding in each hand three bloated bags full of Christmas decors.
“I thought you reserved a seat for us in the resto, Ed?”
“Uh, yeah, but I wanted… Yeh, know…. Tuh also look around, Fathu,” with both hands occupied he had could not dry his face and was like Olaf melting under the sun.
“What!!!? You entered the pavilion, Ed?”
“Well, yeh. Sort of, but just in that entrance,” he pointed to a corner.
“And the bags?”
“I had no choice, Father. I guess, I had to buy them after breaking some things,” he heaved and sighed.
I peeked and saw a Santa Clause with a smashed cap, a reindeer with a broken nose, some elves without hands and feet, and more.
“At least we got Abigail’s Belen!” He said.
“Right! Now let’s go to the resto, Ed. I think I have some super glue in my knapsack.”
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